Different Age Poems | Examples
These Different Age poems are examples of Age poems about Different. These are the best examples of Age Different poems written by international poets.
The Upper Wealthy
It was said that famous families
only lasts for about three generations
The Churchills, the Kennedys, and many
Others have a sale by date.
I thought of that while watching a program by
Crise Hedges, who happens to have grown up
among the stratospheric wealthy, and he
spent time trying to distance himself from
that class of people
He can't, everything about his language
manner, the smoothness of those who have
not had to strive
Cris was interviewing a man who writes
books about the rich, who, according to
him are bad for our society and economy
Clearly, the rich are different from those who have
No private plane when going shopping
They send children to the top school in a limo
They have a big household staff to keep
them in clover, and security, to be rich also
Mean someone is out to do your harm
The two men began annoying me, telling
stories about the wealthy, sounding like
a couple trying not to sound envious
elderly and Helen Mirren
It is hard work to be old; many people prey on us, the elderly
My wife is better at telling people to fob off than I am
When people tell me a sob story, I tend to believe
What they, why else will they tell
My wife and I are very different; she likes to speak to
people in a cafe or a waiting room at the doctor's, yes, we
Do see many doctors, with age comes the infirmary
I sit there and try not to look at the clock
She comes from an upper-class family without money
I am from a modest background with a tendency not to spend
money, but safe for a day, it might rain, and we will be
caught in the downpour without an umbrella
Yes, in public, we hold hands, we get the condescending
glances, oh, how sweet they are
I feel annoyed like Helen Mirren, wishing that people would
off and leave us in peace
Bloodlines
Family lineages relatives we call Elders, Uncles, Aunts,
Cousins, Brothers, Sisters. Bloodlines
Inherited unspoken patterns of generational dysfunction.
Did you Inherited any anxieties, gossiping, vexation?
Judgements creating cycles that's hard to escape from.
Transcends from kin to kin, a proportion of ancestors
that are undisclosed prior to the present time.
Moreover the bloodlines inheritance lives within me.
I am the First born combined of two different family members.
Comparable to roots of the branches from a tree when
I fall, I'm never down for long.
I originated from strong men and women from eras of
bloodlines cycles.
Growing up to fast,
Coming of age.
Both about maturity but different
One witnessed something they were not supposed to see, while the other saw when ready
One forced to be a man, the other gradually becoming a man
One having a parent who would mentally abuse, while the other has two amazing parents
One having to work hard just to get a tiny bit of affection or recognition, while the other does not need to try
Growing up to quickly and Coming of age both involve maturity and growing up but are they really the same?
You start to look through another pair of glasses
If you lacked any experience, life has offered you classes
You learn from your past failures and successes
You've become wiser while your heart has grown restless
What entertained you before, now irritates you somehow
Things that made you laugh, you shake your head at now
You now see the pitiful state of each generation
You're no longer too busy to enjoy God's creation
The questions you asked in the past are now asked of you
Youngsters are now coming to you asking what to do
Different ones are coming to you for loving advice
Helping them not make the same mistakes twice
As you get older it seem to benefit you and others
When it comes to experience its like you play the mother
Men's minds are devious at the best of times
Always twisting their stories
I should know, I'm one of dem der guys
Pretty sure I'm no different than 98% of my fellow males
It's inbred into our psyche and of this I'm sure
We're really damn proud of it
However I'm a straight shooter
At the expense of my fellow males I apologize
Hate blowing the whistle on you guys
But I can't help it... as George Washington once said
“I cannot tell a lie
Everything and I mean EVERYTHING
That comes out of my mouth
Is the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth
So help... Z-Z-Z-A-A-A-A-A-P-!”
Georgie
light through window as I awaken
my shoulder aches but I raise my arm
branches in full bloom reach for the sky
everything looks the same
but my heart knows something’s different
my ears ring but lines run through my head
before opening the laptop and writing a poem
morning stillness but the roommate’s cat comes to me
it’s comfort I seek after loosing the one I loved
one year ago but scenes play as if yesterday
the morning a litany of my many lives
it opens its arms to embrace me
I feel a sense of warmth when letting thoughts wander
I play the same old ballad but the meaning’s changed
The lonely heart
This loneliness is eating me up
we are miserable in different rooms
words have been spoken over and over again
what more is there to say
other than platitudes
When sex died, our love died too
The only thing we have in common
is the fear of being alone
At night, I sneak into her bedroom
to see if she is still breathing
when I'm half awake
I know she is checking up on me
We need each other as never before
can one say this is a kind of love
I’ve barely started to walk, feet ache
still figuring out how to make a poem.
Some lines come easy while some stuck
but I keep running round the clock.
Each day might pull me a different way
some soft with hope and some hard to say.
But if I show up with a heart in hand
I’ll find my voice and learn to stand.
Each step I take a day
Leads me home, a place I'd like to be
Hurdles may come I know, never will I sway
For I know each step adds to the true me.
Yes, indeed we have a new Pope.
I wonder, however, if we have a new hope.
As a matter of facts, we have two popes:
One is active and the other is passive,
Which means that one is inactive,
The latter was a hell of a man who shocked: folks,
Foes, rivals, parishioners and cardinals,
By resigning his post,
By becoming a different host.
He is still a holy man, in accordance to the latest polls,
A courageous priest, who reminds us,
That man is immortal and fallible.
Pope Benedict is enjoying his golden hiatus,
His retirement in a humanely divine castle.
I don't know much about the new one.
I can only hope that he is someone,
Who's at least similar or equal,
To the former, who was wise and simple.
May God bless his soul,
‘Cause he was able to realize
That he was becoming unable
To lead effectively, and to prioritize.
As a matter of facts, habemus duo popes,
Yes, indeed, habemus duo pontifices.
Hebert Logerie Sunday, March 17, 2013
Grandma’s ghost has taken up
knitting rattlesnakes in the drapes.
They hiss when someone lies.
Now, my mother only speaks
in noodle metaphors.
I ask her how she is, and she replies,
al dente, then goes back
to stirring the aquarium water
she'll later take a bath in.
My sister gives birth
to a daughter who levitates
during thunderstorms.
She answers to the name Unclaimed Bag.
In other words, we all gather once a year
to shed what’s left of politeness,
to laminate new rules:
No bleeding at the table.
Far less mirrors in the fruit salad.
All grudges must be gift-wrapped,
left at the door with the shoes,
with the husbands.
And when it’s over,
we nod like diplomats,
swap our favorite spells,
(that is to say recipes), pretend
we don't notice the fresh claw marks
on the floor.
It ends when we remember
our names again, who we are.
Then we leave—
each of us, in a different skin.
At different ages
Happiness has different taste
Be happy
In your own way
In your own place
Definitely be contented
Unselfishly.
REFLECTIONS AND VISIONS
I had laughter and occasional tears
As memories bubble up, unbidden
And thinking back to my early years
Times were quite different back then
The basics were dominant in my life
And luxuries were rare, as I recall
Yet, ambition was lurking deep within
That drove me to learn and apply
A pathway to achievement, I’d say
Albeit in a direction hardly chosen
But stumbling toward a realisation
That what is given should be used
Initially, perhaps to help mankind
But soon a dream was surrendered
To embrace the technological world
Where travel and experience grew
In a slick and less protected sphere
I survived, but with scars, I know
Until the magnetic call of industry
Clutched at me, suited and ready
Finance showed its alternate face
A career portfolio was established
Returning to health and social focus
Oh, but what was I really thinking
That politics would shrink away
Leaving me again, disappointed
But also fatigued, even with life
Retirement then peeked at me
A workplace ridden with lost hope
And seemingly in a flash, it ended
These days, I am saddened to say
It is tears and occasional laughter
My best
I designated places and detailed the plans for where my heart and soul would retire and I would b at my best.
I would be the rock for my family and friends and whisper to them often that this is not when your life ends and give them love...
…
Unfortunately. ..
I was deceived by the meaning of love…I thought if you loved them that they would love you back.
I thought everyone had a soul that would shine and b the guiding light for those in need
But I’ve learned different here in the last days of my life…
in the end, Most family and friends do not feel your love or give it in return and souls are absent and one’s path is dim.
So, this is where my soul retires and I don’t think I’m at my best.
Karen powell
The sledding hill was crowded
And I thought, as I walked by,
How expressions can mean different things,
Which age can magnify.
For when someone says of sledders,
“They are going downhill fast,”
That same statement, for a senior,
Does a darker shadow cast.
And the same applies to “tubing,”
Which my grandkids just enjoyed –
Quite a contrast to the post-op tubes
Which have got my spouse annoyed.