Best Ageism Poems

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...

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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...

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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...

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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...

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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...

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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...

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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...

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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...

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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...

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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...

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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...

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