Depression Old Poems | Examples
These Depression Old poems are examples of Old poems about Depression. These are the best examples of Old Depression poems written by international poets.
We drove from Frisco down to Monterey,
and we didn't have a word to say.
And it wasn't anger in any way.
That emotion stopped long ago coming into play.
So perhaps it was just the decades of the same thing day after day,
or that the skies were dark from bay to bay,
or fear of an end that we could not allay,
or think of any other tired cliché.
We drove from Frisco down to Monterey,
and we didn’t have a word to say.
The old facts lie, the old truth dies
Everything needs update
The new facts open our eyes
Revisionism is great
New lemming-minded must observe
This harsh reality
The world we thouroughly deserve
Our ancestors couldn’t see
So after cleaning it looks fine
This good old brave new world
Its pharisees and philistines
Its glorified absurd
What’s new, looks old, and in reverse
Its all the same, my dear
The truth enacts with inner source
Of deepest secret fear
In order to avoid the bad
Consequences we see
We drink more wine, and eat less bread
Watching the tides at sea.
Talons perched over eyes ~ bedevilment
Red rose to cheek
Poor devil’s
blindfold
Dumb
lips
Searing
rivulet
Old Nick’s migraine
Rusting of love’s chariest memories
11/3/2020
Double Tetractys 5
Sponsor: Eve Roper
Image #2
*chariest - dear, treasured
**Old Nick - the devil
Howmanysyllables used
10, 4, 3, 2, 1, 1, 2, 3, 4, 10
And On Bad Days
David J Walker
What is it with me this morning
My insides seem infected
with my worst fears.
I know it’s in my head
but it feels more in my heart
As I look in the mirror
And see an old man
Whom I no longer recognize
Whose decorations of the past
Are fading and falling from
His chest
I remember when I could run
With the best
And had no fear of the future
That invited me and loved
The beauty of my youth
And now I refused to keep a
Clock or a calendar and have
Canceled the paper and mail
I talk to my friends who are dead
Because they are the only ones who
Understand me
I am trying to remember when it
Was my goal to grow old
During the not-so-Great Depression
FDR practiced self-suppression
'chatting with us' just once a week
During the current pandemic
Press conferences are epidemic
Pols grabbing every microphone to speak
All the friends I knew when I was young
Are old or dead
When the sadness gets stuck in my lung
I stay in bed
I'll lay here the rest of the day
Seen my whole life wasted away
All the friends I knew are old or dead.
I want to sit in my garden,
On my garden swing,
Writing poems,
Maybe learning to sing.
Petting my kitty,
Playing my guitar,
Visit far away places,
Watching shooting stars,
Let my mind take me places,
That I've never seen,
To mountain tops and sea scapes,
That I'll only see in dreams;
Forest glades and hill sides,
Meadows, streams, spend hours,
Dreaming of these places,
As I sit among my flowers.
Instead of being in this dreary place,
Working like a slave,
I want to run and skip and play,
Before I'm in my grave.
I'm glad to have my job, I am,
I'm happy with my station.
I just need to rest sometimes.
I need a short vacation.
“Gotta Be Tough to Be Old”
Written: by Tom Cat
2/25/2014
The clock exacts its toll as I mature,
Life rigors often times draw me down.
Days once held in immense allure,
Find me dispirited, often with frown.
Days have now become compressed,
Nights are long, pain pilfering sleep.
Thoughts with age oft arrive depressed,
Hours of tedium cause time to creep.
Frequently I just need some time of relief,
And thoughts travel hinder into my past.
I quickly discover time has been my thief,
From past to present lie’s much contrast.
December fourteenth only eleven days till christmas
When I was young christmas always seemed so far away
Man I just couldn't wait till christmas
That long awaited christmas day
But Im much older now
christmas comes way to fast
Seems like it was just yesterday
Nothing between now and christmas past
Eleven short days until the longest one
Eleven short days will just fly by
Then comes that day that seems to last forever
Cuz when your alone at christmas time sure don't fly
I ain't old, but I've been told
to give up my car and drivers license
I ain't old, but my vision blurred
got near and far reading, driving glasses
I climb the stairs with both hands
sit on my buttocks to go down
I use a cushion to sit in a chair
Breathe oxygen instead of air
I've decided to live in my house
you already planned to move me out
I ain't old, but I've been told
Take so much medication, I'm constipated
Going backwards instead of forward
Wear adult underwear cause my badder gives
This isn't how the elderly should live
I ain't old, but I've been told
No one helps me they want me to sell my house
Evict everyone and everything even the mouse
I ain't old but I've been told
10/09/18
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr.
My pain,
Hides among,
Beautiful darkness,
Betwixt cracks,
In my smile,
Tears,
Sometimes,
Fill those cracks,
And drown the pain,
For awhile,
My old friend,
I call you,
Out again,
Hoping,
You'll never,
Learn to swim,
In pools,
Of...Silence.
(Vickie Thayer) 2018
Why, does existing have to be
burdensome. My mortal thoughts flee
like rain drumming at my window,
then trickles releasing a dam
leaving me brittle to exam
my own conscious; what do I know.
Surpassing life hopes as I winch
loneliness devours inch by inch.
My lips quake and swell at my low
detaching my dying cinder.
I can't take another winter
confronted with the ebb and flow,
not being able to foresee
mental skills decline as I grow
old and suppose to comfort me.
6/12/2018
Now Too Old And Who The Hell Cares
He was old, too tired and alone
feeling sadness deep in his bones.
Paper cursed, his pen went bad
night was dark, heartbreak was so sad.
Looking back, his life full of scars
few he got fighting in bars.
Now too old and who the hell cares
that a poet's words he now shares?
Dread, that deep dread that dark nights bring
can poet words, speak of such things?
What solace, can memories give
when years are far too few to live?
Ah, but this he still thinks of you
true love found, found both of you two.
Robert J. Lindley, 2-16-2018
Sonnet (In Eight's)( Dark Night Echoes)
I’m looking at this picture of my daughter Ava
someone took three years ago as she was watching me
during the semifinals of our tennis club’s singles championship:
Standing there with her back to the camera,
her little fingers curled around the metal wiring of
a chain link fence, she’s trying to capture my attention
before I hit a kick-serve from the ad-side court;
Intently focused on the task at hand, I bounce the green ball
twice in front of me, toss it slightly behind my center of gravity
into swirling winds three feet above, coil like a spring,
and then, with every ounce of my being, explode upwards
while Ava stands there - still - her wide eyes searching an empty cage.
5/8/2017
Inviting happy thoughts in reverie
Recalling times when family was near
What fun we had while making memories
Those are the moments treasured, oh so dear
Their ringing laughter always makes me smile
To think the silly things we did and said
And even though at times one would get riled
The love we shared when hurtful tears were shed
But then my loneliness will bring me down
My happiness is swallowed up in blue
Old melancholy always comes around
Sad feelings of depression then subdue
I'm thankful for the happy times we had
But when I am alone they leave me sad
September 26 2016