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Epic Grandfather Poems | Epic Poems About Grandfather

These Epic Grandfather poems are examples of Epic poems about Grandfather. These are the best examples of Epic Grandfather poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Epic | |

To My Wife Grandpa Murray's voice

I wandered and travelled
Nor knew where I'd gone .
Life became a problem;
T'was one long cruel song.

My problems seem to multiply;
They came from every side.
I vowed to find the answer;
by this I would abide.

I looked into nature
And tore apart my mind.
Then put them on the table
To see what I could find.

I found that I'de been greedy
and avaricious, too.
Whenever projects of mine failed
I put the blame on you.

I found that I was lonely;
I thought you didn't care.
But what I really didn't know
Was you were always there.

You tried to fill the void
That always was in my Life.
you tried to ease the sorrow
You've been a real good Wife.
 
                           Yvette & Grandpa Murray  
          From James Murray to , Janet Murray ..his beautiful wife.
" In great respect of Grandfather Murray's poem he wrote for my  Grandmother Murray "

Copyright © Shanity Rain | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

My Grandfathers Dying Wish

See problems they no worry Timothy
He was raised by his Great Grandmother
One day she taught him
Miho you can make life beautiful or ugly
Work hard, find a woman who has a strong back
Beauty fades it doesn’t last long
Now let me tell you 
A woman with a strong back may not be your perfect companion
Times are changing, I think Faith is more important these days
I say okay Grandma, can I have the horachata now that you made me
No hush up! You can have it when I’m finished talking
Timothy come your poor Grandfather wanted you to have this
It is his Journal and I have never read out of it
She hands it to me
I am struck by it’s cover, it is brown and plain
Yet it spoke to me by it’s elegant style
These words were printed on the cover “Blanco Vendetta”
I was drawn and pulled in untill I was covered by the spell
The first page I open too it says “My first Mil Besos”
The Temptess that blew my heart away
I turn to page 33
It says “The story of an Apache Warrior”
There are no rules to an Apache Warrior when it comes to fighting
He says if you are my enemy I don’t care how but I’m gonna kill you
Page 41 is like a fist full of words thrown across the page
Barrio boxing, The protection of the Shield of Faith
Brokenhearted for my careless speech has left her heartbroken
Strengthened by Love “Amor”
Nourished by the sunshine in her hand
There is healing in its beams
Blessed by her presence Del Dios I am Greatful
I’m like Grandpa what did you say wrong
Then these words come to me
Give her your full attention when she speaks to you
Because the Heart of the Wise studies how to answer
So I close it and my finger brushes a bookmark
It’s the Last page
It says To: “Timothy my son who is as mighty as an army”
I Thank you for the Greatest Gift
For the Greatest Gifts are as small as your small hand that touched me
I plant these seeds and they will take root and grow because you are good ground
Timothy let me say That without you I would of never found my Faith in GOD
Listen for it is your Grandfather who is dead and speechless
Timothy you see the good in everything
And I know you will understand my words clearly
If a man gives you his word
Promise me not to plan your future on it
And if you give your word my son
Do everything in your Power to fulfill it
AND NEVER Promise more than you can deliver 
For it is better to put out more than you promised
Everyman is considered unwise when he appears foolish
I wish I could give you some insight about women
But your Great Grandmother may help you better than I can
But never timothy, Never be quick to fall in Love 
Or give your heart to a woman
Listen carefully to her words when she speaks to you
Cherish Her give her your full undue attention 
Because the Heart of the Wise studies how to answer
Love your neighbors as yourself
And do not strive against another man
If he has done nothing wrong to offend you
AS much as it is possible live peacefully with all men
And it is okay for you to speak these things with your Great Grandmother
She is a very wise and God-fearing woman
Amor take the greatest care of her, I Love you Son
Timothy when the time comes to avenge my death
Hit harder then you ever have before
But not in a Duel son, not like an open Vendetta
Marry his daughter Maria
The one who is pretty and Two years younger than you
Oh! He will suffer greatly!
And it will kill him to know that I chose this way to repay him
And remember son to be ready to fight any man at the drop of a hat

Copyright © Timothy Jacks | Year Posted 2012

Details | Epic | |

Grandma and Grandpa of Cinematic Creators

Only one room of the home of thatched roofing
Night nest my childhood grew up
On the reed mat, at the cow dung floor
We slept in a line warmly in whole room 

With the portion of my dinner, given by my mother
In the evening I came, Grandma’s home ever
Grandma, Grandpa, seldom with my brother
Nights I spent was a book grim brother

Close to the rice pot and two hot curries 
Sat for the dinner eagerly by the light of cruet
Hungry amber color painted night touched faces
Taste of dinner though simply and smell haunt 
 
Passed happy and sad days, rich and poor days
Stamped mixed memories in countless nights
After the dinner and betel desert of delights 
Mats were laid, the door was ajar till sleeps

Of Kings, princes and heavens the story long
Longed to hear until grandma wants to sleep
Visualized images and in horrible forests
In Grandpa’s narratives, I wondered as a cloud

Once he tells and ends about a demon’s tale
Afraid my feet disinclined of going to pee
Night and dark when light and door were closed
A visual screen through roof’s holes that story plays

Grandma, Grandpa both are my cinematic creators
Unwritten epics of my big world narrators
Imaginary mind and poetic soul me granters 
Your place far away and become exiled traitor 

  





Copyright © Udaya R. Tennakoon | Year Posted 2015

Details | Epic | |

I Came Back to You in September

I came back to you in September
you were quiet then
still,
like you used to be,
when men were men
and I was just a child

When the smell of the fish docks
mingled well with the stench of the slaughter from the cattle market
and an early morning crescendo of hooters 
meant work
And you had to go 	
When your father
and my father 
crowded down on the docks
desperate to catch the foreman's looks

And from where so many fathers 
were turned away
broken
yet unbitter men

Returning home like so often you did
to pray and dream of better days than these
and you hoped that things would change
but for you
you knew
that they never would.

And then the war came
and I was sent away to fight for my country
this country
the one which had kept us all alive on a few pence a week
and I left behind the smell of the fish docks
the reek of the slaughter
to earn my place in that world
Your world

And one day I returned
fell in love and made love
amongst the ruined ashes of what once was
of what could never be again
I lay planning out my life while the bombs fell

And I sat amidst the solitude of that old terraced house
frightened to death by that silence
that stillness
as ceaseless clocks 
ticked slowly away
an era
an end
and I looked at your face
and tried so hard not to see my own

And I returned to that war
that cruel bloody war
fighting one inside me even greater than that one could ever have been
but that war ends
and I returned to that war
your bloody war
the one you pretended you never saw

And the world returned to the smell of the fish docks
the reek of the slaughter
to that broken down world
full of broken down lives
grey faced men 
greeting
faceless, shapeless wives

And long before faces could ever begin to smile
you died 
quietly giving up on your life 
like you had so many years before
and I died
as they buried you in an already forgotten part of that world
and I could linger there no longer
and left behind the smell of the fish docks
the reek of that slaughter

And I came back to you in September
back to stare at a world which once was
and yet could never be again

Only a few old buildings remained
standing empty and silent 
like when the bombs came
and I looked into that face
and tried so desperately not to see my own

And I stood aloof to a world which could no longer reach me
yet still I trembled
lest some derelict echo from the past drew me back into that world
that old cruel world
where all men ever wanted to be was men

And yet how I loved you in September
as time once more stood still
and oh 
how I loved that stillness
as I returned to where childish laughter once filled empty spaces
places where I had so long ago ceased to dream

Amidst the dark dancing shadows 
where love becomes so physical 
that the poet's dreams are so finally shattered

And on the cracked broken pavements where the bombs fell
where you fell
where we all fell
so many years before

And silent leaves fall on your grave
on my grave
like falling tears
my tears
for so many wasted years

I came back to your in September
you were quiet then
still,
like you used to be,
when men were men and I was just a child. 


Copyright © Ray Moody | Year Posted 2016