Long Growing older Poems
Long Growing older Poems. Below are the most popular long Growing older by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Growing older poems by poem length and keyword.
Swimming in the deep depths of tales
A place where writers sometimes go
In urgent need to find themselves
To envision again the writing flow
A place where words swim like fish
Many are like sirens that sing in bubbles
that carries their voices in bliss
Hiding their beauty in the trenches tunnels
All glow shining with inscriptions within
Giving ideas that can create
A plot for your mind to confine in
That exploit to initiate.
As you go deeper in the abyss of it's body
It gets darker, colder
Luring you to it's embody
Time is growing older
As getting closer yet feeling bolder
Enthralled in its ebony shadows shoulder
Now alone with a blank mind
No one can save you this time
It's up to you on how to evade the mine.
It wants you there
Now trapped and soon in need of air
You're falling in despair
It's calling you but seemingly to not bear!!!
Swimming through is a murky cast
It swims in, at full blast
Stalks you like a shark
Can't see well it's too dark!!!
Freshly still like a simple bass
It's way too sharply fast
As hoping that good fate
Will make it pass
Or make you it's ideal bait
Maybe even to occasion a special date.
It comes...... It comes!!!
Then silence fills to surround
Yet there's nothing around
With not a speck of sound
What has happened?
This is all so rapid...
Am I dead in the oceanic's shroud?
Then a source of swirling light
Endows my presence
A feeling so unique in essence
giving me a sense of no fright
Darkness and fear is now evanescence
What never was to result in a bad bite.
Now my hands are inspired
to naturally write
For the seas stories had conspired
To paint in black ink
Giving a talent with passion
So there's no way for them to sink
But to float like jellies
With pink flopping bellies
Giving them a sensual attraction
Almost like ballerinas in a stage
That dance with grace
To the seas gravity with no name or age
Love how well they rhythm in same pace
It's all now coming to me....
And I can see and do I proudly see
In a sweet art masterpiece
That I made it be...
I want to feel it's dew
It's meadow harmony that arches in peace
In the profound beauty of it's blue
The skill I carried and always knew
Was never far from me
I had to get prompted starting at new
Hey you got this don't worry
Now get on and write your story....
Dear Father Abraham,
I Know that Too Much Time has Past, Events Taken, and Choices Made that Forever Changed the Course of History.
I am a Son Not by Birth, but by Adoption, You See I Follow the Teachings of Your Son Yeshua.
A Man Who Came Long Ago, Was Crucified on a Tree between Two Criminals, and was Raised the Third Day, Which Made My Acceptance Possible.
Father I Only ask Now, for without You, I would be destined for an Eternity Separated from God.
The Old Writings State that On That Day You Had Three Visitors, One Whom Resembled The Son of Man, or God Himself.
They Brought Good News that Sarah who had been Barren Till Now Would One Day Have A Son, and You An Heir to Carry On Your Family Name.
Time Passed, and You Both Growing Older with No Fulfillment of the Promise in Sight.
A Choice Was Made to use Hagar as the Possible Vessel for its Fulfillment.
The Result a Beautiful Baby Boy Named Ishmael, Who Grew to be a Wise and Strong Young Man.
All Was Well Till The Fulfillment of Time had Come, and God’s Promise To You and Sarah resulted in a Child also, Who Would be Called Isaac.
Now there exists Two Sons of Abraham, One of Hagar, and the Other Of Sarah, but Both Are Your Seed.
Father Abraham thousands of Years have Passed Now, Since Those Moments In Time, And Much Blood Spilt Pondering the Question Which One is The Rightful Heir?
For Two Great Multitude of People(s) Resulted from Those Choices Made. The Sons Of Ishmael Became the Muslim Race, and the Sons of Isaac Would Become The Israeli or Hebrew.
I Know that as a Gentile I Have No Right to ask, but It was on My Mind.
Looking Back at the Wars Fought, Blood Spilt, Lives Lost, and Time Spent, Between the Descendants of Your Two Sons.
If You Could Go Back, and make Different Choices, Would You?
Is there Any Way To Bridge the Divide?
There are No Easy Answers, Only More Questions.
I Don’t Know if it is Even My Place To Attempt to ask the Question at a Possible Way Forward?
I Only know From the Outside Looking in, that They Are Both Your Sons, and I a Gentile, don’t Know all the issues, or May Never Completely Understand them, or Have Any Possible Answers.
Father I Wonder What Do You Think?
Sincerely,
A Confused Gentile
Author Paul Cumberbatch (July 30, 2020)
Manila folder,
Growing older,
Lying on table,
Watching other files,
Grow bolder,
It was earlier looked upon,
Now ignored,
As if it was dead,
After a bloody gore,
They had submerged in its custody,
A lot many papers and notes,
Carrying dates and events,
About people and of people,
Some body took a decision,
And others left them for future,
It needed for a full view,
Lot of sutures,
Perplexed and seeing its capacity,
They had simply affixed a label,
And left it at storage level,
Years went by in vain,
Lot others joined it in graveyard,
Not for short but pretty long,
Saying has it that every dog has its day,
It so happened that while the manila folder lay gathering dust,
One of the persons not decided upon with in the manila,
Had grown in stature and length,
Either through effort ,luck,relation or lust,
He had reached where he was,
He beckoned all signatures in the manila,
And sought his dues,
If it was not forthcoming,
Then he waved a thick stick,
All signatures rushed to look for manila,
They raised dust and dusted files for long,
Opportunist men got their way,
And having found manila,
Gave a full blooded bay,
As they chuckled in delight,
The 'big man' came around for another fight,
Now they were scared to no end,
And turned the pages of manila,
They frantically looked,
Where they had signed and not,
Where they did not they did,
And some places where they had,
Got it erased,
Manila was theirs,
So what if 'money' was his,
Finally manila was in demand,
And used and gored,
Like a happy whore,
Manila looked askance,
At the door to graveyard,
Where it had spent years in exile,
Before getting this 'exciting while',
Then to top it all,
The Manila had its final big ball,
The day came,
When the big man came to undo his last fall,
He held the Manila lovingly in his palms,
Which were wet and warm,
In anticipation of lot of money caused calm,
His greedy and beady eyes,
Warmed each curve of manila,
As manila coyly smiled unabashedly smiles vanilla,
The swarthy and mean big man,
Saw his words,
Understood them well,
Kept them digested in mind,
Looked disdainfully,
At frightened signatures,
And voila! Tossed the manila folder,
From where he stood,
Back in graveyard to grow older.
Isn't it funny how much things change
Isn't it funny how much we crave the things
that never turn out right
like how for 11 years
we crave growing older, growing up
to finally realizing
there's these sets of rules and stupid handbooks
we have to read and follow
read and obey
How did they conceal it so well from us
internet videos and tv screens?
Good to know...
But one thing I've known to never change
no matter how combative I became
no matter how many tempers flared and we became unaware
no matter how the passing of time
kept us further and further apart
Juliet, I've always had you at my side
Juliet, You were always the one to pick me up
Juliet, somehow you always found a way
to see something better in me
when all I saw in my self were battle scars
and a pile of dust
Juliet, Juliet
how do you do it
stay so cheerful and optimistic
Juliet, Juliet
how do you smile so often and say it's okay
I'm just the lover
I guess I'll never understand
just doomed to wonder
Juliet, Juliet
We have said Forever and Always
Always and Forever
I'm never taking it back
but Juliet, Juliet
I don't know if I'll ever say it
when your hands are within mine
but Juliet, Juliet
I can't promise anything
or leave anything behind
I'm behind schedule in my plans
and what I hoped to accomplished
I've been stuck in a rut
since the last time
I said, 'Hey I'm on my way'
Juliet, Juliet
I'm tangled up in you
and my eyes speak to you everyday
that I love you
No matter what
it will never change or fade
just promise me, promise me
in acoustics or in a calm gentle tone
say that you feel the same
I don't know what I'm trying to say
guess I'm swept up in the emotion
of hitting rock bottom again
for I remember everytime
you force a laugh from my voice
force a smile upon my lips
and then I turn out fine for awhile
until your face disappears from my gaze
then square one comes back to be my home
Oh well, it happens
well only to me...
anyway I just wanted to say thank you
for always staying with me
for always just being you
for always looking as gorgeous as you do
I don't know...I don't know
but these words know it for me
Thank you
Always and Forever
Forever and Always
I’m just a little caterpillar
That’s all I’ll ever be
Sometimes I like to dream
That I could be a bee
What a joy it would be
To fly higher than a tower
Or when I’m feeling lazy
Settle down on a yellow flower
BUT I’m not
Im just a little caterpillar
That’s all I’ll ever be
Sometimes I wish I could be a …..
Magnificent Cheetah!
Sprinting through the savannah
At 75 miles per hour
A blur of tan and black spots
It’s like a super power!
BUT I’m not
Im just a little caterpillar
That’s all I’ll ever be
Sometimes I like to imagine
That I could be a dragon
Living on a cloud
Breathing fire through the night
High above the ground
That would be a sight
BUT I’m not
Im just a little caterpillar
That’s all I’ll ever be
OWWWW!!!! A sharp pain inside
I think I’m going to go and hide
Building a barrier between me and the world
Now the pain has turned into an ache
I’ve got to finish
Before my heart breaks
I’m all alone and on my own
Trapped inside this little space
With no one to see my fear.
Wishing I could feel your warm embrace
You left me deserted
With my faith slowly dwindling down.
No one to boost me up
No one to help me be found
Darkness is all I see
My tears is all I feel
My sobbing is all I hear
“Grandma” is all I can squeal
Every minute I’m growing older.
Every second becoming more claustrophobic.
But, no one’s around me
No one will notice
Panic hits me all of the sudden.
What if I can’t escape?
I’ll be trapped all by myself
Like an isolated ape
Then I remember your favorite song
A Child's Prayer, Oh how you used to sing
You used to always tell me
“Pray, and God will help you with anything”
I kneel down on my knees
And begin to pray
“Please, help me with the pain
Help me get out of here today.”
I raise my head and look up
Something is twinkling up above
Light!!! There’s a crack in the wall
With all my force I give it a shove
I'm free!!!!
Them I realize something strange
I can’t even believe what I see.
I’ve changed…
I’m just a little caterpillar
But, that’s not what I’ll always be
Because now I’m a beautiful butterfly
Much better than a bee.
We will read like our lives depended on it
Because to many of us, we assumed it did
And then we will pass, or fail or sit on the fence
Regardless, we will graduate
What happens next?
We'll trudge home, the bitter sweetness of it all clawing at our hearts
Many of us will jump or scream or cry or all of the above
And it will take a while before we finish the next phase of education
It will take a while before we sort ourselves out
There will be loud times
Times of lively bodies, with tranquillity only being a distant memory
Times of 9 to 5s creating a storm in our minds to match our bodies
And we may not be able to explain
Explain the storms we feel
We will claw at our hearts and heads
Trying to rearrange the pieces
Trying to make it all make sense
And it will take a long time
At many points we may feel we finally got it
The job, the house, the dreams
But that is when we will realize we are changing
When we begin to speak a little louder and walk a little prouder
We may not initially understand just how fast we are growing
Until the world falls silent
And we are left at peace with ourselves, God
And whatever rags we dragged along the way
Until we begin to accept the things we used to run away from
And reject those we held so close
We will have many bandages and scars
Making us look like we are newly wounded
When in reality, our wounds are just beginning to heal
Until we are not afraid to fall short
Just as much as we are not afraid to succeed
Accepting every part and fibre or our being
That we were once told to despise or be ashamed of
Until we gradually fall into the grace of growing older
When we try to piece our lives together like a giant puzzle
Reminiscing the good and the bad
Rehearsing the tales we will tell our children and grand children
Until many many years later, our bodies sink into the ground
Just the same way so many more will
And all that is left is the shadow of the life we lived
And the invaluable footsteps we left in the sands of time
That's when everything will all make sense
The beginning, the journey, the destination
In front of the mirror I stand, staring at my reflection. I have changed so much over the last few years. My face had smoothed out and most of my wrinkles had disappeared.
It seems like it was only yesterday that I awoke to the sound of soil being removed; then the feeling of being hoisted into the air and then a journey to somewhere.
Once there I could hear singing and then someone droning on. The lid of my coffin was lifted and light flooded in. One after another the faces of my loved ones passed by staring down on me. I wanted to hug them, but not yet for I could not as yet move. That would come a bit later.
More journeys and more stops until I found myself in a hospital bed. It was there, surrounded by all my loved ones, that with a sudden gasp that I took my first breath and life slowly entered me.
My thoughts returned to the present. I had so much life to look forward to. In only a few years will be my wedding and then I will be a single woman.
A delicious thought crossed my mind. There were so many boys and dating to look forward to. Once I reached my teenage years there will be the innocent fumbles and that first kiss.
There is also childhood and all the games that involves. Falling out of a tree and learning to ride a bike. Then when I get young enough learning to walk, there is so much excitement to look forward to in my future.
My eyes come back to me in the mirror and a crazy thought crosses my mind. What if that me lived in a world where time went in reverse. What if in that world you were born out of the womb and grew older.
What if you came out of your mother and you were a baby growing older and eventually you became old and went to the grave, to stay there forever.
I shook my head, what a crazy, idiotic, fanciful notion. Everyone knows that you are formed from the dust and come out of the grave. You grow young and eventually you go into your mother’s womb to reduce to nothingness. To return to … no-one knows.
With a slight chuckle I left the other me, the one in the mirror. Yet I admit, I do wonder what she might have been thinking as she looked at me.
smiling with so much love
he kissed her gently
on the lips
holding her
in his arms
as he was leaving
blowing her a kiss
promising to return shortly
jumping on the white horse
smiling waved to her
heading across the sea
to the land
of his birth
soon the white mares hooves
touched upon Irish soil
Oisin began to see
how much the land
with everything around
it had changed
all his family
also his friends
had passed away
no longer was there
a grand castle
instead it was completely
covered in ivy
almost in ruins
he was so caught up
in his emotion
with heavy feelings
of grief deep down inside
he forgot to care
for the beautiful white horse
in spite of her hunger and fatigue
she continued to respond
to her riders request
with a sad and lead heavy heart
he turned towards the sea
to head back to his love
in Tir Na Nog
as he was approaching
the sea
he came across
a group of men
working in the fields
as the mare reached the group
in her fatigue
she began to stumbling
clipping her hooves of a stone
he bent down
to pick up a rock
planning to take it with him
to Tir Na Nog
as a keepsake
full sure it would help ease his sadness
taking a little piece
of his homeland
back with him
but as his hand
grasped the stone
loosing his balance
falling to the ground
within moments
he began aging 300 years
without her rider
the horse reared
on her two front legs
rushed towards the ocean
returning to Tir Na Nog
to her beloved Niamh
as the men in the fields
they witnessed this
their eyes wide with amazement
at first they saw
a young man
before their eyes
transforming growing older
they also saw
an old plow horse
changing as it neared the sea
into the most beautiful
silver white mare
that they had ever seen
as the came men walked across
to Oisin's aid
they carried this
a feeble white haired old man
to St Patrick
when Oisin met St Patrick
he began telling him
about his family and his Fianna friends
whom had disappeared
300 years before
Meg often told Josh
to try to be less reckless
but Josh had panache
when dealing with dangerous
too often being feckless
since days of sixth grade
their hands often intertwined
Meg and Josh displayed
how their main wants were aligned
though to harm Josh was purblind
Meg off to college
while Josh acquired war knowledge
strife without stoppage
where fears must be acknowledged
sympathy soon abolished
is no safe return
for what's lost along the way
only time to burn
no matter what others say
may come no brighter new day
when Twin Towers fell
Josh had rushed off to enlist
Meg's life went to hell
Josh’s words now like a hard fist
boy she'd known didn't exist
the world keeps turning
no matter how hard we pray
or strength of yearning
for that which was yesterday
tomorrow can be stone gray
forward observer
to Afghanistan he's sent
his own preserver
living in wind torn pup tent
letters described his descent
first months Meg worried
next mission Josh would be dead
their future buried
Josh's letters fill her with dread
terror lies in what's now read
tis time which smolders
forever change is churning
both growing older
with each thing Meg is learning
worry won't stop time burning
hold tight to your soul
into the void it may go
longing digs deep holes
upsetting the status quo
mixing up who's friend and foe
tick-tock does not stop
until tense mainsprings unwind
now their ball shall drop
just before ties will them bind
leaving little peace of mind
what scares Meg most
not if Josh is still alive
with return now close
Meg's uncertain she'll survive
what's become a nosedive
measuring last breathes
some things become worse than death
stolen by time's thieves
what we still want to believe
before we can start to grieve
dreading Josh's return
Meg would now prefer to hide
only time to burn
their fate's unwilling new bride
now caught on the same strange ride
only time to burn
while human emotions churn
withal yet we yearn
our ought-to-bes make downturns
changes cannot be returned
I can do a lot of things and do them well, always have.
This what I have been asked I fear I cannot do . . .
What’s more important in this is how I no longer wish to.
I can do many things and do them well, always have.
These are my feelings and they run deeply across my soul.
Woe to me I say because I know its over and drawing near.
There lies before me a future full of agony of longing unrelenting.
I can do many things and do them well, always have.
There is one thing left for me to do and I cannot.
Will I continue on I have been asked,
Continue going I’m asked and I cannot do it anymore!
I can’t keep going for much longer, if at all . . .
How long am I supposed to go without hope, without anything at all . . ?
I can do many things and do them well, always have.
This what I have been asked to do I cannot do . . .
Will you understand when I’m gone and I know you wouldn’t
For the blame you would place across your shoulders and why . ?
It’s my life, this is my life and that’s the joke . . right?
Yeah, as if this is living, as if this is even a pale reflection of life at all!!
I don’t want this life anymore, I’m sick of it . . .
No more do I pray for happiness that will never come,
Instead I pray to close my eyes and never awaken again.
I can do many things and do them well, always have.
Please God spare me from growing older, from living at all,
Please take my soul for I am done with this life without . . .
Just let me sleep forever, for there is nothing left for me . . .
Life is empty, meaningless, hollow and all faded away,
There is no colour left in my eyes anymore, ever again!
Just agony, just agony . . .
God won’t give me this prayer I know, instead
God will grant me an eternity of suffering,
For she’s never done anything to answer my prayers before.
Save fill my life with pain, suffering
And horrible oceans of misery that I drown in every waking moment of this . . .
I can do many things and do them well, always have.
I cannot live without . . . I just can’t . . . I . . .