Ageism Poems - Poems about Ageism

Age is just a number they say, But when it come to relationships, They take that back, When it comes to applications for work, They take that back, When it comes to a sound mind , They take that back, When they don't value experience, They take that back, When they think retirement homes , They take that back, When they think good health, They take that...

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Once you were lush Form sweet and ripe Skin satin, elastic All poreless and tight Now bones are weak Cracked, brittle and thin Womb used and dry No more collegan Dismissed and discarded As if aging a sin Punished for wrinkles That show where you've been Old coins yield no currency They're weathered and bare You're transparent, invisible Like you're not even there But I know...

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Treated so cold Sought job, told no Too old, she's deemed Date written: 01/25/2021...

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The heart of the matter, is age. More specifically, my age. I'm too old to assign blame, there's no longer any point. The 'me' there is will have to stay, growing older, devouring energy, till the myth of the Mass is complete, and the first law takes me home. I have age induced cynicism, It's fatal to dreams....

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The invitations are already out for our local community dialogue without need to shout or pout about another straight white male monologue. In fact, as fiction, we have taken a nearly unprecedented step of inviting straight white males over the maturing age of thirty to show up in droves to listen, and not to speak. Yes, you have heard this invitation clearly discriminating not against Business As Usual but...

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Red squirrels, fluffy tails, clamoring up a tree. Chattering with their cousins, in a group of sixty-three. Gray squirrels, brown glittering eyes, to almost black. Staying to themselves, in four hollow tree stumps in the back. Making fun, laughing at, poking fun at each other. Just because they are a different color? One albino squirrel, seen easily at night. Hiding her peach...

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A baby was born with carotene skin and left on a Senator’s doorstep in Washington. This neonate’s pigment was reddish orange, bright too, unusually garish. How will we label it? The lawmakers fretted when the Senator took it to the Capitol Building to try and find it a home. It is not black, not white, not caramel, not pink, not yellow. It...

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Absurd situations amuse me; they get written into poems. Foolish generalizations about groups of people infuriate me; they also get written into poems. All Irish, all whites, all English, all red-heads, there is no all. It makes not a whit of sense. But the one thing that has gotten my goat faster than any other thing? “All women...

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Angel? Demon? Faerie? Witch? Random labels None apply. We are all changelings Pure and simple Or complicated and unpure Depending upon the mood, the moment, and our momentous events. Divorce, death, cancer, car wrecks, they all take a toll on us. Changing us completely in one second. Giving us a perspective we never had before. Showing us that our opinions are not the same now. Sometimes switching to the...

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Ageism Summer is always hot in the valley the sea breeze does not reach here. I have a fan blowing shifting the air giving the impression of cooling the air. By all means we are prosperous people we do have an air condition, bought before the price of electricity went through the roof. We tell ourselves that heat...

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a pervasive bareness walks like an honest lie on the road to truth the bone white marble god oversees the planet green’s woes a climate change of heart its manipulations its intrigues something remains unsaid when i look back i think again before i disappear between bread and god whosover is stronger than me ...

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a pervasive bareness walks like an honest lie on the road to truth the bone white marble god oversees the planet green’s woes a climate change of heart its manipulations its intrigues something remains unsaid when i look back i think again before i disappear between bread and god whosover is stronger than me ...

Continue reading...