age

Old Man

The driver at the traffic light is waiting for a change.

The new kid on the block is feeling kind of strange.

The sacrificial lamb still doesn't know its fate.

   An old man sits thinking he's probably too late.


The clock in the hallway struggles to keep time.

The poet in his study is searching for a rhyme.

The oak tree in the meadow is reaching for the sun.

   An old man now ponders and thinks his race is run.


The blackbird on the fence is happy just to sing.

The goldfish in the bowl knows barely anything.

The youth who once was lost has somehow found his way.

   An old man sits alone, with nothing left to say.


The jury can't decide what verdict it should reach.

The speaker is confused as he bumbles with his speech.

The king has lost his crown, and thinks of what he had.

   An old man remembers when he was once a lad.


Copyright © Robert Haigh 2015




 

View silver_birch's Full Portfolio

Memories of Love Lost

When I was older, I buried my friend.

When I was older, I had to pretend.

When I was older, I thought about the end.

 

When we were young, songs were sung!

When we were young, we ran from bees that stung!

When we were young, we played on swings and swung!

 

When I was older, I had to change. 

When I was older, life became strange.

When I was older, love was unrequited.


When we were young, was when love was first invited

 

Now I’m old, and wishing I were young. But you’re gone, my soul is sold, and my heart is now wrung.

 

 

 

 

View riadrababeh's Full Portfolio

Fourty

Forty years and what do I have to show? 

A whole lot of heartache, 

Too many dreams I let go. 

A lot of tears I've cried, 

Feelings of worthlessness, 

A lot of hope that's died.

Bad poetry written late at night, 

Long after I should be asleep, 

I'm kept awake by this eternal fight. 

Feelings of pity and sorrow. 

Wondering if I will ever be good enough, 

Hoping for a happy tomorrow

Fourty years  with nothing to show. 

What next? 

I just don't know. 

I guess I should try to right all I've done wrong, 

Throw my depression right out the door, 

Before another 40 years is gone. 

Cause when my time is up, only my memory will be left behind. 

I don't want to be forgotten

The hands of time don't have a rewind

Fourty years, I've wasted now. 

What do I have to give the world? 

Bad poetry, a few broken dreams,

I must move on somehow. 

Throw all my pity out the door 

Live the dreams that still remain. 

Smile and pray for Fourty more. 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Growing up is optional  but growing old is mandatory 

View chandaburton's Full Portfolio
tags:

Brash

Folder: 
Personal

"This is it,

the last time.

Not my last time,

for there will be many more,

 

but before I go,

take a second.

Or two.

As though leaving a humble abode

 

for the last time.

Or realistically,

one to be proud of,

one no need for humility.

 

A tendency to be crass, 

the one-stop coffeeshop 

that was the first building

foot stepped in,

 

the exact final destination

of a journey

across from

one Ocean to the next.

 

First impressions,

wild differences between

vernacular and tone,

'shaka brah', 

 

and an immediate inquiry

as to where the hell

I come from.

Brash,

 

but immediately warm

the very first contact

turned out to be,

only to observe

 

more than a year of stumbles,

pieces scribbled,

baristas in and out,

one to be a brother

 

calling this location

headquarters,

locomotives blaring by

in a flash of red

 

everyday.

Bicentennial

the count not of years,

but of poetic conveyance,

 

written in the soft glow

of this shop,

this shop the subject

times so often giving

 

detail to who,

what, where,

and how that one girl,

that one time,

 

smelt as she walked by.

Edited,

the time spent 

since the Spring,

 

but some things never change,

and that's how at home

I feel in this booth.

Bottoms up,

 

here's to you,

one last brew,

one last time. 

No more lines

 

to be written

here,

skate to the next place,

though it won't be the same."

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Home, closed down... I'll be wandering around town on a longboard for awhile. Two books written here at Brash Coffee, the local coffee shop I walked in the first hour of being in Chattanooga.

 

Cheers, Brash.

An Ode to Ages Ahead

With falsity and neglictory,
With lies and efiface,
With hope begone a truth,
Thy soul bounded  multiude.

Begone a hopeless dreams.
Beyond  a place unseen.
An  abyss of solitude,
Ages of things begone.

Beyond a mighty shield,
A pile moves/grows,
Not Delay  taint unclean,
Ever  vigilant of change.

An act  that lies,
Can only be ugly,
A move made already,
Cannot be taken back.

We see  an illusion.
They show a mirage.
A move already made,
And they keep it so.

Rebel Rebel hopeless soul.
Fight, Fight lest unfilled,
Through thy Red blood,
Keep the fight  alive.

Thy hand hold another,
lest be bad end.
A fight continue definite,
A fight won Indefinite.

A world unseen granted,
For those beyond grasp,
A rising sun uncovers,
For they deserve it.

And it all started,
With a single phrase,
"Let it be so."
Will it be though?

- Eventim

Author's Notes/Comments: 

With falsity and neglictory,
With lies and efiface,
With hope begone a truth,
Thy soul bounded  multiude.

Begone a hopeless dreams.
Beyond  a place unseen.
An  abyss of solitude,
Ages of things begone.

Beyond a mighty shield,
A pile moves/grows,
Not Delay  taint unclean,
Ever  vigilant of change.

An act  that lies,
Can only be ugly,
A move made already,
Cannot be taken back.

We see  an illusion.
They show a mirage.
A move already made,
And they keep it so.

Rebel Rebel hopeless soul.
Fight, Fight lest unfilled,
Through thy Red blood,
Keep the fight  alive.

Thy hand hold another,
lest be bad end.
A fight continue definite,
A fight won Indefinite.

A world unseen granted,
For those beyond grasp,
A rising sun uncovers,
For they deserve it.

And it all started,
With a single phrase,
"Let it be so."
Will it be though?

- Eventim

View hegapm's Full Portfolio

Age

I don't believe I'm as old as I am

Inside im just a little kid wishing I was sixteen I wish It would of been a better sweet dream

Growing older each day is to me it seems

The saddest realization of this sinking ship

View ashnand's Full Portfolio

I Wish I Could Stop Myself From Getting Any older

I wish I just could

Stop myself from

Getting any older.

 

Remeber when my dad

Would push me off 

So I could ride

My bike.

 

Or when my mom

Would show me

How to read on those 

Warm summer nights

 

And all the roads

We traveled down

To see the things

I dreamed about

 

Oh I wish just could

Stop myself from

Getting any older.

 

One day I could find a

Love and we could

Start it over

 

And maybe we could

See are selves

When we were that much young.

 

And I know just can't

Stop myself from

Getting any older

 

View matthew's Full Portfolio

Growing Up

Reminiscing about the past,

How it tends to last,

The memories of our days,

Spent living them away.

View reminiscent's Full Portfolio

Golden Age

Folder: 
Lovespeak

Fire is dancing

Gems are shining

Stars are falling down

Something's coming out

 

Dark road against my path

Light is shining bright

Can't ignore these signs

Should show them what I got

 

Shooting to number one

Breaking bars, having fun

Sleeping on the cloud nine

Seeking words that would rhyme

 

This is the Golden Age

I'm on the Utmost Sky

This is the Peak of Time

I'm on the Perfect Chase

 

Taking break on heartbreaks

Flying high from lakes to seas

Writing lines from tears to bliss

Bleed hard and celebrate

 

Never saw this coming

It left my soul singing

I never knew I could reach

The skydreams I once wished

 
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