Short Middle Age Poems
Short Middle Age Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Middle Age by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Middle Age by length and keyword.
Agentinian Lucio Fontana
had a limited art formula
He became signficant in middle age
his monochromes were all the rage
A bulging belly balefully belies
the vanished vigour of youth;
happens to most of us.
- - - - - - - - - - -
19 November 2018
Middle age woman from Tallahassee
believed she was something very classy.
Finger rings
Brooches, things
But time had warped her hourglass chassy
A stationary front has no movement, slothed humans has no inspired movement.
Middle age humans ignore the duty, everyday has a newlywed duty.
- Loverboi
is that time of life
When you are but torn between
"Why Not?" and "What For?"
"Senryu on your own existence" contest by Marvin Celestial
By Angeline Vine
In the midst of someone's middle age
it was discovered that one a day
could help
Except it really depended on what
one accepted as 'middle age'
A man is an inferno in his youth
But in middle age a
Crisis threatening to engulf him in flames errupts
Do not fear the fire my friend!
You're the eagle and the sky belongs to you
Rainbows of lightning
Amber gold
Topaz sun sighted
Colors glow
Egyptian magic
All I know
Honey-green static
Through window
Middle age mountains
I behold
Blue frigid fountains
In my soul
.
&
if I
had
a penny
for every time
I lost my house keys
...........................................
there'd also be a jar full of coins
that I would have to
search
for
.
I
just
walked
back into
the kitchen
for some juice
and then walked
out with a sandwich,
a glass of milk, sweets
and the TV remote
that I lost when
I last went in
my kitchen
an hour
ago
When we are young, time seem so slow.
"Please, hurry up, I want to grow!"
In middle age, it races by.
"I need more time!" is what we cry.
Now we grow old, it drags again.
"When will I have release from pain?"
Live with wife, Cathie, and our middle age son Scot
Lost triplets with his former wife, both totally distraught
Like a shot to the heart
Depression off the chart
Broke up their marriage, never got over the shock
You Tube fame,
reality
stars who
infamously
infiltrate our youth
and promote
success
for being
nothing
more than shrewd
salespeople
who market one thing:
themselves, anger me ‘cause
I
was born just too soon.
9-29-19
I guess I once was a juvenile delinquent. Then I became an adult delinquent. Now I'm a middle age delinquent. Soon enough I'll be a senior citizen delinquent. When all is said and done and it is all over I'll just become a dead delinquent. Ha Ha.
Was fine when
we were twenty,
bones supple,
and anywhere
was pleasure
as long as we
were together.
But middle-age
has a few rewards,
like this new
king size bed
with my side,
your side,
and high enough up
that bones
don't groan
when we disembark
in the morning.
I am the stereotype of a middle-age lady with grey hair
Working as a preschool teacher
Wearing mumu dresses in bright colors
A Sunday school teacher wanting to make it a full-time job
To whittle myself a new profession
I'm not the brightest crayon in the box
But, I know I can do it!
we could trade tit-for-tat, hurt for hurt
keep fueling the anger flame
or look in our own cracked mirrors
note the middle-age faces
and recognize that by blending our lives
we brought a lot of troubled history together
mercy, forgiveness, grace
ultimately love
is the only memory
worth keeping
Granted I was exhausted,
nothing more than usual.
An innocent toddler staring at me
in a concerning manner, says
“Wow…your eyes are old.”
Laughing uncomfortably, I slightly coughed.
The next fifteen minutes was spent lifting my eyebrows
hoping to smooth my worn, wrinkled forty - two year old eyes.
Strong
Dark
Resilient
Ebony
Towers
Spreading up through history
Budding off new members like leaves
Hoping to make it through seasons
Birth
Adolescence
Middle age
And the cold of winter
With white hair on our heads like snow
Until we fall to the ground
And join our roots
In the ground below
She learnt the art of forgetting
spring bloomed tulips on her lips
cherry ripened to redness on her lips
yet within ,shattered pieces of mirror
fail the young teenage girl.
Where has it gone?
The spring of our youth...
The autumn of middle age rapidly steals away our mobility,
and the harsh winter of old age pounces on us like a cat on a frightened mouse.
We have so few moments on this earth... Like dandelions in an open field,
we sway in the breeze for a few days, and then we are gone.
i was always a batter
in middle-age, i've become a bowler
to my son, who is now a batter
and i find myself being forced to bowl
in this adults-only cricket match
and for the first time,
i am walking back past the umpire
we exchange words
smiles
titters
and this understanding and linkage is new to me.
i feel absolute joy
I'm free but imprisoned
I should be happy but I am not
I laugh but I want to cry
I continue but I want to stop ...
I want to be real, but I keep pretending
I want to go far, but I'm stuck
I do not know if it is me or my middle age that is making me feel this way
broken in half, one part want to live and the other seeks to give up ...
and rest forever
In youth we can do all things. In middle age we can still dream. Seniors can only reminisce.
Date Written: 1/11/2023
8 Place
Now the mid-winter grind
Is on me, New York
Drills through my nerves,
As I walk
The chewed up streets.
At forty-five what next
At every corner,
I meet my father,
My age, still alive.
Father, forgive me
My injuries,
As I forgive
Those I
Have injured!
You never climbed
Mount Zion, yet left
Dinosaur
Death-steps on the crust,
Where I must walk.
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