Funny Poems About Old Age

A collection of funny poems about old age by Paul Curtis, which focus on the physical and mental deterioration associated with the twilight years. The poems are intended to be gently humorous and warmly affectionate, not disrespectful or hurtful. (Just in case the grey panthers turn on Paul and tear him limb from limb)

Don’t Throw Me On The Scrap Heap

Don’t throw me on the scrap heap
Just because I’m old
I still have talent and skills to offer
If I may be so bold
My talent is called multi tasking
Or so I’ve been led to believe
And I can simultaneously wet myself
And laugh, cough, fart and sneeze

The Old Banger

The old banger
Wouldn't start this morning
It wasn't too long after
The day was dawning
I just kept trying
Over and over
But I couldn't
Get her to turn over
Until eventually
With a cough and a fart
I managed to get
The old thing to start
Though not working
On full power
She got out of bed
And went in the shower

Ask A Stupid Question

A local reporter
Asks an old lady at her leisure
“What part of being 104
Gives you most pleasure?”
She simply replied to him
"No peer pressure" 

Over The Hill

As a young man in the full flower of youth
I had more than my fair share of adventures
Now the best I can manage, to tell the truth
Is staring at the glass that holds me dentures

Dead Certain

A senior couple were lying in bed one morning.
Just as a new day was dawning
Having had the most perfect nights sleep
Long, restful, undisturbed and deep

The old gentleman turned to his wife and asked
“Would you like a cup of tea?”
She lay perfectly still in the same position
“NO! Of course I don’t want a cup of tea”

Surprised by her vehemence he asked “Why not?”
She answered, “Because I'm dead”
“What are you talking about? Of course you’re not
What put such a thought in your head?”

“It’s no good you arguing with me about it
I have no doubt at all. I am definitely dead,
And that’s it and all about it, because
I woke up this morning and nothing hurts” she said

Ageing Population

In the future, maybe forty years or so
The nursing homes will just overflow
With sweet little silver haired old biddies
Doting on their numerous little grand kiddies
As they sit peering thru bifocal glasses
With faded tattoos on their wrinkled arses

The Absent Minded Octogenarian

An octogenarian visited his doctor
'I think I'm getting senile” he said
The doctor replied “I don’t think you are senile
Let’s look for a different diagnosis instead”
“But I keep forgetting to do up my fly”
The old man said “After I’ve been for a pee”
The doctor smiled and then replied
“Not opening your fly before you start, that’s senility”

A Timely Reflection

I am feeling my age
Now I’m of the silver haired class
But on the bright side
I’m still on the right side of the grass

What Are They Saying?

For lent you have to give up
Something that you enjoy
Well that gave me a lot more choices
When I was but a boy
Now it’s not quite so easy
I don’t enjoy too much at my age
So I will have to give up being cantankerous
Or just give up road rage

All Poems Copyright © Paul Curtis