Aging Poems | Examples

List of Member Poems

I Once Was

I Once Was….

I once was young
Fresh out of school
The future lay at my feet
And everything was cool.

My face was void of wrinkles 
My body flexible and strong
There was nothing I couldn't do
And my dreams inspired my song.

I never thought of aging
Of growing old
Forced to give up activities 
Because my limits were sold.

I looked at older people
And felt a sense of relief
I had years to enjoy my life  
Was my misconceptive belief.

Day after day
Year after year
I took life for granted
And lived without fear.

One day I woke up
And I looked in the mirror
I saw time had dwindled down
And my age was suddenly clear.

I was no longer young
With years stretched before 
me
My body stiff like the tin man 
My bladder the size of a pea.

My memory has faltered
Simple things playing hide and seek
And I faced the fact
That time had sprung a  leak.

I once was young
And ready to take on the world
But time somehow got away from me
Like a newspaper age curled.

Premium Member Aging

Working with older individuals is an interesting mix
of being told it looks like you are running around with
no pants on because your khakis are light colored
to being told "I'm just wasting away" in answer
to "How are you doing today?"  It is my privelege to
respond to all situations with as much grace as I can muster

August 21, 10:35

It was 10:35, August 21
I woke up, and through the window
The rain gone, there's only the sun
I love the rain, I've been loving sorrow, 
Perhaps, I'm done for things undone, 
And there's nothing really to do
But face my own new year through. 

The street was long, endless really
My sweat drew maps on my shirt
The street was long, leading nowhere simply, 
All in all, below the asphalt is earth
Despite the wails of motorcycles and cars
Sooner now, I'll be back to the stars. 

For now the flowers still smile a smile, 
But the food have become tasteless
All that remains of what Time defiled
Sooner too, they'll wilt, in baselessness
Continuing anyway for one more mile
As there's nothing to do, more or less. 

The sea wind welcomes me
Like a woman's hand on my hair. 
Years drift to the limited continuity
I laughed because I could not despair. 
With a pudding in my hand, no sorry
For the sunset falling over me. 


Aug. 21, 2026


Premium Member Winter of Love

¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ winters shall besiege thy brow,
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ beauty's ¦¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ so gazed on now,
¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ treasure of thy lusty days,
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦
This were to be new made when thou art old,
And see thy blood warm when thou feel'st it cold.


(Blackout of Sonnet II: When Forty Winters Shall Besiege Thy Brow by William Shakespeare)

The anti-aging bead

It was like a rainbow, this bead so fine that strung up so many lifelessly like puppets pronged. The carry-over appears, like ageism defeated but again it rears and spills the beans over another adventure, so silly that goose like hemlock endeavors, so wily this bead so effervescent that dowry hidden in the stores are much too much of a bounty.

Hey God, It's Me Again

Hey God, it’s me, Margaret.
I know it’s been a minute
since our last conversation,
but I’m back to ask for a little help.

I’ve got bigger problems now.
(I know—I’m surprised too.)

Perimenopause has reared her ugly head,
and honestly, I can say—
puberty was child’s play.


Premium Member Spain wins, Madonna loses

Spain won the world cup yesterday, one to nil - but it was never close. Spain spent 70% of the game in Argentina’s backfield - pressuring. 

Spain had nine respectable shots at a goal - scored one with another called back. Argentina had one shot that almost went in. I know losing when I see it - Argentina winning would have been a fluke.

Speaking of losing - Madonna at halftime.
A critic wrote that, "Madonna has come to represent America’s fear of aging." 
Yeah, aging has never looked less appealing. 
I may take up smoking.

I know, she recently had a single hit #1 on the Billboard charts. 
Back when the Beatles were cranking out 24 #ones in a row, you had to sell a million records a week to crack the top ten, and 1.3 to 1.5 million a week to stand a chance at a #1. Today (with streaming) you can get a #1 with a 7th of that number.
I love early Madonna - but I know creepy when I see it.

Who’s older, Madonna or Trump? 
Whatever, both are too old for their jobs.
.
.
A song for this:
Vogue by Madonna
Cruel and Pretty by Over the Rhine

Faded Youth

You used to smile a lot
When we were both young
Enough to play and run, 
In the flowering fields.

Golden rays, golden hair
Golden cord, golden rings.
They are now all the same
In my memory.
The only thing not faded 
Is the smile on your face.

We should have counted then
Those few blessings shared,
Lest we forget them
In the passing of years.

Our memories washed
Away as the rains
Came to clean
Away the dew
Covering us when we awoke
Laying in the grass of that meadow.



Faded Youth was originally published in Impspired Magazine, 2026 all rights reserved.

Premium Member Aging Out

I don't want to lose my memory
that's where all my friends are

Premium Member Ode to a Seasoned Frame

O map of skin where rivers deeply run,
Thou art the ledger of the years I've known;
The weary eyes that softened with the sun,
And silver crown that time has slowly sown.

I sing of joints that stiffen in the cold,
Of 'measured treads' along the dusty way,
For in this frame, though 'immeasurably old',
A 'steady flame' still burns against the gray.

Speak not of mere decay or entropy,
Quiet strength that rises through every storm,
A 'vibrant vessel' filled with artistry;
Resilience found in every 'weathered form.

Here's to feeling old, a bloom fading away,
Praising 'slowed hands' that hold each memory,
Yet leaves a tender trace of every day;
And a 'soul grown bolder' through its history.

For beauty lives beyond the face, we see,
In the 'unadulterated wisdom' of just being me.

Premium Member TILT

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
hip dips
left, uneven~
gravity pulls hard now.

each step swaying pendulum’s grief.
hold me.

Premium Member Aging Faster

Aging Faster 
Scares fading 
Old age visible 
Still sharp minded 
But somehow aging faster 
Unhealthy foods 
Self indulge 
Over weight  a bit 
Couch truly inviting 
Slower to ascend 
Aches and Pains are my two best friends 
Coffee 24/7 
Time flying, can’t fathom 
Where does all the time go? 
Take it easy 
Stillness in harmony 
Take in the moment 
Breathe in crisp morning air 
Alleviate troubled burdens 
One day at a time 
Thankful for each day 
Growing old gracefully 
One day, I will be lifted into the clouds 
And leave all of my poetry behind 
I’m just an old soul 
On September the 18th, all turn 50 years old

Premium Member Aging is not kind

Age does not care 
softness of eyes now wrinkles 
my face changing

Night time Battle

Night time Battle

Side by side we run the tests! 
To find which path to sleep is best!
Sleep is more elusive now.
That we don't get up to milk the cow!

Is eight a bedtime just for me?
While he sits up to watch TV?
Does his back do better on the floor?
Do earplugs help him when I snore?

We want to get up strong and tough!
But stay asleep just long enough! 
To make it to our kitchen chair
And maybe find some breakfast there.

No infant wakes us in the night,
No burglers or a dog that bites.
But as the moon through darkness glides!
We find that sleep from old folks hides!

Premium Member Scars

(“Lone Pine”, 2024, original pen and ink)

Every step of the way
And every misstep
Leaves a little something
In its wake
Until all that’s left
Of all we have done
And all those we have known
And loved
Are the scars we carry inside
And out.

(2/17/26)

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