Long Ageing Poems
Long Ageing Poems. Below are the most popular long Ageing by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Ageing poems by poem length and keyword.
In the quiet morning light, for the first
time, I truly gazed into the mirror,
What I saw was unrecognisable,
I must confess I was close to it but
had to draw closer still,
I was surprised to see a jigsaw of
times past.
Once a canvas, unmarked,
Now wrinkles, each a story of lessons
learnt and experiences lived,
Fine lines depict laughter, joy and
worry,
Scars show battles fought and love lost,
Spots show signs of neglect.
The colours in a once shiny black crown,
Changed to threads of silver and
reddish-brown,
Eyes once full of dreams now reflect
the wisdom of life’s true realities,
And smiling lips have somehow
lost their smile.
I told myself that I was half asleep,
so I rubbed my eyes and washed my
face,
Then made sure all the lights were on,
and looked in the mirror again,
Time’s gentle hand had left its trace,
I was taken aback and childishly asked
the mirror to explain.
In the silence of wonder, I saw the
truth in my reflection, a weathered
face,
As the seasons came and went they
laid shadows on the terrain,
Showing a journey where youth and
wisdom blend,
Gently, I touch each line on the surface.
Each jigsaw piece I cherish, so let the
years gather,
To the beauty of ageing, with gratitude
and grace, I embrace my refrain.
By Zyrool
Springing free from glistening
Fronds
The summers heat leaps for
Height;
Whilst drifting obscurely far
Above
A distant lark now hangs in
Flight.
Floats down his sweet trill,
Accompanied by joyous and
Uplifting revelry,
Over the black crows nasal
Calls;
Whose draped shadow,
contemplating devilry,
Flaps and furtively falls
Into ripening bean fields
Planted in neatly sowed rows:
Nourished in darkest till,
Enriched by pedantic verse of
Gaelic odes.
Do now these gentle Slopes
Pause to yield
Where secretive song,
Bursting forth, is much concealed
inside the plain of Aidhne;
For here the great rock of the
Burren,
Whereby so implored upon,
Revealed its grey stones...
To rebuild ancient and deserted
Thoor Ballylee.
Sweeping briskly past a tors
Grassy island busy in bloom,
Eagerly cramming under four
Crouched arches,
Skim the borrowed waters of
Thee immortal Cloone;
Dappling currents
Dawdling around squat stanchions -
Staunchly carrying the quiet bridge
Over the old concourse:
Momentarily loitering -
Wantonly begging to coyly swoon...
Now, joyfully sporting in gushing
Discourse,
Gleefully courting elusive and
Glimmering enchantments:
Mirrored reflections enticed to
Enter -
To be forever trapped within a
Burbling rivers sacred rhyme and
Tune.
Higher and higher the spiraling
Stairs of de Burgo
When through airy woodland
Glades
The towering shadow sought;
And higher and higher the spirit
Of an ageing poet...
His crowding thoughts
Roaming freely amidst these
Fabled legends of Gort.
Harken then to the feathered
Herald -
Tis Gods design that calls on
Ye!
For few men know of what he
Sings...
He sings of the forgotten paths
Forever lost within Innisfree.
Mind moves
Motives mingle;
Meaning mulls
~~~~~~~~~
Primal play
Puzzles poise;
Pretty pace
~~~~~~~~~
Notice noise
Nimble near;
Nurture noose
~~~~~~~~~
Sell story
Sanguine stuff;
Stray streak
~~~~~~~~~
Laughing loud
Lofty leaks;
Latitude
~~~~~~~~~
Crazy cruise
Careless crooks;
Comforts calm
~~~~~~~~~
Little logic
Lifting laze;
Looking loud
~~~~~~~~~
Mystic moment
Meekly mild;
Massage motive
~~~~~~~~~
Pregnant program
Pretty puzzle;
Poignant poise
~~~~~~~~~
Ample apps
Asking apt;
Active ageing
~~~~~~~~~
Lovely lines
Lust lingers;
Living lewd
~~~~~~~~~
Tumble tells
True taste;
Tilting thoughts
~~~~~~~~~
Effect earns
Embrace exit;
Etching entrance
~~~~~~~~~
Corner cafe
Coffee cuppa;
Creamy choice
~~~~~~~~~
Noisy news
Nasty notions;
Niche new noose
~~~~~~~~~
Passion points
Postures proof;
Pleasant play
~~~~~~~~~
Vivid voice
Value verses;
Volume vague
~~~~~~~~~
Dying dream
Drizzle dilutes;
Death displays
~~~~~~~~~
Nerves note
Nasty noose;
Naked noise
~~~~~~~~~
Caress comfort
Cool charm cheers;
Crazy change charms
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
16 September 2015
Singapore
What can an ageing hands write,
but for few words of wisdom,
gained over the years of,
life and experience.
There is nothing called true love,
you are wanted for what you give.
Become bad love is replaced by hatred,
that's the truth of love here.
Desire is the root cause of evils,
always leading to anger, frustration and destruction.
The subtle truth of life is that,
you will have in abundance,
what you care least about.
By keeping silence one can easily avoid,
commotion fights and hurts.
Silent mind leads to perfection in action,
immense peace and eternal bliss.
Ego makes men stupid,
it is best to shun it,
no one knows everything,
no one can survive without assistance.
Life is a succession of moments,
we must live, enjoy every moment.
We must create a treasure of happy moments,
it should keep increasing, growing.
Never allow "what others will think?" to decide your life,
do what you think is right.
Be an harbringer of change,
not a brainless copycat.
Reins of sense organs,
should be in your hands,
Don't let them dictate your life.
If you want a change,
lead the way,
only if you are perfect,
other will follow you.
However bad others may be,
you be good, never do bad,
All are punished for the bad deeds,
no questions asked.
Love, nice words, help, money,
or what else be your want,
Give them in abundance.
We get back what we give,
many times more than given.
Have faith in God,
pray from bottom of the heart,
he will surely help,
if your faith is true.
Real aim of our life is salvation,
it must be sought while we're still young.
Never postpone anything for tomorrow,
you may or may not be there.
Lastly I wish to thank all people,
who have given me joy.
You are a part of my treasure bag,
I look at it of and on.
Date: 7/18/2020
2nd position
The sun brightly shinning
My coffee brown complexion showing signs of ageing
The untrimmed reflection of the sea
My gold bikini represented sophistication and maturity
As I lay mesmerised under the shade
I, me, myself recollected my thoughts
Oh, the heaven must be transmitting my wishes
A splendored scenery
The possession of a vanilla ice cream in my hand
Left me licking my fingers
The ear buds where nowhere to be found
Left me listening to the background sound of the birds
As the temperate kept on raising
I could lease this feeling I had
Oh, the momentum to sustain these emotions was eternal
A inclusive environment
Blood drips from my weary eyes
Tears weeping for the tyranny of time
Villainy rapped up in the atmosphere
Raping and seducing the innocent without fear.
The baseness of aged old women
And the iniquities of hoary men
Mingling in dirty beds dining in public places
And sleeping with gray- haired jezebels.
The ageing moments creeps slowly upon the door steps
Spewing out guilt and starving shame
Greedy guts packed with treacherous fumes
Mesmerizing the mind of innocent youths.
The authoritarian amalgamate with them
Laughing with them feasting with them
And shaking their bloody and filthy hands
Wounding hearts puncturing souls
Yet half of the story is still untold.
The music rattles on battered edges
Playing a sour disgusting tune
Gearing up for a perilous journey
Hoping that it will give them victory.
I spent the entire night in the parking lot
Crying out to my invisible God
Asking him to show his hand of mercy
And deal promptly with this vicious cruelty
I wept and prayed yet everything remained the same way.
But yesterday while driving around the block
Something magnificent happen right on the spot.
The big round moon with its glowing light shone directly through my
Windscreen and I saw a face in the brightly lit moon
It was smiling as if it was speaking directly to me
I had to keep my eyes on the road so I glanced at it for a few seconds.
And when I circled around the block
The face in the moon smiled at me again.
©2014 Christine Phillips
How precious life is…
When the old rocker rocks in his wheelchair…
ACDC heavy precious metal ‘like a wheel spinning’
‘Highway to hell…on my way to the promised land’
‘Where have all the flowers gone’ merges mellow into
Guns and Roses, let us hope the latter on the ladder
of Zeppelins and friendly tunes of ‘Stairway to Heaven’
Thomas has no doubt because Saturday is visit time…
No Black Sabbath and not Bad Company today
not stoned any longer where Black had been Black
but Deep Purple floating the beat in fading memories
a Sweet Child in Time ‘line between good and bad’
Uriah Heep’s Sunrise and ‘new day is breaking through’
The ageing blues takes its due…
For ‘Whom the Bell Tolls’ on lemmings’ way Ding Dong
ABC frosted roads searching for Camus’ stranger come
use your remembrance because it won’t last forever when
the sea parts and Odysseus stays in the grave underworld
where Dante’s Inferno meets Mephisto but Satan can wait
A traveller close to the gate of redemption…
he counts his blessings slowly on an ancient dusty abacus
123 he takes lock stock and barrel laughs at the numbers
In his prime he had refused to accept he could not divide
takes out the ruler to conquer his world computes divisions
adds them all up tallies on the wilting spread sheet of time
Inheritance subjected to paper he determines…
not gold no diamonds just a coin here and there
weaves nostalgia to ribbons from a few shoe strings
attached and detached bound closely together as he
holds photographs to his priceless brain caresses
them dearly touches his soul and soothes his mind
When the stroke assaults and takes him home…
he crosses the flow of the Styx and finally recalls how
precious life has been and dies a happy man on his way…
Van Gogh refused my cigarette, ‘No thanks, I’ve got one ear’
*
The zoo wanted some antelope but they were just two deer
*
I offered the cabbie some chewing gum, he said do you think that’s fare
*
Why did Adam eat the apple when Eve had a lovely pear
*
The tyrant banned men in white shirts: people are going to dye
*
He claimed to have some caustic soda, was that some kind of Lye
*
The ageing mechanic removed the wheel, he was ready to re-tyre
*
Robin Hood was livid, the donuts were in the friar
*
A starving woman’s fave celebs are bound to be ‘has beans’
*
Men just seem to like her, is it something in her jeans
*
My search for water in the haunted woods ended in a creak
*
Folk are stealing mountains, should we take a peak
*
I’m spraying herbs with weed-o-cide: I’m only killing thyme
*
The mountaineer was chilly, he preferred a sunny clime
I Stare in the Mirror
I stare in the mirror and what do I see?
An old man with rheumy eyes looking at me.
Who is this old codger, this balding old shell,
Who cannot remember what it’s like to feel well?
Where is the vibrance, the get up and go?
Why are his movements so painful and slow?
Who stole his glowing skin, his dark flashing eyes,
His derring-do, courage, his sense of emprise?
What happened to big ideas? Future? Ambition?
Why do his joints fight a war of attrition?
Why can he see clearly adolescence long past,
When he cannot remember the thing he ate last?
It doesn’t make sense, I don’t recognise him,
With his belly and baldness and weakness of limb.
No! That mirror’s a liar, whatever I see.
Whoever that old man is, he can’t be me!
Sleep, New Year …..
Sleep New Year, in cold Winter’s frozen grasp.
From deep slumber dream of the coming year;
Give Old Winter's end to March’s last sharp gasp,
Let playful Spring banish false Winter cheer.
Past the equinox in chilled slumber’s dream
Tell the year’s gifts, set in harsh Winter’s hand,
Which, given to Seasons in turn, will scheme
To let bold Summer play upon the land.
Then, in her turn, show fair fragile Autumn,
Golden child of Winter now come of age.
Dream New Year, in blanket of cool mists cloaked,
White shrouded against the harsh season’s rage.
Foretell, when the tired and ageing year wanes,
How spent seasons pass and then sleep again.
01/08/2017