Adulthood poems center on the themes of change, understanding, confusion, and nostalgia. The following poems explore the concept from a wide array of perspectives. Some explore the changes one comes across being an adult. While some others look back at the past and the speakers nostalgically comment on bygone days. Readers will find these adulthood poems undoubtedly enriching.
‘To My Nine-Year-Old Self’ addresses the poet’s younger self, exploring changes over time, contrasting past fearlessness with present cautiousness.
You must forgive me. Don't look so surprised,
perplexed , and eager to be gone
balancing on your hands or on the tightrope
‘What Now?’ by Gary Soto is a contemporary poem that speaks to the universal experience of aging and learning.
Where did the shooting stars go?
They flit across my childhood sky
vAnd by my teens I no longer looked upward—
My face instead peered through the windshield
In Sheenagh Pugh’s ‘Sweet 18’, an older woman expresses her desire to regain youth as she battles the temptation to take it from others.
You move before me with all the unknown ease
of your age; your face clear of the awareness
that clouds mine. Your only scars; where you tried
to shave, before there was any need.
Larry Levis’s ‘Childhood Ideogram’ unravels the intricacies of identity, memory, and the transience of time through the speaker’s nostalgia.
I lay my head sideways on the desk,
My fingers interlocked under my cheekbones,
My eyes closed. It was a three-room schoolhouse,
White, with a small bell tower, an oak tree
‘At The Border, 1979’ contrasts adult optimism with a child’s realism during a family’s migration, questioning the notion of home.
'It is your last check-in point in this country!'
We grabbed a drink -
soon everything would taste different.
Heaney’s ‘Personal Helicon’ draws inspiration from his rural carefree childhood and intimate connection with nature.
As a child, they could not keep me from wells
And old pumps with buckets and windlasses.
I loved the dark drop, the trapped sky, the smells
’39’ is a poem in which the narrator looks back on his life while eagerly awaiting his fortieth birthday and the years that will follow.
I only woke this morning
To find the world is fair —
I'm going on for forty,
With scarcely one grey hair;
‘Little Red Cap’ by Duffy is a feminist retelling of the classic tale, exploring the empowerment and growth of the little girl.
At childhood’s end, the houses petered out
into playing fields, the factory, allotments
kept, like mistresses, by kneeling married men,
the silent railway line, the hermit’s caravan,
‘The Giving Tree’ by Shel Silverstein explores unconditional love, sacrifice, and the bittersweet journey of giving without expecting anything back.
Once there was a tree....
and she loved a little boy.
And everyday the boy would come
and he would gather her leaves
‘Childhood’ explores the transitory moment when a child becomes aware of the passing of time, and the process of growing old.
I used to think that grown-up people chose
To have stiff backs and wrinkles round their nose,
And veins like small fat snakes on either hand,
On purpose to be grand.
‘Half-Past Two’ utilizes childish vernacular and mismatched capitalization to reflect the stress of a young boy, who in the past was punished for “Something Very Wrong.”
Once upon a schooltime
He did Something Very Wrong
(I forget what it was).
And She said he’d done
Frost’s ‘What Fifty Said’ is a reflection on youth and age’s lessons: learning past and future while creating one’s own identity.
When I was young my teachers were the old.
I gave up fire for form till I was cold.
I suffered like a metal being cast.
I went to school to age to learn the past.
‘To a Daughter Leaving Home’ uses the metaphor of a child learning to ride a bike to beautifully capture a parent’s mixed emotions of pride and fear as they watch their daughter grow up and gain independence.
When I taught you
at eight to ride
a bicycle, loping along
beside you
‘My Son the Man’ explores the reality of parenting and engages with the inevitability of the passage of time.
Suddenly his shoulders get a lot wider,
the way Houdini would expand his body
‘A Dead Rose’ mourns the short-lived nature of beauty, with vivid imagery and poignant emotions.
O Rose! who dares to name thee?
No longer roseate now, nor soft, nor sweet;
But pale, and hard, and dry, as stubble-wheat,—-
Kept seven years in a drawer—-thy titles shame thee.