Oldest Poems | Examples

Have you fallen into the oldest of traps, before?

Have you fallen into the oldest of traps, before?

(A lone voice whispers)

Be Illuminated.

Don't be like the many and fall into a readers' mindset, and believe everything you read is true.

Be sophisticated and ingenious.

And when reading poetry, be conveniently adventurous.

Don't always think it personally relates to the author:

For that trap is the oldest of the old. 

Going back to poetry's first beginnings.

Poets do sometimes relate their stories to be told, but generally, perhaps:

They're really creating secret escapes.

Imagery, emotions and landscapes, for those seeking shelter.

From the cold, unforgiving, light of just living.

(C)
Copyright John Duffy

The story of the oldest child

:??
The oldest child.
Or the second parent.
The one that everyone relies on, the one who's need to be the model for the youngest siblings.
Who have dreams but soon turned into nightmares. Childhood? No, the oldest child doesn’t really have one, taking care or the youngest siblings were childhood for them. 
Is the one who get blamed one for mistakes that youngest siblings have did, clean the mes from other, doesn't earn the respect they truly deserve.
Need to be successful to make their parents proud, carrying the weight of endless expectations on their shoulders, put on fake smiles too make everyone happy but who makes the oldest child happy?
They live were already written before they even existed and forced to grow with it.
Never heard the words" I am so proud of you" buts words that they were used to hear as"Why couldn't you be more like you cousin/friend)
They try their best, but somehow their best is never enough.


But you may ask" How do you know if all of that is true?"
..well I am an oldest child too, sad right..?

Oldest Daughter

I am the oldest daughter,
But that isn’t just privilege.
I am the oldest daughter,
And I have no more to salvage.
   I am praised for my good behavior,
And it teaches me to be perfect.
Nothing less is acceptable,
No excuse can be my savior.
   I make a single mistake,
And it’s the end of the world,
But really the bar is too high.
I’m sitting in the corner all curled.
   Held in one spot,
But I’m told to get up and walk.
I am asked to speak,
But I open my mouth and am told not to talk.
   I am the oldest daughter,
And I was born imperfect.
Why am I the oldest daughter,
When I can’t do what they expect?
   I wasn’t made to be the best child,
I was made to bring out the best in others.
All that it seems to do,
Is bring more judgment from my mother.
   I can choose to cry,
But they will only give me more reason to.
If I shouldn’t cry or hold it back,
What am I supposed to do?
   After all,
I am the oldest daughter.

Tense Shoulders

So much pressure weighs 


on the shoulders


 of the oldest child.


She tries to hold it


but can’t grip on


and it all falls apart.


The life she wields


No longer can deal


With all the pressure


Of a family of five.

Newest oldest modern quagmire

the merely bourgeois, so-called collective Western world:

dysfunctional political economy, broken system w/ a

population neither able to solve the problem, nor willing to solve it.

Oldest Toy

The world's oldest surviving toy, dating back to the Chalcolithic Period, approximately 7500 years old, is exhibited at the Mardin Museum in Turkey.


the world oldest toy
about seven thousands years
car made of good wood

Oldest Living Treasure

She's the oldest living treasure that the world has ever seen; 
A creator of arts, with her canvas, the human skin. 
Her beauty outshines many younger generations. 
Her charm could be the greatest among all her possessions. 

She's a glimmer of the island of the far east, from the north. 
She's a pleasant scene being craved, of tempting sort. 
May it be someone from the west or the east, 
everyone gladly comes to gather for her feast.  

*For Apo Whang-Od, the oldest living tattoo artist in the world at 106, a living treasure, in celebration of my 500th poem in Soup.* 

April 1, 2023

Cowboys Hands

The Cowboys hands are strong and still as tough as leather but soft enough to touch a humming bird's wings. Always cowboy enough to not show his pain, he's been through every thing.Yet I his mother can feel all his accomplishments and his heart. And knows that he carries God with him everyday.

I Am Sure I Am the Oldest Too

The teacher whispered to me “I am older than you are, I know.”
I smiled at her eagerness, amazed at her honesty and her big blow….
I do not think so, I told her. As a matter of fact, I know you aren’t.
She said “I am sure I am.” Her name was Ms. Marnt.

I said, “I am just as sure that I am the oldest here.”
“I am sixty-two,” she whispered smugly in my ear.
I am pretty sure that 69 trumps sixty-two every time I said.
She was amazed, and her face got enormously red.

What are you still doing teaching? She asked in surprise.
This is my happy place I told her. It helps my brain waves rise.
She smiled at me and gave me a fist pump to the sky.
I gave her a large smile and a joyful wink from my hazel eye.

Oldest Museum In Iraq

Oldest museum was built in Iraq
Built by Babylonian princess – fact.
No one knows her name.
She was just a dame.
If she’d been male, they’d have kept track.

The Oldest Lovers

The Oldest Lovers

To loathe is to commit a passion with
your nightmare, your nemesis, your own Hyde.
To dance the dance of hate, each side by side.
It is then, dear, perhaps the greatest myth
that they are free, the ones who plead the fifth
on the disease that rots away the bride
as she dances with the bane; tears dried
by the punishing winds beyond the cliff.
Hate twirls across the ballroom of our minds;
in his arms is Love, burning lips: white hot.
The devil, O’ he takes the love that binds
and ties with hate, the tragic lover’s knot.
To love or loathe, the other is entwined;
the fateful pair whom tragedy forgot.

The Oldest Tree

The oldest tree is a California gnarled pine
It began growing way back during the pyramids time
It's over 4,000 years old
Had the oldest curse ever told
Those who climbed it were charged with a serious crime

Mother

AMERICAN ICONS

One is known for her hemlines
Just so right
The other for hemlines
Accompanied by no tights
Young ladies with poise
Will always make the right noise
But girls from orphanages
Will marry young, dreaming
Of what their life might become

Life’s rich tapestry was woven
Into a pink chanel suit
Camelot’s princess was american grace
While some like it hot
Di Maggio did not
Another heartache for sugar cane

Vanity Fair with it’s gossip and flair
Adored both ladies to death
Socialite gatherings had reached a peak
Stories abounding of a blonde
In the President’s sheets
Jackie ever stoic
Turned the other cheek

As time goes by
Loyalty and lies are of no surprise 
For each leading lady a private sigh
Mr. Miller privately laughed at the new bride
By his side 
Whilst Jackie cradled her husbands bloody head
She then knew camelot was officially dead
Just like the blonde in her la home 
Who died as she was always alone


Copywright

Oldest Flame

i saw her the other day
once bright and beautiful
now beaten and worn
as if the years and folks
had not been kind
she tried to avoid my eyes
but could not
and we touched hands in an
old familiar way and the same
shock ran up my arm
we withdrew quickly 
and scanned the ground
for nothing there
we stood still in ackward silence
for a moment
with her glancing around nervously
and she looked 
"i've got to go, he'll be looking for me"
i slipped her my number and whispered
"anytime"

The Oldest Trees

As Yggdrasil stretches into heaven
Hyperion watches a new Armageddon
As General Sherman towers above
Methuselah cradles a mourning dove

Old Tjikko refuses to bend
The baobab thwarts the wind
The Tree That Owns Itself
Will never, ever be compelled

The Cedars of God remain
Despite any flood or hurricane

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