Coming Of Age Poems - Poems about Coming Of Age

Growing up to fast and coming of age

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

Hopping Trains

On Friday nights we’d sneak into
the railyard and wait
in the shadows 
between the floodlights for a train
slow enough for us to hop,
our hands already tingling
with the promise of flight.

We trotted beside the train,
waiting for the right moment
to grab a boxcar’s ladder
and climb to the roof like outlaws—
aware of the danger
and thrilled by it—
as the train

Changing Trains

I used to ride the train
from school to home and back,
every other weekend,
in an old Pullman car
built in the nineteen-thirties.
It smelled like my grandma’s house—
a little musty, like time 
had curled up and fallen asleep 
in the cushions.
Too warm, always,
but the clickety-clack over 
tie bars and rail frogs
lulled me to sleep,
rocking me gently
as if the

Ugly Orange Shutters

Ugly Orange Shutters

It’s ½ past midnight when I ease my 1989 white Nissan Sentra into the long driveway of Horseshoe Rd. A decade past its prime but its engine is still strong. I’m late, but no one ever waits up. The lights are off, but the moonlight reflects an abnormal glow off the ugly orange

Banned Book Club VI

Conservatives’ banning’s apropos of nothing
At twelve when he delt with this
shouldn't have to jump through hoops
should’ve been able to explore when a teen
But because of many conservative groups
The Ire excessive was the coming of age
Juvenile mistakes made in adult years
Denied the ability to pick up social skills
Sexual assault and sexual awaking
considered pornographic
Q**r’s  often live

The Featured Twirler

Oh that Lily, she the epitome of a  
Golden Child as I watched her
Exuding effortless grace, a liquid-silver baton—  
a Haddon Heights Garnett.  
a Blazing Comet /  
enchanting /  
popular and stunning.  

Envious, was I, her?  
a younger sister playing the silent shadow.  
watching from the 

List of people I've kissed

Do you remember like I do, 
the way we’d jump with giddy— 
Or how we’d grit our teeth,
waiting for something to happen?

Your feeling,
A pulse that nipped the green off my leaves,
like I was holding something in my mouth,
something I couldn’t swallow.

A space between urge & action. 
A pause before the pull, 
where everything hangs, 
and

Sour Drinks

She'll be the queen of my decrepit ridgeline,
Her crown, heavy with my wasted want.
Never knows best, a fault of design.

Her tensions a dagger, a cunning divine,
A soul-bleeder, god as a vaunt.
She'll be the queen of my decrepit ridgeline.

The arson of anger will never confine,
For the plaid that’s been woven, I a gaunt
Never knows best, a

A New Day - Wildflowers

Roads long squandered,
Routes trained to memory.
a crack in the long unyielding concrete
unremarkable.

Then, a wildflower
A peculiar pink.
Leather, nostalgia.
Cinnamon, mellow.

Stop dead in my tracks,
Wistful, yearn.
Many a while did I dream of creation
After all, what does it take?
Soil, water, an undefeated soul.

Many a while did I long for something that called me God.
Many a while did I pick

Your Ass Belongs to the Army

They say the journey to adulthood is supposed to be a slow coming of age process that allows the time to contemplate what role we’ll play in our future. We check off all the options. Burn out some brain cells in college or maybe find that ‘special someone’ and take a few years to plan

Coming Of Age, The Rite

a tender voice recites, muse’s lyrics flow                                                

Lavender Woman

I awoke from a small seed
Born from the sun and earth of humble origins 
Surrounded by others waiting to bloom 
A journey I took,
Through the soil until the sun turned to smile on my face 
My leaves turned upwards

I awoke to see the sprouts around me 
All of us different, 
Yet connected 
In this desert

Turning Point - Coming of Age - Acceptance at Last

("Mrs. It Dances Through It", 2014, original pen and ink)

Turning Point - Coming of Age - Acceptance at Last

Finally at age 65 I reach a turning point
Where a lifetime of doing is seen
To be just a lifetime of accumulating
Moments and things to give purpose
And a reason to be perhaps,
But more likely just a way to

Coming of Age

Dangerous Fools and Evil Idiots
They agree to disagree
Always spitefully fastidious
About each other’s pedigree
Always at the war, that goes
With no hope to prove who’s right
There’s no right, because it flows
Through their fingers to the light
Of forgotten source they knew
In the times of childhood years
When the mornings looked brand new
And they lived knowing no fears.

Big Wide World

unleashed
  I may waiver
  satin spoils
  are new to me

yield,
  your monotone salute
suckling praised
  a freedom from fur
  the hunt is mine
  devoutly

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