Long Retirement Poems
Long Retirement Poems. Below are the most popular long Retirement by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Retirement poems by poem length and keyword.
It's another Saturday night
ending this week
as started
alone again.
I came here
almost two years ago
to my retirement hermitage
but oddly,
and often uncomfortably,
shared with my hurt kids,
mental and physical illness
adopted and then adapted;
an asylum for the perpetually incontinent.
Cars pass by.
Sometimes a loud motorcycle
or two or three or four
or even more
here on the southern boundary
of a county seat
in a State
where rural counties
have been disenfranchised
of political purpose.
Our largest employers
are two tribally owned casinos.
One across the Thames River
flowing past our backyard retreat.
Our second largest income producer
may be the County Courthouse
where attorneys and police
collude to extort voluntary donations
from poor young adults
red and yellow,
black and white,
guilty of speeding
and texting
and smoking medicine
without a license
in Great White Father's sight.
I have been listening and watching
for what this half acre is.
We are not as rural as I had hoped,
with State highway 12 too near my front yard,
but this place is also not urban
or suburban.
What it is not,
whom we are not,
seems more clearly articulated
than any positive definition,
refining our becoming quiet place,
alone together,
shunned by healthier neighbors.
It's another lonely ending
anticipating yet another not new beginning
tomorrows stretching out alone
long retiring shadows
on this southern edge
of a Connecticut County Seat
without apparent purpose
or co-defining meaning.
Carpooling in the Monday traffic jam
Pondering what we are and who I am
Now that we finally raised a family
Is there anything left just for you and me
Seems each week is just like the one before
So what have we both been working for
Too many years lost daily nine to five
Making ends meet, but barely feeling alive
Wanna find some island Shangri-La
A tranquil sunny spot with no hoopla
Some place lost we could easily hide
That can't be found in a tourist guide
(Chorus)
Bamboo torches and starry skies
Would be mirrored in your big brown eyes.
We'd dance away each endless night;
Lost in love with no dawn in sight.
We could forget all about the noisy mobs,
Boomerang children and annoying jobs,
And go online, book a one-way flight--
Escape while we can out into the night
Gotta find that tropical getaway
Somewhere unspoiled where the locals play
With fishing boats, seabirds & mango trees,
And spicy hot scents carried on the breeze
Bamboo torches and starry skies
Would be mirrored in your big brown eyes.
We'd dance away each endless night;
Lost in love with no dawn in sight.
Gotta find that tropical paradise
Where nights are warm and folks are nice
Where green birds sing exotic melodies
While monkeys play high in coconut trees
I wanna hold you close on an empty beach
'neath a crystal full moon just out of reach
We could sneak out behind a big sand dune
And celebrate another honeymoon.
Bamboo torches and starry skies
Would be mirrored in your big brown eyes.
We'd dance away each endless night;
Lost in love with no dawn in sight.
“Birth day” is the actual day one exits from the womb, (thereafter, “birthday”, is but a colloquialism for the anniversary of that birth). Well … today is mine. I’m finally old enough to drive … (times 4.56!). Now, I’m old enough to vote … (times 3.476!). One of my sons, too, this month, will become a half-century old … which makes me realize: I’m older’n dirt!
It is truly amazing: Once you reach this age, it really, truly is incomprehensible that so many years have passed since taking that first breath – because our minds don’t allow us to think we’re “aged”! Our thoughts tell us we can still lift that couch … or a 100 lb. sack of seed … or a box of twenty books. But … the actual attempt proves our minds still have their roots in the concrete of yesteryear, while our bodies are entrenched in the reality of … today, (that’s easily confirmed by a quick glance in a mirror!) Contrary to popular belief … we are NOT as “young as we feel” … and to defy reality by allowing our minds to trump our body’s limitations, when it comes to physical exertion, is courting a hospital stay – or worse.
For those of us whose physical attributes have waned, we have great difficulty in accepting the fact that we now are relegated to the task of “watching”, not “doing”. That’s the final hurdle we, of necessity, must overcome before we can truly accept … aging. Our children, whom we used to tell and guide in what they could/should do, and when … have now matured. We’ve taught them as best we could, and it is now their turn to drive the carriage – and, if we’re lucky, and don’t try to “boss” them, we may be asked to become passengers.
There comes a time when our day in the sun becomes a rocking chair in the twilight. We need to prepare ourselves to recognize that change of circumstance and situation.
It’ll be difficult for some of us … because WE’VE always been the one “in charge”. If we are to survive with our dignity intact and retain relationships with those we love … we have to find a way to hand over the reins – and MEAN it – to the next generation which we ourselves have spawned.
Our remaining decisions will be: Whether or not to re-bait that fishing hook … or what channel to watch … any decision more meaningful will need to be made by … our kids.
By our village home perched on a green plateau low
a sparkling brook meandered like a garland to flow.
On its waters paper boats I at five sailed with glee
to distant dreamland configured in my infant fantasy.
At fifteen and in teens to study seriously I was told,
for that shaped what the future for me would hold.
Between study and play I carefully divided time spell.
My strategy worked for in the exams I did fairly well.
At thirty to curve the tough career course I was busy,
in the competitive world that for me was not easy.
The onus of raising the family I also needed to face.
I felt happy that this I could do well by God’s grace.
At fifty when I was scaling career’s challenging height
the coming retirement days loomed large in my sight.
With the children settled and gone on their own ways
I planned well for me and my wife to meet those days.
At seventy I felt I was walking on the last mile track,
but with the life spent I was contended looking back.
I thanked God for gifting me new days’ sunrise to see,
pondered when the fated end would come to take me.
Almost every day- all these years
It was so rare that I missed your morning figure
I’m so grateful to have you in here
In my school, in my heart, in my life sphere
Not from a book but from the heart
A great teacher always starts
And here I am, cheering hard
Without a doubt, you made that mark
The Moon; doing her duties for millions of years
At dusk, her caring eyes seek for all daylight winners
Last night her sacred dew, touched the soft cheeks of flowers
Gave them courage to bloom and smile, to whisper the spells “A world of better”
One flower changed a broken man
Another cared for some little lads
Her tears dropped onto the next day champs
Here’s the story I saw in your years of clash!
2018- A year of mixed emotions:
Where the happiness of becoming a US resident,
Was soon subsided by parting ways with a special friend.
Where making preps for Mom's retirement,
Was soon overshadowed by sad demise of the most loved aunt
A year when I tasted failures till-
I became comfortable with the idea of failure,
Till I realized what I saw as failures,
Were still success to someone's eyes and ears
A year where my marriage yet again failed many times,
But when times were testing, I realized it was still as pleasing as wind chimes.
A year which made me a little less judgmental,
and come a step closer to perspective acceptance.
A year when learning and career looked like slipping sand,
with me finally making a choice to return back and be embraced by my old working land.
A year when I read myself a lot closer,
Jumped over my ego more than anytime before,
to enjoy the comfort of people whom I had left behind somewhere on the shore,
While I was busy surfing over the ocean waves,
And had forgotten the support system that always saves.
A year that gave me courage to reach out to people I once hated from the core,
And discover friendships I no more can ignore.
A year that yet again assured that no matter how bad I become,
It was always Mom, Dad and my 2 sisters to whom I mattered,
Where I was forgiven more than I deserved,
With only them ever paying any heed-
To whatl I feel,
To what I believe,
To my shattered dreams,
To my mood extremes.
A year where I realized how family if stood together,
Could make every single smile outshine a tear.
That together we could overcome the worst of our fear,
And together we're ready to whole-heartedly welcome yet another New Year…
2019 this time which is just near !
--- Jagjot Kaur, Signing off 2018
Today is the first day of the rest of our lives
No matter how much time we have left
A sobering thought as we reach our golden years
Our number could be up tomorrow, next week, next year
So we must enjoy life to the fullest, make every day count
We don't get to go around twice
When we're young whipper snappers
Old age is eons into the future
Our main concern is dealing with everyday life
With all of it's ups and downs, it's uncertainties
With romance, with choosing a vocation
But when all is said and done and we near retirement
It's all water under the bridge
So what I'm saying to all you young folks
Live your life to the fullest
Make every single day count as if it was your last
Tell your loved ones every day how much they mean to you
In case you don't get another chance
Life's a hoot...
enjoy it!
His back pain never ceases
since the crash,
when the other driver
failed to see the red light.
The active and early retirement
he enjoyed for thirty years
changed in a moment,
as if someone pressed the “stop” button.
He now spends his days in a favorite chair
looking out the front door
at a narrow view of the neighborhood,
like a wounded race horse in a stall.
The TV is never on during the day
and no radio can be seen nearby,
as he finds comfort in the only place
that conforms to his malformed spine.
I’ve known him for five years
and visit him periodically,
because he seems to enjoy company.
He’s full of stories
that frequently repeat themselves,
while I listen as if they’re new—
good one’s worth relishing again
on a lazy afternoon.
I lift his spirits by being there
and seek no recompense.
To see him smile
and hear an occasional laugh
is my reward.
He is a friend,
albeit limited due to circumstances,
and I’ll miss him,
as time takes its toll
and strength recedes
in increments too small to measure.
He drank too much at parties
And his antics roused the crowd.
His pitching arm was famous
And a strikeout made him proud.
He worked too many hours
Selling kids’ and ladies’ shoes;
Then he watched a game on Sunday
When one beer would make him snooze.
When waking him, you had to poke
Then jump out of the way;
In sleep, he was in World War II,
With enemies at bay.
The slightest thing would make him gag –
From blood down to a worm.
A baby spitting up would be
Enough to make him squirm.
He hated being late and so
Was early as could be.
I smile at this, for just as well,
This is describing me.
Apologies were not his thing
But if he’d blown his stack,
A visit to my room to chat
Would get us back on track.
He dreamed of his retirement
In Florida some day,
Convinced he’d win the lottery
He so much loved to play.
My father was a funny guy.
He’s thirty-two years gone;
But in my heart, his handsome face
Forever will smile on.
for Richard Tarr's contest
We dump waste
To recycle, remade or reuse
But we hide our feelings deep in the heart
Never mean for recycling
Happiness to be appreciated, to be remembered
And sadness to be discarded
Or to be transformed into an experience or a lesson
We keep our knowledge in mind
Never to be polished after retirement
But the world is changing every minute
Some old knowledge have to be
Recycled, improved, reused or discarded
We adopted old habits and beliefs
Without ever dropping them
But old habits and beliefs have to be sieved
Those beneficial and true remain
Recycling will yield experience, new knowledge and truth
Which will indeed lead to a happier life