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Sad Grandmother Poems | Sad Poems About Grandmother

These Sad Grandmother poems are examples of Sad poems about Grandmother. These are the best examples of Sad Grandmother poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Free verse | |

GRANDPA

*GRANDMA WAITS IN THE GARDEN*

Hi grandpa it's me again!
Your dentures sit in an open glass
Do you remember the tears grandma sang before she passed?
The way she looked into your eyes, 
Moments before she said her goodbyes
Grandpa, I found a note from grandma, she doesn't want you to cry.

Hi grandpa, it’s me again!
The rocking chair is old and dusty
Do you remember the way grandma sat me on her lap?
Read many stories before I took a nap
How she enjoyed brushing my hair with her hands
Love the way she rocked me to sleep every night until I grew. 

Hello grandpa!
I stored your hearing aid away
Do you remember that special musical box in grandma's drawer? 
I opened it last night, to watch the ballerina dance
I wish you could hear the tiny chimes grandma lived in
I hope you don’t mind, I’m keeping grandmothers favorite scarf.

Hello Grandpa!
I'm caressing grandma’s picture frame
Do you like the way she looked in that pretty sundress?
Grandpa, I miss the things grandmother did for you
I like the walking stick she handcrafted, the day your needed support
It kept you in balance every time we took long hikes in the woods.

Hello grandpa, it's me again! 
Here I sit holding your hand
I have no more tears
Soon you will see grandma
Please tell her hi, and I know you will be there the day I die
Bye, grandpa
Give grandma a kiss, and tell her I miss her

By; PD


Details | Free verse | |

EULOGY FOR THE ELDON GALLERY, WATERLOO


Once a place that sold cultivated pigment, the shop has become a catacomb,
Windows entombed by cardboard boxes, deprived of the merest hint of life and
I wonder if the gallery owner had intended a display of irony or focused rage. 

Gone, the watercolour weeping chartreuse, its soft backdrop of midnight blue,
And the oil on wood with knife strokes applied so thickly, it almost moved, 
Charcoal sketches of thunderstorms hitting the shores of Port Elgin, greys loud. 

Dark now the halls that had sheltered dreamscapes, art of all disciplines and sizes,
Squeezing themselves into corners and elbowing each other for my attention.
I ache for that one perfect dove that called to me from an azure sky, the one who 

knew my name, but I did not have the funds to take him home to my little cage.
He deserved a rectory or a view that would at least provide a kind of sanctuary.
Oh, how his wings had beat against pulse points and one of his feathers tickled

out a memory of a robin that had flown towards a cloudless sky, but instead had 
collided with a picture window; the contact point marred by a red, sickle shaped 
smear, and my grandmother had carefully wrapped the corpse in yesterday’s news.

I had trudged out to the garbage can, unseen, found the poor thing in its shroud, 
Snuck out to the garden and buried it amongst tall phlox and florid snap dragons,
I’d succumbed to tears, wrenched by a world where beauty is fragile and disposable.

Today people walk along the street, wearing blinders, holding devices that fail to
signal that something living and real slowly starved to death, atrophied, and I watch
a happy child point to a puddle, but her mother fails to see the large coin it holds.

I recall a portrait that had enraptured like a sun shower, reminiscent of light and rain, 
A girl traipsing waves, almost overtaken, her footsteps disappearing under foam…
And I silently apologize to those artists unmet, the ones who continue to meet panes. 







*Please click on the About my Poem link to see a picture of what inspired this poem... It has been closed for a while, but today, I walked past it and remembered the lovely art that I had once appreciated, yet was never able to afford. 


Details | Free verse | |

GRANNY

On hearing your death
What creep in my head was
Akon's Pot of Gold
Its melody within heart
You have served your purpose
So Rest in Peace
Born to Love
But it enslaved and betrayed
And onwards you pressed
Your foils nurtured your old age
As strong as you were
Your battle on the thin line
You won hands down
I admire You
Last week I saw and greeted 
You were fit
What an awesome recovery
Indeed your Maker wiped your tears
But now it is finished
Well done
As a kid I run onto your bosom on visits
Then rained on me praises
But I lost contact
Next I saw you on life’s field of war
Then despised, not long
I grew wise to know
For with time all will grow
Was in turn and showered care
Hope you recognized
Thanks for your Blessings
My half seed of lineage
May God lay you to a Peaceful rest
Where Love will search to find you
Your foils cry
Swollen red are our fragile eyes
Thousand thorns within our hearts
Pain abounds here
May your Spirit comfort us
Smile down once again
Smile down once again
Memories well built would be well kept
Strong willed, Religious, Grateful 
Lord we are thankful
Yours forever
A Single Parent's sweat lay to Rest in Peace.

©Kofi Asokwa-Nkansah


Details | Free verse | |

Grandma

There's not much to say.
I knew her, know some things,
but certainly not all.

I know how little she put up with fools,
how her cooking surpassed so many others',
how simultaneously sweet and hard she could be.
I know about her smoking,
about her jewelry, her faith,
all these I'll hold close to me.

Every single spark, every star,
shines with such a glow, such a marvelous radiance,
that we can't gaze too closely at it,
lest we cause ourselves pain.
And yet, despite ourselves, again and again,
we do;
because it's not within us to resist
the sheer beauty of it all,
of stories and of life.

A bouquet of tulips for you.
We all miss you already, Grandma.
I miss you.
I know Heaven's got you, taking no guff as always,
making sure we're all doing alright.
I love you.
Andrew James (McGillicutty) Sprouse


Details | I do not know? | |

The Women



The Women



(for the countless women, names unknown, who bore the brunt of Apartheid, and who fought the racist system at great cost to themselves and their families, and for my mother, Zubeida Moolla)



Pregnant, your husband on the run,
your daughter, a child, a few years old,

they hauled you in, these brutish men,
into the bowels of Apartheid's racist hell.



They wanted information, you gave them nothing,
these savage men, who skin happened to be lighter,

and white was right in South Africa back then,

but, you did not cower, you stood resolute,

you, my mother, faced them down, their power,
their 'racial superiority', their taunts, their threats.



You, my mother, would not, could not break,

You stood firm, you stood tall.

You, like the countless mothers did not break, did not fall.



You told me many things, of the pains, the struggles,

the scraping for scraps, the desolation of separation
from your beloved Tasneem and your beloved Azad,

my elder sister and brother, whom I could not grow
up with, your beloved children separated by time, by place,

by monstrous Apartheid, by brutish men,
whose skin just happened to be lighter.



You told me many things, as I grew older,
of the years in exile, of the winters that grew ever colder.

You were a fighter, for a just cause,
like countless other South African women,

you sacrificed much, you suffered the pangs,
of memories that cut into your bone, your marrow,

you resisted a system, an ideology, brutal and callous and narrow.



Yes, you lived to see freedom arrive, yet you suffered still,
a family torn apart, and struggling to rebuild a life,

all the while, nursing a void, that nothing could ever fill.



I salute you, mother, as I salute the nameless mothers,

the countless sisters, daughters, women of this land,
who fought, sacrificing it all for taking a moral stand.



I salute you, my mother, and though you have passed,
your body interred in your beloved South African soil,

you shall remain, within me, an ever-present reminder,

of the cost of freedom, the struggles, the hunger, the toil.


I salute you!



(for the brave women of South Africa, of all colours,
who fought against racial discrimination and Apartheid)






Details | Light Poetry | |

My dear grandmother

My dear grandmother

One nigth while I was sleeping
I got a sad telephonemessage

I got up fast
The tears just trundled down my cheeks

The message I got was that you had passed away
It happened so incredibly fast

I have cried for several months
All the tears for you
Hope that some of you still are here with me

Now, I have no grandmother to talk with
For your heart stopped
Why was it your turn to let the soul leave your body

Life needs to move on
The dead, they have to be honored
I will never be able to forget you
I let the memories be hidden


                 __
                /_/\/\
                \_\  /
                /_/  \
                \_\/\ \
                    \_\/

Dedicated to my dear grandmother (1935-2011) 


Details | Narrative | |

LISA'S IVORY MUSIC BOX

Many Christmas stories are told every year,
and many songs are sung with pure cheer;
do I have a good story, at least one, I can tell,
or a simple song I can hum and spread good will?


When Lisa's grandmother passed away unexpectedly...
by her dying bed she kept an ivory music box,
and to her lovely granddaughter she gave it
to saying," Take care of it, and smile when you think of me!"


The day after granny died, she went down the dark cellar
to hide the ivory music box in an old dresser's drawer,
and once in a while she would open it and play it and listen to it sadly;
the pretty angel swirled...and Silent Night played as Lisa touched it tenderly.


It was almost Christmas Day and the pine tree wasn't decorated yet,
she rushed outside carrying a red basket with ornaments in it;
how could she had forgotten to adorn it with bulbs and garlands?
" Oh gosh, I feel like the Grinch!"  she displeasingly uttered to herself. 


There was no snow predicted for that evening and the illuminated town
was lacking Nature's magical snowflakes to make it festive and vibrant;
five minutes to midnight the choir from the nearest church gathered outside,
and waited for a miracle...silence...tranquility...every heart felt so alone.


But Lisa with an indomitable spirit ordered them to sing, 
and they began singing looking up the clearest, starriest sky;
everyone seemed sad and some of them wanted to cry,
but before sadness set in...snowflakes began falling.


Lisa knew that it was the miracle she had been waiting for,
but something was missing from the snowy scenery...
she remembered her ivory music box she had put away,
and running, with awe in her bright eyes, she opened the cellar's door...


Clutched in her caring, careful hands, she carried the ivory music box,
laid it gently underneath the twinkling, scented Christmas Tree;
Lisa kissed it tenderly...until the golden angel started to swirl at midnight,
as that divine music filled the nippy air...making all cheeks so peachy.        


Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci


Details | Senryu | |

lost behind fragile glass

she smiles cautiously

as if she knows who I am....

I live on her nightstand





_________________________________________________
For Senryu Contest: Sponsered by Black Eyed Susan




Details | I do not know? | |

For Men Everywhere One Billion Rising

1 Billion Rising.

For Men Everywhere.

Stop! Listen! Think! Act!

Stop!

Stop the abuse!

Of grand-daughters,
colleagues,
daughters,
girlfriends,
partners,
mothers,
sisters,
nieces,
wives,

all women.

Listen!

Listen to the voices!

Of grand-daughters,
colleagues,
daughters,
girlfriends,
partners,
mothers,
sisters,
nieces,
wives,

all women.

Think!

Think of how you treat,

grand-daughters,
colleagues,
daughters,
girlfriends,
partners,
mothers,
sisters,
nieces,
wives,

all women.

Act!

Act now to change yourself!

Stop! Listen! Think! Act!

The violence,
the abuse,
the rape,

stops when you stop,

the violence,
the abuse,
the rape.

Stop! Listen! Think! Act!

The violence,
the abuse,
the rape,

is perpetrated by,

grand-fathers,
colleagues,
boyfriends,
husbands,
nephews,
brothers,
partners,
fathers,
uncles,

men,

all men.

Stop! Listen! Think! Act!

The violence,
the abuse,
the rape,

stops when us men stop,

The violence,
the abuse,
the rape,

today, now.

Stop! Listen! Think! Act!


Details | I do not know? | |

REST IN PEACE MUM ANN BROWN 18 AUG 2011

MUM ...

WHERE DO I START? I DON'T THINK THERE IS WORDS , TO EXPLAIN HOW I AM 


FEELING ABOUT THE LOSS OF YOU... BUT I WILL USE ALL THE STRENGTH YOU HAVE 


GIVEN TO ME , SO I CAN GET THESE FINAL WORDS OUT THE GUILT , SADNESS AND 

REGRET  FROM NOT SEEING YOU LIKE I WANTED TO  SO ****ING MUCH ,

 THEN THE PAIN OF NOT HAVING  A CHANCE TO SAY "GOODBYE" TO THE MOST 

BEAUTIFUL MOTHER COULD WANT, AND YES MUM I'M TALKING ABOUT YOUTO HOLD 

YOUR HAND, TO SEE YOU SMILE , TO HEAR YOUR VOICE, WOULD MAKE MY LIFE MORE 

WORTHWHILE. YOU TAUGHT ME HOW TO LIVE, BUT YOU NEVER TAUGHT ME HOW TO 

LIVE WITHOUT YOU I MISS YOU SO SO MUCH MUM, BUT THE LOVE IN MY HEART FOR YOU , WILL MAKE SURE 

YOUR LIFE , LOVE , WARMTH AND TOUCH , WILL LIVE ON FOREVER , 

IN ME I KNOW THAT YOU CHANGED ME , JUST FROM YOUR 

PRESENCE...THATS'S HOW STRONG YOU WERE MUM I KNOW YOU HAVEN'T LEFT ME , 

FOR THE LOVE IN MY HEART REMAINS , YOU WILL NEVER HAVE TO SUFFER AND YOUR 

BODY WILL FEEL NO PAIN...... GOD TOOK YOUR HAND , AND MADE US PART , HE CLOSED 

YOUR EYES , AND BROKE MY HEART ....FOR ALL THE TIMES WE HAVE BEEN TOGETHER,

I WILL NEVER FORGET YOUR FACE.

THERE IS NO MOTHER ANYWHERE LIKE YOU,

NO ONE COULD TAKE YOUR PLACE.

IF ONLY I HAD KNOWN YOU WERE LEAVING,

I GUESS I EXPECTED YOU TO FOREVER LAST,

ALL OF THE DREAMS OF US IN THE FUTURE,

ARE NOW BUT MEMORIES OF THE PAST.

GOD TAPPED YOU ON THE SHOULDER,

HE WAS THE ONLY ONE WHO KNEW,

THAT YOU WERE GOING WITH HIM,

TO THE SKY SO BEAUTIFUL BLUE.

ALTHOUGH I MAY NEVER SEE YOU MUM,

ARJAY WILL BE BY YOUR SIDE,

HE'S GONNA HOLD YOUR HAND,

AND LEAD THE WAY,

FOR HE WILL BE YOUR GUIDE.....

I LOVE YOU MY MOTHER.....
DON'T TELL ME THAT YOU UNDERSTAND, 
DON'T TELL ME THAT YOU KNOW,
DON'T TELL ME THAT I WILL SURVIVE,
HOW I WILL SURELY GROW.
DON'T TELL ME THIS IS JUST A TEST,
THAT I AM TRULY BLESSED,
THAT I AM CHOSEN FOR THIS TASK,
APART FROM ALL THE REST.
DON'T COME AT ME WITH  ANSWERS THAT CAN ONLY COME FROM ME,
DON'T TELL ME HOW MY GRIEF WILL PASS,
THAT I WILL SOON BE FREE.
DON'T STAND IN PIOUS JUDGMENT OF THE BONDS I MUST UNTIE,
DON'T TELL ME HOW TO SUFFER,
DON'T TELL ME HOW TO CRY.
MY LIFE IS FILLED WITH SELFISHNESS,
MY PAIN IS ALL I SEE,
BUT I  NEED YOU,
I NEED YOU YOUR LOVE UNCONDITONALLY.
ACCEPCT ME IN MY UPS AND DOWNS,
I NEED SOMEONE TO SHARE,
JUST TO HOLD MY HAND AND LET ME CRY,
AND SAY, MY FRIEND I REALLY DO CARE
Mom you mean the world to me
It’s hard to live without you ,You were always by my side
Through thick and thin you helped me


Details | I do not know? | |

REST IN PEACE MUM ANN BROWN 18 AUG 2011

MUM ...

WHERE DO I START? I DON'T THINK THERE IS WORDS , TO EXPLAIN HOW I AM 


FEELING ABOUT THE LOSS OF YOU... BUT I WILL USE ALL THE STRENGTH YOU HAVE 


GIVEN TO ME , SO I CAN GET THESE FINAL WORDS OUT THE GUILT , SADNESS AND 

REGRET  FROM NOT SEEING YOU LIKE I WANTED TO  SO ****ING MUCH ,

 THEN THE PAIN OF NOT HAVING  A CHANCE TO SAY "GOODBYE" TO THE MOST 

BEAUTIFUL MOTHER COULD WANT, AND YES MUM I'M TALKING ABOUT YOUTO HOLD 

YOUR HAND, TO SEE YOU SMILE , TO HEAR YOUR VOICE, WOULD MAKE MY LIFE MORE 

WORTHWHILE. YOU TAUGHT ME HOW TO LIVE, BUT YOU NEVER TAUGHT ME HOW TO 

LIVE WITHOUT YOU I MISS YOU SO SO MUCH MUM, BUT THE LOVE IN MY HEART FOR YOU , WILL MAKE SURE 

YOUR LIFE , LOVE , WARMTH AND TOUCH , WILL LIVE ON FOREVER , 

IN ME I KNOW THAT YOU CHANGED ME , JUST FROM YOUR 

PRESENCE...THATS'S HOW STRONG YOU WERE MUM I KNOW YOU HAVEN'T LEFT ME , 

FOR THE LOVE IN MY HEART REMAINS , YOU WILL NEVER HAVE TO SUFFER AND YOUR 

BODY WILL FEEL NO PAIN...... GOD TOOK YOUR HAND , AND MADE US PART , HE CLOSED 

YOUR EYES , AND BROKE MY HEART ....FOR ALL THE TIMES WE HAVE BEEN TOGETHER,

I WILL NEVER FORGET YOUR FACE.

THERE IS NO MOTHER ANYWHERE LIKE YOU,

NO ONE COULD TAKE YOUR PLACE.

IF ONLY I HAD KNOWN YOU WERE LEAVING,

I GUESS I EXPECTED YOU TO FOREVER LAST,

ALL OF THE DREAMS OF US IN THE FUTURE,

ARE NOW BUT MEMORIES OF THE PAST.

GOD TAPPED YOU ON THE SHOULDER,

HE WAS THE ONLY ONE WHO KNEW,

THAT YOU WERE GOING WITH HIM,

TO THE SKY SO BEAUTIFUL BLUE.

ALTHOUGH I MAY NEVER SEE YOU MUM,

ARJAY WILL BE BY YOUR SIDE,

HE'S GONNA HOLD YOUR HAND,

AND LEAD THE WAY,

FOR HE WILL BE YOUR GUIDE.....

I LOVE YOU MY MOTHER.....
DON'T TELL ME THAT YOU UNDERSTAND, 
DON'T TELL ME THAT YOU KNOW,
DON'T TELL ME THAT I WILL SURVIVE,
HOW I WILL SURELY GROW.
DON'T TELL ME THIS IS JUST A TEST,
THAT I AM TRULY BLESSED,
THAT I AM CHOSEN FOR THIS TASK,
APART FROM ALL THE REST.
DON'T COME AT ME WITH  ANSWERS THAT CAN ONLY COME FROM ME,
DON'T TELL ME HOW MY GRIEF WILL PASS,
THAT I WILL SOON BE FREE.
DON'T STAND IN PIOUS JUDGMENT OF THE BONDS I MUST UNTIE,
DON'T TELL ME HOW TO SUFFER,
DON'T TELL ME HOW TO CRY.
MY LIFE IS FILLED WITH SELFISHNESS,
MY PAIN IS ALL I SEE,
BUT I  NEED YOU,
I NEED YOU YOUR LOVE UNCONDITONALLY.
ACCEPCT ME IN MY UPS AND DOWNS,
I NEED SOMEONE TO SHARE,
JUST TO HOLD MY HAND AND LET ME CRY,
AND SAY, MY FRIEND I REALLY DO CARE
Mom you mean the world to me
It’s hard to live without you ,You were always by my side
Through thick and thin you helped me


Details | Rhyme | |

Forgotten Memories

Where do memories that are forgotten go?
It’s as if the events never even took place.
She searches for clues about a life long passed,
with confusion painted on her face.

She is visited each day by a parade of strangers;
never remembering any one of us.
If you don’t recognize the people you lived with,
how can you know who to love and trust?

Once she was a loving mother,
doting grandmother and faithful wife;
now each day is a struggle for her
and everyone else once part of her life.

The memories were supposed to be her comfort;
those she cherished enough to save.
It is sad to realize they are now long gone
and won’t accompany her to the grave.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Ghost of Bayou Cannot

Some folks believe it. Others do not. The legend told in the Bayou Cannot. The only witness who can swear that it's true, are the creatures who live in the bayou. The owl told the gator, the gator told the frog, about the horror filled night that changed their home in the bog. Far off on the mainland, miles from the marsh, in a large city, where living is harsh. A man's world invention sprang into life. A breath of fresh air to man's world of strife. A new deisel engine, queen of the line, would make it run for the very first time. The sunset limited it was aptly named. Gleamed in the station waiting its moment of fame. Boarded by folks going south, some headed out west, none mindful of anything, but each's own quest. New York to L.A. via the southern run. So it was, the trip had begun. Back in the bog, things were happening too. A barge made its way north with its captain and crew. The day had been hot. The night had turned cool. The fog roiled in, with its blanket of dew. The captain steered his tug, painfully slow, caution was key to safely deliver the tow. All of a sudden there was a scrape and a jolt the barge floated free, not held by a bolt. Panic seized the crew! "We've lost the tow!" "MAYDAY!" screamed the captain over the radio. Amid the chaos and moans of disdain, another great jar, "We've got it again!". Back on land not far down the track the Limited sped with a clickety-clack. Approaching the tressel no one noticed the shake. Who could blame the poor folks; the hour was late. Midway over the bayou came the tressels demise. A great shiver another great quake, tons of speeding steel, folks met their sad fate. Days went by weary and sad. Rescuers agreed none worked a wreck this bad. Twisted and bent the engine was pulled from the muck and the slime. "102" came the final count, the coroner spoke and noted the time. A weary voice shouted "Wait!" "Sir, I disagree!" Tired eyes turned, what did they see? A weary man held in his arms a child about three. Today believers say "an angel wanders." "A tiny spirit" Others agree. On foggy nights when no moon can be. A tiny light flickers so you will see. "It's a firefly!" Say the skeptics of haunt. The creatures disagree and murmur their taunt. They know the spirit of the child now lives in their swamp.

Written by my grandmother Sandra Burch


Details | Narrative | |

Today Is September 1 2007

On this day 16 years ago a beautiful baby girl was born.
As I cried they took her away.
My grandmother watching as if nothing were wrong.
Photos came for a brief moment then stopped
She was gone never to be herd from or seen.
It seemed as if she just vanished.
The agencies said her new family had moved.
No forwarding address to be found.
They apologize for the inconvenience.
Trying to convince me not to give up hope.
Hope what is this, something I find hard to have.
Years have come and gone and not a word.
The last photo I reserved she must have been 3 or 4 years old.
My search it still continues today, 
but not a trace of her or her family do I see.
On this the anniversary of her birth
 I still cry for the loss of my baby girl I bore so long ago.


Details | Verse | |

Injustices - Quinzaine

Injustices just break my heart. Do they affect you? Make you sad? Dorian Petersen Potter Aka ladydp2000 Copyright@2014 10.10.14


Details | Blank verse | |

Family Values

Family Values?
My great grandmother was your family values.
She scrubbed your floor and burped your baby, while my great grandfather 
looked for work as a dishwasher.
When have you ever valued my family?
I work, my will work.
You give her six weeks maternity.
I have no pension, sometimes the tension the builds and I scream at my 
daughter.
One time she had lost her keys and sat outside until I got home.
Where had she been to get those bruises?
When have you ever valued my family?
Yes, you like me to work.
But your dogs chase my daughter when she walks on your yard.
Your eyes wave sticks at my face when I drive by your home.
Family Values?
Where is your God?
Mine is nearby.
I pray one day that your lies choke on his truth.
Until then, I seethe in the heart of my suit 5 days a week, waiting for your death or 
awakening.


Details | Narrative | |

take me from this misery

* this poem has been inspired by Breaking Benjamin's Dear Agony....*
* and was written in memory of my grandmother Jeanne Gula *

My name is Jeanne Gula, today i found out that i have cancer.
Its in a tumor, that's very painful, its very rare, its 3 cancers into 1
they already took it out once... and it came back.
The doctor said it was to late to take it out again.
Its not the perfect end to my life, but its all i can have..
I don't really know how much more time i have.
I used to be able to walk by myself, with out help.
I can't believe this happened to me... of all people.
It's be coming torture, they called in hospices.
This cant be good...
I'm in my own home, slowly dieing...
I really don't want to leave, I will leave so many loved ones behind..
So I think i will stay a little longer...
Its January, i now can't do anything by myself, i have to rely on family to help with
everything, my organs are starting to slowly shut down, its very painful to go through.
but my daughters birthday is coming soon... I'm not going to leave now... i don't want her
to be sad, on such a happy day.
I can't hold on much longer.
I'm now out of this misery, its feb. 2nd, and I'm finally free.
Free, of all this pain, and I'm healthy again, I can walk, with out hanging on to anything
or anyone, I can finally be independent again...
now no one cry for me, because i lived a full long life, and no longer in pain..
I love you all.
Love Grammy


Details | Bio | |

Maxine

A cup of coffee here, a newspaper there.
A routine you shared with few.
Your smile, your laughter, and that gentle touch
that said you truly care.
Treasured moments, no other can compare.
A true gem in the rough, always know a piece
of you will live on with me. 
For you see you were more than a friend to me.
A grandmother sent for me.
A true gift from above.
Treasured always you will be.


Details | Rhyme | |

My Strength Renewed, My Rock

On the day of July nine 
In the year of ninety and six. 
Her heart was so pure and so fine 
But too weak for the surgeon to fix. 
Her eyes still shown bright as day 
But her frail body had wasted away 
Her smile as warm as the love 
That she gave through Jesus above 
She knew she would not pull through 
But not one moment of sadness or blue 
Did she cast to her loved ones there 
Who waited and prayed for her care 
The Day was the twelfth of July 
The hours ticked endlessly by 
Many friends and family too 
People I never knew 
Came to say their farewells 
To a sister who with Jesus now sails 
On a peaceful and gentle tide 
To ever abide at his side 
As the service came to a close 
And the time was as everyone knows 
To cover her body with earth 
Though her spirit had now a new birth 
From out of the crowd stepped a child 
Who's heart like her grandmother's  was mild 
She picked up a shovel and prayed 
As everyone stood there dismayed 
Some tried to keep her from her task 
She looked to her Grandpa with eyes that ask 
He said to those who had tried 
To stop this child at the side 
Of her grandmother's still open grave 
With shovel in hand and heart so brave 
Let her be was his reply 
She's strong enough I won't deny 
She then began her chosen task 
Permitted to do what her heart had ask 
Shovel by shovel and tear by tear 
Her respect paid true to a lady so dear 
At the tender young age of only ten
This little girl whose life has been 
Directed and sculpted by the events of that day 
And by the grandmother who taught her to pray 
Just ten precious years she shared with her here 
But forever in her heart her grandmother is near 
I am the mother of this brave little child 
And never has any heart been so mild 
The day was the twelfth of July 
And to my Mother I said good bye 
A new strength was shown to me that day 
In the child I had birthed and taught to play 
Grandmother's shoes are not easy to fill 
But with a heart of gold and the strength and will 
She to this day has been my best friend 
In absence of Mother my rock to the end 
Now twelve years later a woman full grown 
No longer here with me, elsewhere on her own 
No matter the distance in miles or in time 
She still fills the shoes of that Mother so fine 
And knowing her task will never be done 
She looks to the Heaven's, The Father, The Son 
But also she looks for a glimpse now and then 
From the Grandmother she knows will hold her again


Details | Free verse | |

Heirlooms

Opal grandmother eyes,
watery milk glass veins
in stick arms
throb weakly,
tense tight white thread
into frayed, thin quilts.

There is a slight rustle
of desperation, a hope
of completion
as smudged pigeons
shatter wind
and winter gives up
its gin clear grace.


Details | I do not know? | |

Me, Myself and I

Dear my best friend,
I am lonely, sad and with no care
I plaster a fake smile, again, but no one even noticed how sad I felt
Love was gone when my grandmother died
Trapped in a house with only windows. 
Outside to were people caring, having the love I want but never obtained
I miss you...
Mother has also told me that 'I am not who I use to be!'
That night I wrote a note and stuck it in the frame of my grandmother.
Though I wrote it, every time i read that note, water leaks from my eyes.
I promised my grandmother I would not cry...
I held tears back for 2 years, but soon broke that promise after mother yelled at me...
How long can I live this horror?
If I kill myself now, then i wont be keeping my promise to myself that I would go to Tokyo
Japan, going into Tokyo college of music. Becoming a singer, actress, or model. If I gave
up now....Then what was my climb to the be at the top and only making 10 steps out of 100
mean nothing?
I hope you can help me...
I need love that only one can give me now, but he loves someone else...
Is that okay? 
To love someone who is already in love with another?
I hope that you can write back to me soon. 
When my grandmother died, she took that once happy and bright girl with her, to help make
herself smile with me with her.
Sincerely,
Bridget


Details | Free verse | |

Addicted

 I didn’t know what had happened.
Suddenly my world was turned upside- down.
One day he was fine.
The next day he was sick, very sick.
The day after he was lying helpless in a white hospital gown on a bed not his 
own,
and he seemed to be getting stronger.
The day after that he was gone.
He used walk around the house high.
Smiling and laughing like some demented fool.
Once he knocked my mother’s favorite crystal glass off the dining room table and 
all he did was laugh,
laugh right in her face.
But of course he had complete control.
He could stop whenever he wanted to.
They just made him feel good; they weren’t addictive like that other stuff.
Each time my mother, or aunt, or grandmother confronted him about it,
this was his response.
But soon he needed more.
He slowly but surely progressed from a puff to a snort to a
needle in the arm.
Until one day he was addicted,
completely and totally dependent.
The days when he leapt out of bed on Saturday to play basketball with my 
brothers were gone.
He simply lay there in the hospital bed,
hopeless and scared. We were all scared.
 
As I sat my his side with my Mama I remembered the last time I saw him outside 
of that white hospital gown—
at a family barbeque my mama invited the whole family to.
The sun was shining brightly and I was sweating pretty heavily but as I looked 
over at my uncle I saw he kept shivering, violently.
I wanted to talk to him real bad 
and no one else seemed to notice how lonely he was,
so as frightened as I was by this strange shivering I went over to him.
He spoke kindly to me but most of the time he just kept scratching himself a lot, 
and rocking back and forth in his chair, muttering to himself,
like he didn’t even know I was there.
It was just days later that he passed.
 
 
Mama said he was out of his misery now,
in a better place,
and that God would give him a second chance.
I resolved never to walk that path.
Idiots around me say I will become curious,
that it doesn’t hurt to give something a try.
My uncle was curious too.
I love him but I cannot be like him.
Curiosity has its limits.


Details | Free verse | |

A Sluggish Socratic Reservoir

In your restless slumbers you feel me,
I know you feel me.    
Always by your side like an iron rusted sword
Dull to the touch and stranded to the length of your back.
Your sudden sighs will be the ocean churning and
The waves that collapse against the shore.
Every ache you undergo will emit a moan
So loud and locked away that even the sky will mourn
And it’s rains will fall for you alone.
Each dripping drop will attempt to match your insides
From the moment the first moon beams hit your windowsill
Till the sun ascends in an incandescent dawn
That pinkens the walls of your chambers.
You look beyond a naked field to
A moon which eases with every passing moment.
Beckoning you to dreams and thoughts that lay like scars and stains.
Come, they whisper.
Come listen to the symphony of our affairs.
Come watch these green waters turn to gold.
Travel the world and reach the end 
Only to find that you still want.
But here, with no one around in this volatile room,
With no eyes peering but the licks of lighted candles,
You’ll plead no to a nameless fear 
As you swallow the back of your mind.
Let an open mind in,
Allow it to listen.
And as you glance over to vacancy from
Your worn and heated side,
The skies will shudder with every hope and every lie
That even Socrates cannot deny these tries.
But in the half light of my own room
I wish to be your broken record
Or the lead singers private microphone.
Kiss my finger tips and drink in the residue of fountain pens.
I will plaster each phrase to my bedroom wall
Where I live to see that the writing never flows.
That each excerpt is choppy and final.
That every quote is bold and blush.
The frayed and shredded nursery wallpaper,
Shimmering pink with sudden audacity,
Will reflect moodily and ambiguously of my shattered thoughts.
With kudos to a grandmother Mary,
I slowly lift a frozen face from underneath a pillow.
After a minute of self doubt and realization
That settles like pin pricks on the palms of my hands,
I slide the idle face back into it’s sheath
Then contemplate the curiosity of my own slumber.
While ignoring every hope of sleep,
I’ll thread two nimble fingers through an open flame,
Stare provokingly into the shadows on the ceiling,
Get bored,
Get lonely,
And think of you.                  


Details | Rhyme | |

Unsung Heroes

How many unknown heroes are sleeping now 
Silently resting in this field once ploughed 
Tiny white markers on each tended grave 
Thankful flowers from those they saved 

In this field lie a million stories
Tales of pain, loss and unknown glory 
Brothers, sons and fathers each dear to someone 
Shrouded now in darkness, taken away by war's gun

Close your eyes and imagine how it was that last day 
As bullets flew and cannons roared, with lives they'd pay
They stayed and did not choose to run 
Those heroes now so very long unsung 

Tales of bravery left unsaid 
Just names on a paper, saying they were dead 
"Killed in Action" 
"Lost at Sea"
Words more than that, would never be

I wander slowly between each silent row
Sensing the pain and deep sorrow 
For one of those unknown heroes was my Grandad
Along with ten of the best friends he ever had

All died together, each trying to save the other one
None of them survived to greet the rising sun 
My Grandmother received a letter, a medal and a flag 
Along with personal effects tucked neatly in his old kit bag

Copies of letters he lovingly wrote
Such sadness brought a lump to your throat 
Tears flowed like rivers that never ran dry 
Pain would always be seen deep within her eye 

I remember that awful day so very well 
That's why his story I am trying to tell
Of his unselfish bravery left unsung 
I have the need to shout out and tell everyone 

I know that many have someone they lost this way 
In a war fought for democracy and freedom to stay
Remember their bravery and their great sacrifice 
To ensure what we have, they paid the ultimate price

Turning to look back at each of the graves 
I whisper my thank you for all that they saved
Sleep silent angels, you passed every test 
You were simply the very, best of the best!  


Details | Free verse | |

blue

				I Go Back…
I see her standing next to a man who would never do her wrong,
I see my grandmother in the green grass
touching an inanimate body, the
blue shirt a reflection of her feelings
always blue because of what her husband has done, I
see her happy now without him near
standing alone waiting for information to solve a
marriage gone wrong, the memories still lingering, back
when love was strong and everyone happy,
she was still young though, she was not bored,
she was in love, she was ignorant, all she knew is that she was
caring, for her children and theirs also.
I want to talk to her and say Careful,
don’t be a fool in love--the kids will feel the consequences,
you fell for the wrong man, together you will do things
that will end your love forever,
that will leave your daughters blue like you,
that their children will never understand,
that will make you want him dead. I want to speak to her
there in the clear summer light and say that,
her ignorant loving face listening to my every word,
her misunderstood caring soul,
her full broken heart never to love again,
her naïve experienced soul,
I will never do it though. I want to experience it all. I
take her in my hand like a helpless
empty scrap and throw her out the window,
by an edge like a simple worn image, as if I
wanted to knock some sense into her, I ask
Do you want you daughters to feel unloved, and their children to ask why?


Details | Cowboy | |

Faces In the Fire

On those cool summer evenings when coyotes haunt the night
And the campfire is dying—burning low, then flaring bright,
A cowboy plays harmonica while others sing and hum
While down by the chuck wagon a lonely guitar does strum.

A few pokes like Lon Stonecipher stare silent at the fire,
Imagining old friends and folks in times both dear and dire.
Lon sees and talks to faces that flicker in gold flames—
He asks them of the weather—remembers all their names.

“There’s Delton and Rosella, old Burlin and Rob Alcorn,
There’s that sweet Renata Robins that kissed me one June morn.
There’s Cal Shirlo and Spud Scanlon, that both died in the war,
And Addie Belle from Abilene that said she’d love no more.”

Cowpokes yawned and nodded—on this wild words did not dwell—
They knew the man he used to be, but this was just his shell.
The faces in the fire gave him comfort and offered hope,
They were his last salvation—without them he could not cope.

Lon stared into the fire for many hours before sleep—
His rest was fitful, frenzied—never calm, peaceful or deep.
And often he’d awake and gaze mournfully once again
Into those glowing embers in search of friend or kin.

“I can see my last saddle pal, young Mathew Leatherwood
And a Dodge City gambler that I shot right where he stood.
I see my dear grandmother and my sister Anna Lee—
My grandpa and brother Jim, who died at the age of three.”

The fire burned low and so did Lon out on that prairie bow,
But this was as it always was, at least until just now.
“I see you, ma—I see you, pa—your faces smile at me,”
So said old Lon one last time, drifting upon a prairie sea.

They buried Lon Stonecipher right out on that cold, dark land—
And right beside him built a blaze as hot as they could stand.
Then they watched the flames dance, and stared long into that pyre,
And to this day some still swear, Lon’s face was smiling in that fire.


 


  


Details | I do not know? | |

Love and Loss

Two small butterscotch eyes look up at me.
As I weep sobs of sorrow and pain
My tears fall from my face like rain.
I hear the gentle soothing purrs of my small yellow cat
As I fall to me knees from where I sat.
The thought of my loved one so slowely passed,
It all happened oh so fast.
One minute she was there,
and the next I knew not where.
I am so ready for that day
When God will come and see her I may.
The loss of a grandmother is oh so hard
But your love and feelings should not be barred.
And now I must not cry
For it is time to say goodbye.


Details | I do not know? | |

R.I.P Cardel

One love Cardel
You were one of my favorite cousins. 
I'm going to miss you more than you will ever know. 
I'm hurting inside but just don't want to let it show. 
How could someone do that to you ? 
You were one of many with such beautiful hearts of gold.
It's not the point that you had to go its how you had to go.
One love Cardel...
I hope you're watching from above.
Kiss my baby brother & grandmother and please send up my love
Be good all of you.
One day ill be up there where there's no tears, no fears, and just eternal love!
     


Details | Narrative | |

Somewhere Around Five

    
       It will just be another normal day I thought as I closed my eyes. 
I realized I was oh so wrong as I abruptly awoke to my Grams piercing cries. 
Could her Problem Change My day too? 
Wow! Let's just say I didnt have a clue.
   Eager to find out what was wrong I stumbled out of bed. 
So many horrible scenarios ran through my frantic head. 
I hoped my Gram wasn't in any severe pain. All of my emotions were becoming 
too hard to restrain.
   I finally reached my Gram then remembered a loud boom.
She just looked at me and pointed into my dads room. 
I now knew my Grandmother was okay,
but what about my dad? 
From this point on my day got really bad.
   I walked into his room finding something I never wanted to see. 
I remember thinking "How can this be?".
I found out my father was no longer willingly alive. 
The coroner said he shot himself somewhere around five.