Best Grey Hairs Poems | Poetry

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How Grey Hairs Are Created by Olson, Richard
Two Grey Hairs Of Wisdom by Kearley, Dan

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The Best Grey Hairs Poems

 
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The Old Man In The Mirror

The Old Man In The Mirror

Who is that old man who looks at me in the morning?
When I shave and shower he is there living in a pane of glass
Grey hairs replacing the dark walnut brown
More and more each day, each hour
Eyes looking tired from ages of struggles
Each reflecting a soul which was once so full of life
Now it lays stagnant and lost
It has the memories of its youth
Doing this that that man can only now remember
Wrinkles took so long to show
Even fooling that old man into thinking he was younger than he is
Every grey hair, every wrinkle has been earned
They are the wages of stress, pain and anxiety of aging
Some called them badges of honor
I look in the mirror and see that old man looking back at me
I don’t see honor, pain, stress or anxiety
That old man looking back at me has lived a full life
Successes and mistakes of the past are reflected in the mirror
Lost loves and loves found are hidden in his spirit
I look at the old man in the mirror 
I look at the grey hair and the sad eyes
I see each and every wrinkle
I look at the old man in the mirror and I see life


Copyright © R. e. taylor | Year Posted 2011

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Old Man

See the old man sitting on the bench
Looking thru the wired fence
He sits there every day
Watching the children come and play
Once he was young and strong
Once with these children he did belong
Now all gnarled  old with years
He watches thru his tears
Oh how they can jump and run
How they play in the hot sun
He just sits on the bench and stares
At his worn out body and white grey hairs
Sitting there day after day
Watching the children come and play
Puts a smile on his old face
Wishing he could be in their place


Copyright © Phyllis Babcock | Year Posted 2006




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Two Grey Hairs Of Wisdom

I have just two grey hairs in my mustache
That keep growing back,under my nose
Why there's just two
I haven't a clue
Soon to be joined by many more,I suppose

They say grey hair grows with wisdom
But with just two hairs under my nose?
No matter what I do
They keep growing through
The beginning of wisdom for me,I suppose

Two grey hairs I've plucked and cut
From my mustache under my nose
For now there's just two
Soon to be joined by quite a few
A lesson learned in wisdom for me,I suppose



Dan Kearley:2-15-13  


Copyright © Dan Kearley | Year Posted 2013

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A Truck Drivers Wife

I have been privileged,
 To hold in my life,
The title that’s known
 As a truck driver’s wife.
Now, women all know
Being married is rough.
But, marry a trucker,
And then let’s talk tough!
The miles that they run,
And, the job that they do,
Gives us grey hairs,
And fries our nerves too.
And when they get lonely,
 And call up the house,
Who’s there for ‘em to turn to?
it ain’t Mickey Mouse!
But, through all the turmoil,
The stress, struggle, and strife,
Those men appreciate
 The finer things in life,
And they’ll thank their lucky stars
For a truck drivers wife!


Copyright © annette Keller | Year Posted 2013

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Rileys Comet

A  stunning scene. Edited for our insatiable reading pleasure.  High on a tight-rope.
The debutant wearing her 2-piece at one end. The isis general at the other.The plot is for them to tip-toe, slowly towards each other.  Marking the point where they intervene.  There is to be no inter-course ,excuse me, social intercourse whatsoever!
Of course the debutant looses her balance and drops out of sight.  Don't worry though. A net hangs below to catch her.  At Parade rest the isis general waves, however he has little time to celebrate. A scheduled slot on 60 minutes. Interviewed
by a noted British journalists, still wearing her girl scout uniform. His tongue is about to unleash a divine calling, the inevitable War with US! Proving there dominance, to boot.  Its all about promiscuity, I hope you catch the simile's that follow.  Do we even
stand a chance?  Its difficult for me to picture, such a sexually pristine enemy.  I tip-toe to the bathroom mirror.  No new grey hairs.  I'm beyond the imperative years
of youthful sacrifice.  My true heroes are those involved building that "Net", which saved the  young debutant. dy                                                                                                                                       Caps off to you wise Gemini. 
                       Your work upon the Land.
                        If I could prose a simile.
                        Composure assumed grand.
                        Could it, still somehow stand.
                        Without praise, Commanded.
                         By the unseen Helping Hand.
  
May I please lend my hand?  If you would take time to review my  "Sensuous November 25th". (perhaps your busy building a fallout shelter.) Please be careful, don't set yourself up, to my telling you, "I told you so".  Or misconstrue my words. I'm a believer! I'm just searching for answers.  Really!
Last night I had a dream. I was a clay pigeon flying over a taped off shot-gun range. In my shadow spins an isis postmaster general, carrying deadly attache case ,and a sack of latticed envelopes. I was locked in his sights. Wondering which side would down me first. I awoke squawking   (God bless Steve Allen)  Was it brought on by the boloney sandwich I eat before I went to Bed?  Now I'm flying on to Las Vages, sin city, of all places. Rumors of a new wonderous fountain.  Its bottom lined with a dark blue vinyl, and affixed a radiant red light. Waves dancing on the bubbly surface, and a cool spraying mist.  Viewers gasping at the spectacle as though in the twilight, its held in orbit by mysterious hand.  Devout , happy evangelists marching towards it, embracing their White Bibles with gold lettering.  There leading a group of committed, eager patrons, and passionately declare the fountain, "A New Baptism Ground." Some are naked, one is carrying a sign. It reads "Jesus the Prince of Peace." No authorities are at the scene.  There at the casino, of course.  Next to the bars, next to the tattoo engraver.  Its all about promiscuity, I hope you catch the simile. Nearby stands the Vages Church
Its open doors hang a sign that reads. " Absolutely free tithe dancing lessons."
"Our purpose statement:  To extract the Good Milk, from the coconut, without 
abusing the Shell. Let us Pray;  A  Prayer for Peace.
I apologize, if it appears I'm painting a too virtual picture. Trying to paint a rose a rose. We live in trying times? My constituencies, ( If I have any?), are ready to take your comments,( If you have any?). As for me, I know my mission: Pitching my tent smack dab on that fountain.  Where I can lay, and sleep,and hope, and plead, and yes pray, and yes wait for Rileys Comet


Copyright © Oliver Krier | Year Posted 2015

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Bad Hair day - so I am hitting the bottle

I woke up this morning and my hair was such a mess
Its grey roots are showing through - oh dear I must confess
This lovely shade of titian red it really isn’t mine
But when I get the colour on I just look so divine

I open up the bottles and mix the liquids so
The mixture smells disgusting; but then again I know
Once I’ve hit the bottle and the mixture is all gone
Grey hairs will be covered so I have to carry on

My hair is dyed I cannot lie, but it makes me feel so great
To eradicate the grey ones it’s really down to fate
My mum went grey at an early age and dad he has hardly any left
So if I couldn’t dye my hair at all I would be quite bereft


Jan Allison
19th February 2014


Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2014

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Yoruba holy communion

Young as just a week,
He was wrapped in a flannel.
His tender feet were shoeless -
Today was his appointed time;
 His feet must dialogue with gods.

The frontage was kind
To the pews and table.
The priest stood before the gods,
His grey hairs vouched for his age.
He opened the dishes one by each 
And accredited their celestial contents.

Then he lifted the dish of water
And splashed the water on the ground -
The gods must drink before the man-
He filled the baby's mouth with drops:
Today you have quenched the gods' thirst,
May the gods reward you  with comfort.
Drink the water of life and live.

....and the people said,'' aseee''*


He stepped the baby's feet on the ground
Where exactly he poured the water:
You have poured cold water on your path,
Step on every soil unburned, 
walk in the coolness of gods.

... aseee

Then the next and the next :
A bit of fish, a bit of rat;
These are what we eat to grow,
Today I fill your mouth with them,
Eat and grow in life.

...aseee.

... And the next three:
Salt, honey and sugar -
The sweeteners of life border no bitterness;
The gods feed you with sweeteners today,
Dwell in the sweetness of life.

....aseee.

And alligator pepper;
He dropped some seeds on the ground
And put a seed in the baby's mouth:
The day alligator pepper built its house,
It filled it with seeds;go with its potency
And fill your house with fruit of womb.

....aseee.

Then the red-oil -
He poured some on the ground
And fed the baby with drops:
Oil is the antidote to the hotness of pepper,
I cover you today with its potency;
Go and triumph upon every challenge.

...aseee.

Go and triumph upon every challenge,
Fill your house with fruit of womb,
Dwell in the sweetness of life,
Eat and grow in life,
Walk in the coolness of gods,
Drink the water of life and live.

Aseee.



aseee* means 'so be it''


Copyright © KAYOD5 Kayode | Year Posted 2015

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CHANGED MY Underwear,------- and My Name

I
change my name 
like 
underwear...
fairly often, I suppose

I 
change my clothes 
like 
area codes
and Imma' damn gypsy, ya' see

I 
keep it fresh ta' death
nada
speck of blood
or 
ketchup on my attire

I 
got more rhymes 
than I got grey hairs
and 
that's an effing lot
because i got my share

I 
digg a 
hot-fire piece of passionate verse
those are 
indeed 
rare to find

YET...
if  only poets would 
unleash the fury 
instead of 
holding back
what's really 
on their mind...

I must say...
the library, 
the internet, 
the etc. etc...
would be a less stinky place...
AND, maybe 
I'd keep my name, and sever ties with 
underwear's elastic,
and just go 
APE-Spit Spastic!~



Copyright © JSLambert Mister ROBOTO | Year Posted 2012

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I AM

I am but an entity in a vast universe,
human in form, of female persuasion
I breathe, I walk, I run and I talk
of my skin I guess label: Caucasian

I wear a few flaws upon my form
though to some they aren’t seen as such
My attitude much depends on yours
though kindness may ignore verbal punch

I try to treat my fellow human friends
in a way that I’d like to be treated
but I’ll not become someone’s doormat
of this, a warning… not repeated

Brown of hair with two matching eyes
…though at my age grey hairs shine through
Mother of two, grandmother of nine
Great-grandmother of more than a few

I am an accumulation of many things
from birth to this point in my life
I’ve welcomed growth within myself
riddled with life’s conflict and strife

Of the spirit within there’s much to blend
with living challenges thrown in the mix
yet still I’m a soul with infinite life 
that’s constantly in need of love’s fix 

I am a unique and complex gal
labeled and numbered in my world
but none of these can define who I am
I’m still a bloom not completely unfurled

And…In this life I answer to Debra 
 
© Debra Squyres


Copyright © Debra Squyres | Year Posted 2014

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AGEING

**** please note British spelling of ageing used **** If the truth is told I’m getting old - Of that there’s no denying Grey hairs appear upon my head I dye them, I’m not lying My memory is not what it once was I keep forgetting what I have said I keep forgetting what I have said Got wrinkles and lines around my mouth My boobies sadly they have gone south Thankfully all my teeth are still my own, A denture smile has not yet grown I’m lucky I’m slim and don’t have to watch my weight Got my pile of vitamin pills they dominate my plate I wear glasses for my eyesight, they help me to see Alas, when I can’t find them I say oh deary me BUT they’re perched on my head – oh pity me My memory is not what it once was I keep forgetting what I have said I keep forgetting what I have said Still it’s not yet time for the scrap heap for me Now I simply curl up, pen a poem and drink a cup of tea A tongue in cheek write - or is it … 17th August 2015


Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2015

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Unsung Hero

Unsung Hero
By: Sami LaRose

I do not lie, I do not deny that my Dad is the apple of my eye

The greatest man I have ever known to walk this earth, and do it alone

He'd beat down anyone for me just for giving me a harsh tone.

With his little grey hairs and sometimes funny mustache, tough is not something you'd first expect.

Tough to the bone, even tougher than nails, my dad is the greatest marine that's prevailed.

With a soft spot in his heart for his one and only daughter, over the years it began to make his Tummy grow larger.

Always "checking for poison in my food" he'd say. To little to comprehend he as taking my food away.

An old jolly man, but young at heart he always try's to help me find the light when I am in the dark.

Never meaning any wrong Intentionally , I'm sorry if it seems like I take advantage sometimes

He  would fly to the moon and back to for me, he is more than just a dad, and he is not just family, he is my bestie.

I hope you find it in your heart to forgive me

I love you Daddy


Copyright © Sami LaRose | Year Posted 2012

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PATTERNS HERE



Observe and see
Festive cheer warms;
Spirits set free

~~~~~~~~~


Cherry blossoms
Pink carpet pathway;
Waiting patiently

~~~~~~~~~


Here's to you
Sakura moments;
Sparkling sunshine

~~~~~~~~~


Moon overhead
View from my window;
Tender conversations

~~~~~~~~~


Mahjong games
Relatives chit-chat;
My winning streak

~~~~~~~~~


Touch of magic
Spring wind rustles;
Cheery blossoms fall

~~~~~~~~~


Moonlight stroll
Old arch bridge;
Squeaky wood groans

~~~~~~~~~


Two cats sit
Eerie moon glow;
February interlude

~~~~~~~~~


Business sold
Fortune gained;
Hollow feeling

~~~~~~~~~


Here's to good cheer
Another year;
Grey hairs draw near

~~~~~~~~~


Old footpath short cut
Patient feet chiseled;
Old habits die hard

~~~~~~~~~


Memories unfurl
Grass verge updates;
Poignant moments

~~~~~~~~~


Joy greets sorrow
Sad together;
Melancholia sings

~~~~~~~~~


Elysia calls
Going home again;
Sudden departure

~~~~~~~~~


Photo album
Old era relatives;
Sepia burnout

~~~~~~~~~


Study abroad 
Down Under Melbourne;
Kangaroo hop-scotch

~~~~~~~~~


Tinge of sadness
Stop to remember;
Fond times quicken

~~~~~~~~~


Airport terminal
Exquisite dine-in;
One for the road

~~~~~~~~~


Listless here
Holiday moods;
Mahjong punctuation

~~~~~~~~~


Toss of lucky food
Yu Sheng expose;
Fortune smiles

~~~~~~~~~


Words catch up
Meaning and motive;
Juxtapose

~~~~~~~~~


Spring season
Oriental red;
Chinatown tinctures

~~~~~~~~~




Leon Enriquez
22 February 2015
Singapore


Copyright © Leon Enriquez | Year Posted 2015

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SANGUINE HAIKU




Lazy afternoon
Telemovie and naps;
Weary bones

~~~~~~~~~


Words surge
Simple ideas;
Walk fond talk

~~~~~~~~~


Old path here
Winding and trampled;
Grass verge survives

~~~~~~~~~


Day trip outing
Viewing construction;
New house takes shapes

~~~~~~~~~


Sanguine feel
Haiku streams flow;
Interim substance

~~~~~~~~~


Cosmic fireworks
Meteors flying;
Starry black night

~~~~~~~~~


House hunting
Beauty calls;
Homing device

~~~~~~~~~


Saturday moods
Festive weekend;
No one visits

~~~~~~~~~


Sudden and sure
Ageing feels awkward;
Grey hairs and paunch

~~~~~~~~~


Ancient memories
Sharp contrast;
Silver moonbeams

~~~~~~~~~


Desolate thoughts
Swing in and out;
Suspicion punctuates

~~~~~~~~~




Leon Enriquez
07 June 2015
Singapore


Copyright © Leon Enriquez | Year Posted 2015

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COME, PLUCK A SONG




What makes your smile cold? On springtime colors bold? Hummingbirds croon from afar Wilder than tambourine, Thrilling the night’s gauze sheen. Come, pluck the tangy guitar Dance a belly-go-round, Before grey hairs abound--- Be the chant of life’s bright star! © rights reserved ' ' ' ' '' '' '''' '' ' Show Me for Brian Strand's Contest By: nette onclaud


Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2011

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IN DAYS GONE BY

IN DAYS GONE BY


I once was young, or so
it's said
With no grey hairs atop
my head
But time goes by, cares
not a fig
My brown hair now comes
in a wig.

My teeth were sharp from
front to back
No nut for them too hard 
to crack,
Now porcelain molars are
my chums
Slippering wetly on my
gums.

My eyes could view the
distant stars
And scan the clouds round
planet Mars
But now it's just a rheumy
haze
As through my pebble lens
I gaze.

My ears could hear the
leaf that fell
So softly from the asphodel
But now a crashing oak's
unclear
Though neighbour to my
trumpet ear.

My legs were sleek and
full of grace
I moved with smooth 
gazelle-like pace
But nubile limbs long since
have changed
All purple now and 
varicose-veined.

The passing years have
drained the fire
I doubt I'd find a willing
buyer
And yet my woes and
cares are few
No former moments
that I rue.

So many memories full
of fun
And not just when I was
a nun
But all throughout, no
moment dull
A stream of living to the
full.

And so with just a 
backward glance
I'll look ahead and pray
the chance
Of further years that 
satisfy
As much as those in
days gone by.

BY
DARRYL ASHTON    


Copyright © Darryl Ashton | Year Posted 2016

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SLAVERY II

My soul rebuffs this show of selfless gain ,
Though my wages are higher than a few ,
I’m still encased in caves like an insane ,
As my reign as the head beclouds my view .

Ploughing other people’s farm for so long ,
Oblivious  of time is full of deceit ,
Which in reality makes me change my song ,
My boss wants me to remain on this seat ,

But I need to annul this present state ,
Though many goodies attached at this time ,
To remain stagnant is not a good fate ,
Started this long ago ,when in my prime .

Alas! Now my muscles and bones are weak ,
Grey hairs emit from my skins with passion ,
Being in this cosmetic state makes me sick ,
As my mind detests and loves this fission .


Copyright © olusegun Arowolo | Year Posted 2017

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While its yours

Is it fair that youth is beauty
That the best we can ever be
Is before we are twenty three
Why can't a wrinkle be sexy
Who says grey hairs are icky
Contact lenses are too tricky
Comfort and ease of eyeglasses
Tri focal eyeglasses
But why, but how, when
Did youth escape and old fogey begin
The burden of life's responsibilities
The worry of offspring indeed
The need for success
The desire to impress
That weather our smooth silky skin
Into worn leather feel rough and thin
Tooth loss and baldness
Nose hairs and body aches
Disease and numbness
Hot flashes and body shakes
Dimming of senses
Enlargement of ears
Shrinking by inches
New things are fears
Tired blood and blue veins
Forgetting whats her name
Corns and bunions
Yelling at them youngins
Jello instead of steak
Maalox replaces milkshakes
Eat dinner at four asleep by nine
Can't believe the speed of time
Is it fair that youth is beauty
Why can't being old be better
Then aches from change of weather
To using a cain instead of raising it
Gumming a steak until you can't spit
Just think how sexy you will be
If you finally reach forty three
Lets change our perspective
Not be so narrowly selective
Enough of the smooth shapely firm
Cute bouncing buns we had and yearn
Let's hear it for the pale faded
Wrinkled saggy way nature made it
Posteriors of the more mature crowd
On second thought without my glasses

Youth is beauty
Enjoy while its yours



Copyright © Fritz Purdum | Year Posted 2014

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MORE THAN EVER HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY


I know the upbeat feeling of a mother today Humankind invented this day A special day God knows our sacrifices Our love is cherished Nobody could have been surpassed We long our life could never passed Grey hairs are symbols Of worldwide significance and proofs Your sweetest love and virtues Are forever ours Children and grandchildren love you MOTHERS, God has made you A priceless GIFT from our Almighty.


Copyright © Dalila Agtani | Year Posted 2012

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It's my birthday

It's Your Birthday and quite an old age
Always in her  pajamas and acts on stage.
Shall we send another year with luck to her?
And maybe her eyesight is very, very blur!

Looked in the mirror, and wrinkles on her face,
Never to say, " I love you"  or get on her case.
Just a day over eighty-one and stubborn as can be,
Don't want to blow my candles, please set me free!

Ageless, grey hairs, wrinkles, and numbness in my body,
And I'm thankful I've lived this long, but now, I'm nobody!
So I shout once more, "It's your birthday", today
For we love you, never pain, or sorrow, please pray!

Another celebration filled with balloons and a pretty cake,
A long lifetime, please be nice to everyone, for God's sake!
You've been so grouchy lately, no smile, and tears on you,
On a special day like this, "I'ts your birthday", don't be a fool!


Copyright © Yolaine Armitage | Year Posted 2012

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Life Lessons Baby Girl Didn't Make The Team

Life Lessons Baby Girl Didn't Make The Team


Baby stop your crying
You didn't make Bobby Socks All Star Team
It's okay, let it go
It's not the end of the world, baby
There's always next year
And soon after that 
There's high school ball
You're only eleven, baby 
You're only eleven
Think of the big picture
Think, think
You had fun 
You had a blast
You helped your team win the championship
That's the main thing
You best not be worrying too much
You'll be getting grey hairs, like your mama
Or a heart attack like your father
Please mama, stop
Please
Mama I was the best
The ballots were rigged
They are a bunch of sneaks in the night
Snakes between the lines
Mama the coaches picked their pets
Apples to the core
I know it
I hate Bobby Socks
I hate Bobby Socks 
I'll never play again
Mama the votes were rigged
Like Bush vs. Gore in 2000
I had the most home runs and hits
I could pitch and field with the best
Mama where did I go wrong
Mama ... please
I asked the coaches why, and they ignore me
They ignore me, like I'm weird or something
As if they have something to hide
Like shame or embarrassment
Mama where did I go wrong
I hate those apples to the core
I hate them
Oh baby come here to your mama's arms
Stop shedding those tears, please
This is so reminiscent when your father's
painting didn't place in the art contest
So reminiscent
He was so distraught like you
Even more so
He didn't eat for two days 
Or sleep
His eyes were so red with anger
That he didn't speak to no one, including me
Hear this baby, and stop rolling your eyes
He went on to social media and made a spectacle of himself
It was so sad to watch 
He stood up for what he believed
Against those black bears down river 
That kept tearing him apart
Where he thought his art was better than the rest
For two days he was on the moon
He wrote the most egregious comments
Oh yes he did, beleive me
I even have print outs to show you one day
Baby, the point is that you will  certainly come back even stronger
Look Michael Jordan and Stephen Curry 
Didn't make their basketball teams
And look where they are today, 
Two of the best players in NBA history
The point is baby it hurts now
I agree
But you need to keep blossoming
You need to
Like being the best red rose you can be
The best in the dozen
I promise
You'll end up being way better for this
I promise, baby
I promise

connie pachecho

12/27/16


Copyright © connie pachecho | Year Posted 2016

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MY FOREFATHERS

My forefathers once poured dry gin on the
green land of Nkporo from the North to the west,
Prayed for prosperity and harmony to their children.
Gathered us under the half yellow moon and narrated 
To us the traditions and cultures of our people.
"Ifeoma di na iru, Nke iru ka" they said.
Discouragement and fear is for the weak.
They once lived happily with little or nothing to hold 
Onto and yet bounced back on their responsibilities with courage.
Blew the whistle of peace and sounded the drums of oneness
Among the Osu and the Ogbanje down the stream.
They waited patiently for the new yam festivals
With smiles on their broad, sweet black faces watching
The children danced in the village square of Nkporo.
They marked Nzu on their foreheads
Give little to the strangers who visited them in their Obi.
The Omu tightly fixed on their hands and some on thier hands 
Down on the sand beside their Obi Agu we watched 
Them Keenly, the gods were with us all along.
"Njiko ka Anyi jiri biri" they said in one accord.
Strife, corruption, injustice, embezzlement of public fund, they know not.
But looked up to the gods in Agbala for hjustice.
Nkporo masquerade they entertained themselves with.
Wisdom, they visited with kola nut in their lips,
Cutting it into pieces as they talked with wisdom.
"go to the ant and learn" wisdom advised them 
Only them knows why women bend down while urinating and men stands.
Only my fore fathers could tell why The He goat smell.
They worn understanding like a chain round their neck 
Tied joy round their waist like a wrapper.
Only them could tell why babies never talk.
When we asked why?
they told us to wait till we have grey hairs,
But the cultures and traditions they never fail to paased them to us with smiles.
Great and mighty they were,
My forefathers, who once matched the Nkporo sand to the south south for war.
Defeated and conquered the Iboms.
Now i matched them as i walked ,
The soil i matched were my forefathers
Death had feasted on them and they turn to mud which i match.Ages past, my forefathers know not matches but they made fire,
Healthy were they in their little world of hope.
Now they are gone, wisdom gone.
Sickness hastened by as good health escape 
Centuries passed by when i"ve seen my forefathers last.


Copyright © john chizoba vincent | Year Posted 2014

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GETTING OLDER

I cannot see what is
directly in front of me.
I can no longer conceal
the hairs on my
chinny chin, chin.
My breasts still look fine,
but I can no longer
pretend those size ten
jeans are mine.
My hair is silver,
with a lovely shine,
but, grey hairs on
my eyebrows?? Oh, 
No, they're not mine.
Sweating profusely
for no reason at all.
All of a sudden feeling hot,
without so much
as a dirty thought.
The upside is...
I'm at home in my skin.
I embrace my talents,
My shortcomings too.
I consider my success as,
my beautiful girls,
my work, my friends,
and you.



Copyright © JEAN MURRAY | Year Posted 2015

Details | Grey Hairs Poem | Create an image from this poem.

evil has come

the famous age-grade mourns
those who pour libations
are now a mockery 
by the sides of my forests
the enemies has come out
with bows, arrows and spears
where are the warriors
who gave these forests life
the fire is out 
no new fire-woods are near-by
the few grey hairs are taken away
from the forests
none is here to mend the thatched
roofs of the homestead
where are the okonkwos?
where's obierika?
where's diochi?
where's otenkwu?
the forests have been emptied
fathers have come
to the burial of the sons
aru eme-e, evil has come
to the forests.



Copyright © Canny Amah | Year Posted 2013

Details | Grey Hairs Poem | Create an image from this poem.

ARIKE AND THE CHANGING TIME

The times are fast changing
The certainty of season is 
evading
The sure signs of weather has 
for long disappeared
Along with our cultures and 
moral values has smeared
Oh Arike! may my eyes not see 
the evil the day brings

The scorching sun burns so 
hot at day
The chilly cold oppresses no 
less at night
The youths and young ones 
has missed the way
Groping blindly around with 
vain confidence in the light
Oh Arike! may you not be deaf 
to the wise words of age

Life in the world now seem 
strange
Young men move around 
deranged
Treating our words with 
hapless disdain.
Basking in their own fooly, 
prolonging their pain
Arike my daugther! may you 
never miss your way.

Day after day our wise words 
are ignored
Seconds in minutes 
out;pollution permeates our 
atmosphere
Caution is thrown to the wind
And we fail to realise the fact 
that the man who eats his cake 
will never have it.
Arike!Arike!! Heed my words

Like our elders will say;
If the sun claims to be brighter 
than the moon,tell me why 
doesn't it shines at night?
If the youth claim to be wiser
Why dont they pull a strand of 
grey from their hair
Arike! Its high time our words 
are heeded.

No man heeds the wise words 
of age and still misses the way.
Experience they say is the 
better teacher
Lessons learnt from 
experience are treasures to be 
guarded jealously
The young man who glorious 
foolishly in his strength
Is no sooner consumed by 
pride than by an adversary.
Arike my daughter! Heed my 
words

Follow the path of destiny and 
see where it leads
Follow the creator who set out 
your life from the outset we 
earnestly plead
Heed our words,the wise 
words of age
Even though we know it is not 
the grey hairs that makes one 
a sage.
Nevertheless,it does matter in 
the end,b'cos we have been 
there in your shoes.
Arike! Arike!! Arike!!! Let it be 
known that we played our part

Before the time finally 
changes,and the certainty of 
season departs
Heed our words and desist 
from your actions
He that has got ears,let him 
hear...



 



Copyright © Israel Olaniyan | Year Posted 2013

Details | Grey Hairs Poem | Create an image from this poem.

appreciation for a well earned promotion

days have now turned into years
there are a few grey hairs
i notice a wrinkle here and there
pain is felt in places that i never had before
i guess that is what comes with getting older
however....our love grows younger everyday
it keeps me spritely i reckon
it is never easy always, but loving you is always easy....dig that!
i never thought i would ever say this and mean it, but i love you more everytime the earth spins in a full circle
that means we have evolved in a circle of life that has come full circle in multiples of infinity
that means something to me more than you know
as you lay sleeping on my right thigh for the milliumteeth time, i just shake my head at the realization that God has His Own Plans for us
it may not be at all the way we imagined our lives to be, but then you are living your dream in a way that is completely opposite of the carefully crafted art in your mind
though i am living in many unified zones of twilight, i'll be doggone if my smile didn't give me away so easily
years are now decorated and celebrated as sweet decadence


Copyright © Marty King | Year Posted 2015