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Long Grandparents Poems | Long Grandparents Poetry

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Long poem by Sabina Nicole | Details |

Great Grandma Kicked some Butt

When my mother was at the age of thirteen,
A dirty old man asked her to come clean,
He invited her over so she could make a few bucks
When she arrived he was in a black tucks
He was the neighbor across the street,
His wife was at work and he viewed my mom as weak
This man locked the door when my mother arrived,
Went to go kiss her, to feed his sick drive,
My mom ran out the back door and went across the street,
Little did this man know he was in for a “delightful treat!”
My great grandma lived six towns away
My mother called her in a state of panic and disarray
A forty minute drive, granny made it in fifteen
Granny drove her old ford like a race car machine
When she arrived, she kicked that man’s door down
She did not care if anyone was around
That man jumped up by that loud sound
She hit him so hard he fell right on the ground
She slapped him around with her left shoe
Cursed him out in Italian, while threatening him too
Later that night my mother’s dad came home
He is a little man with a loud groan
He heard the story and went across the way
Took his shot gun and made this man pay
Told him if he ever touched his daughter again,
He would shoot off his little “private friend,”
He made this man cry in his own living room,
But I promise you this man never again tried to consume,
Every little girl on that street,
He knew not to look at or he would get severally beat,
My family has many stories of my Great Granny saving the day,
Never mess with an Italians family, they handle things in their own special way.

By:Sabina Nicole
Contest:
Written:9/29/11






      Every family has stories that get past down from one generation to the next. I was blessed to have had my mother’s grandparents until about 6 years ago. They did not speak any English and my great granny was a crazy awesome woman. She grew up on a farm in Italy and had to do a lot on her own. She raised all the children and grandchildren but was old school about a lot of stuff.  I remember my great grandparents fighting with each other even in the nursing home. They were married for 58 years; they shared a room in the nursing home that had two separate beds. My great grandma use to hit my great grandpa with her cane from across the bedroom. It was funny to watch.  They may have fought but they loved each other so much, my great grandma died 6 years ago and less than a year later my great grandpa died too. Now they are in heaven together, I don’t think there’s fighting in heaven, God don't allow that;)


Long poem by PEDROS FERNANDES | Details |

Cerneja Kingdom And A Chirurgical Gift

My GRANDFATHER loved to work. His schedule from 3 am till 6 pm we were farmers
-we is a lot of people who's here?- He asks. 
-We Are.
With the scream of a Legendary fighter we all say "We Are" proudly looking at each other. The cows have a special meaning to WE, 
They were Nurture to be Healthy and Beautiful and were a Legendary Hobby after 6 meaning that they Shine, than won all trophy's for strength beauty and behaving. Cerneja was  an Imperatriz, temperamental, always ready to fight for her kingdom. Here comes the one of many risk-free situations in a natural site in the Vasdos the the Luso-Amazonia between 4 cows and dozens of Bovidae mammals, sheep and goats included, and with Cerneja out of control trying (have done before) to sacrifice an innocent well nurtured and less beautiful for Cer-kingdom standards and a solution. From HIS 2 meters of an well balanced body structure  holding a horn push and propelling with so much energy, Cer smash like a meteor to the floor over the farmers and Farmer and Animal kingdom stupefaction and our daze (the best,the Queen "Cerneja" almost a myth "and what about the empire-we thought". The kingdom always goes on.
Replaced Cer was sold for good money divided between the two owners (some animals like most of the land had more than one owner). The chirurgical eye of my HEART was so right and we were so wrong that Cer killed the unfortunate brand new owner and was given to the local slaughter house for THE FARMER unhappiness our dejection and all the WOMEN in the house joy In killing one of us instead one of others and Cerneja was evil- 

What stays is GULLIVER well tied to a chair by dwarves (in any pattern out of NBA tallest) while naptime warding off a fly and waking up smiling and feigning stretching the tight ropes 
-It's time to work 
Farmers pay back with the same coin to each other-WORK- And money comes from selling shared properties animals and milk. 
Sharing HERO type of stories always with coffee, good food and wine I was always involved in the exchange and legendary people are generally anonymous - in this particular that's not true for the heroism and courage stories but still will continue anonymous.  Thank You For the Kindness and Patience and I hope You continue to Produce Alike because What We Got, Get For Free We Give Back For Free, Right!
Right or Wrong?


Long poem by MoonBee Canady | Details | . You can read it on PoetrySoup.com' st_url='http://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/a_childs_training___part_2_of_2_493133' st_title='A Child's Training Part 2 of 2'>

A Child's Training Part 2 of 2

(Prov. 22: 6 /  Heb. 5: 14  /  Deut. 6: 6-9  /  2 Tim. 3: 13-15, 16  /  Matt. 19: 13, 14)


- cont. - from Part 1



And The Same Can Be Said
Of A Young Child’s Impressionable Mind
It Needs To Be Nurtured At Home
Or It Will Eat Every Junk & Stuff They Find

And You Can’t Let A Child
Follow Its Every Whim …
No Matter How Brilliant or Smart
Dumb Things Will Make Them Dim

But Parents Try To Remember
Just When You Were Young …
Didn’t You Just Want To Act Stupid
And Have Some Friends & Fun?

Every Child Needs To Know
What & Who They Can Trust …
This Is More Important Than That Job
& Making Big Bucks

Every Child Needs Guidance
Even If Parents Are Just Guessing
But There Is A Book of Instructions
To Keep Parents & Child From Stressing
(2 Tim. 3: 15, 16)

It Is A Compass & A Map
& Its Like Reading A Diary of  Confessions
Where Both Parents & Children
Can Learn About Real Life Lessons
(Matt. 4: 4  /  Matt. 19: 13, 14)

And We Need To Start Training Them Young
From The Crib & From The Womb
Give ‘Em Plenty Space & Privacy
But Know What’s Going On In That Room!

‘Cause Newsflash! … Now Hear This
When Children Get Wrong Ideas or Tears
It’s Up To Loving Parents & Families
To Steer Them Free & Clear

Yes, Newsflash! … Now Know This
Children Don’t Know Nuthin’!
It’s Up To Responsible Adults
To ‘Try’ & Teach Them Somethin’ …

Their Bright Little Eyes & Minds
Are Looking To Us For Advice
And We Have To Watch Their Little Heads
So They Don’t Get Infected With Lice!

Yes, Their Bright Eyes & Minds
Are Looking To Us For Advice
& There Is Not Enough or Too Much Time
That We Could Sacrifice

And Without The Rod of Discipline
Whether Spanking or Time Out On The Floor
Loving Communication Is What Keeps Them
From Being Spoiled & Rotted To The Core

Look – Grandmamma Used  To Tell Me
“If Everybody Is Sticking Their Head In The Fire
And They Tell You It Won’t Hurt …
You Tell ‘Em ‘You’re A Liar!’”

Listen, We All Can See That This World
Is Going To You Know Where In A Hand-Basket
But You Don’t Have To Let Them Group You & Yours
Into That Casket …

And When A Child Wants To Eat Candy
‘Cause It Tastes Good – All Day Long!
When You Tell Them “No!”
Listen … You Ain’t Wrong!


                        Written & ©:  7/16/2013

                        By:  The MoonBee


Long poem by Shanity Rain | Details |

Family Grief Family Happiness

  
   Have you ever written anything without sub combing to tears ?
        
    My Family portrait in my mind , 2 older sisters , 2 brothers
        My Mother caring about all five in different ways
      Just with Mom & Dad there having the best of Holidays 
     My sisters laying out on the deck of river bank for 4th of July ~
          
      Listening to " Honkey Chateau " and all by Elton John. 
       music  a great memory ~Disco , Donna summer , Grease ~ Jaws !

     Dad's records to Tony Bennett , Hank W Sr. , Count Basie & Louis Armstrong.
          The music  takes me home in a wagon filled with children and a dog "Lucky "    
      My Older brother , athletic , always fishing & hunting.
                 My younger , my Rock , Swimming and netting for fish,
        feeding our Fat cat Perch off the rocks patiently awaits her food               
         
       the yelling , slamming of doors ,  tempers Flare , passion 
         Our Parents , passionate love yet passionate Hate .
        
        After being a Family of Seven , Divorcing their fate ..
         Why did that show " Dallas " bring out the Divorce in all ?

       Scottish ~ Irish ~ French Iroquois ~ Cherokee  
                 No matter what the mix ..Our curse Alcohol ~
          the  Screaming , Drinking , this memory I wish to shut the door on .  
        Going to A & W or making Cheerleading ,The Bears of course~
             Excited in Chicago !  seeing Elton John in the Summer of 1976 ~
        Cubs ,  museum of Wax , Museum of science & History , Pizza !
        
       Expeditions of discovery ,little brother & I finding arrowheads on the Shore.
             Our Grandparents Faithful Celebrations ! Chiffon cake , Apple strudel `  
        Our Cousins on Holidays , going for ice cream cones , 
          scent of wet rain on oak leaves ~Before Halloween was bought in stores.
        
           ~ That is the Family I Love ,
                     that is the Family I choose to miss ~    
                       
              


Long poem by christine a kysely | Details |

Bentwood Rocker

I have a Bentwood Rocker
It's the most cherished thing I own
It is made from the willow branches
of an ancient tree at my grandparent's home.

It embraces me on my back porch
both in the morning and at night
when a pair of cardinals come to visit me
at both the first and last day's light.

I rock in a gentle rhythm
sip my coffee and watch the clouds
and think to myself life's worth living
As I just sit and rock without a sound.

Sometimes I hum a favorite tune
and sometimes I just rock silently alone
somehow this chair seems to center me
It motion washes away life's rough edged stones.

As I sway and think of days gone gone by
of my brothers and sisters and me
climbing up among the branches
of my grandparents big old willow tree.

We used to swing on all the branches
Like the Jungle Book's Tarzans and Janes
Laughing and swingly wildly, never quiet nor mundane
Yelling out profusely, howling out all the Jungle Book slang.

We used to weave together the branches
into leafy wreaths without any thorns
improvised crowns of the greenest splendor
Just as Julius Caesar would have worn.

Sometimes we added in flowers
Daisies and dandelions were always in season
Sometimes we just sat in that old tree
Just happy to be there, for no given reason.

And so decades and decades of years have gone by
My Grandparents have long since passed on
But I think of them often as I rock in my chair
Cherished memories to always remember.

And now the winter has settled in
My cherished rocker sits covered in snow
Waiting for the days of the songbirds return
Waiting for warm days instead of the cold.

It sits silently waiting for Springs blossoms to arrive
for a day when I can rock without being froze
for an evening when relaxing in my comfortable rocker
will signal the end of one of my beloved warmer days.

Copyright Christine A Kysely December 14, 2010

(c) Copyright 2010 by Christine A Kysely, All Rights Reserved, 


Long poem by Neil McLeod | Details |

A Ship In A Bottle

A Ship In A Bottle
My great Grand Father sailed to New Zealand on a ship called the Wild Deer in 1872. I have always loved ships in bottles, and one day decided I would drain a pretty bottle of its contents and put the inspiration back inside. It took three months to complete the project.

It sits there on the sideboard
Or on the mantle shelf,
And after such a long time
You don’t notice it yourself.
But should you have a visitor
Or younger child come by
It will spark interest anew
And gasps of “Me oh my!”
						
It’s then the curious wonder
How the ship was put inside,
And where the opening’s concealed
And was it hard to hide?
And if you put it in there
How many times you tried?
And if it went in through the neck
How could it be so wide?

It’s then you tell the story
Of going to the store
To find a bottle of good clear glass
With a shape worth planning for.
Dimple Haig is famous,
Carduh’s pretty fair,
The first one is triangular,
The other one is square.

The bottle must be decanted,
When empty cleaned and dried,
And a careful measure taken
Of the dimensions inside.
It’s then you render drawings
Of the ship you want to make,
And plan out going backwards
Every step you’ll have to take.

First you carve the hull
Of wood with grain that’s fine,
Then step the masts with hinges
So they fold down in a line.
You add the sails and rigging,
Check how they’ll erect
When’s time to pull the halyards
Through the bottle’s neck.

It takes months to finish
Doing a little every night,
I had my children watching
And remarking at the sight.
They saw me put in plasticine
To mold and shape the ocean
And carve wave crests with a spoon
To give the water motion.

When at last the time is right
And everything is ready
You carefully set the ship upon
The sea and hold it steady.
Then pulling on each halyard
The sails are slowly raised
And those who watch the process
Stand enchanted and amazed.


Long poem by MoonBee Canady | Details |

For An Abused Child

If I Could Have Gotten Your Embryo
Before You Were Born
I Would Have Sheltered You Safely
and Protected Your Form ...

I'd Have Put You In My Womb
& Flowed You Knowledge Like In A Tubric
& Patted My Expanding Belly
As I Played You Music

And As You Got Ready
To Arrive From The Birth Canal
You Would've Known My Breasts
Would Be Ringing Like Welcome Bells! ...

Eager To Suckle You
Breast Feed My Own Flesh & Nourish
So You Could Grow Strong
... In Love's Encourage

I Would've Held You In Wonder
& So Close Tenderly
Amazed At This Little Bundle,
Breathing, Piece of Me ...

And When You Turned One
Or As You Sucked Your Thumb
Or Eating Baby Food Jars of Plums
... I'd Have Given You Trumpets & Drums

... And Building Alphabet Blocks
& Superman Capes
& Stuffed Teddy Bears
& Oatmeal Cookies & Grapes

I'd Have Read You Stories
From Capt. Adventure Books
You'd Have Known You Were Loved
By My Proud Mama Looks

I'd Have Spent Time With You
Showing You How To Tie Your Shoe
Rocked You If You Caught The Flu
or Any Sniffles You Went Through ...

I Would Have Played With You
& Prayed With You
From Crawling To Walking
Paved The Way For You

Yeah, I Would Have Fussed At You
& When Needed Even Spanked You Too
& I'd Meant: This Hurts Me More Than You
'Cause You're The Little Symbiot, Mama Grew

So, You Would Have Known
You Were Loved & Treasured
You Would Have Known
Your Worth Couldn't Be Measured

Nor Compared To Anyone Else
At Any Point In Time
'Cause You Are The Best
Because You Were "Mine"

* * * * * * *

But I Never Knew You
But Believe Me If I Had ...
I'd A Made Sure You Had 
A Loving Mom & Dad

And You Would've Never Been Abused
Or Treated Bad ...
But From Now On Find Your Joy
To Replace What's Sad


            Written & Copyrighted ©:  9/12/2013 
             by:  MoonBee Canady


Long poem by Mirrian Bryant | Details |

GOD Cant You Change These Grandchildren

GOD Can’t You Change These Grandchildren?
GOD can’t you change these grandchildren?
You were there when they were born
You fed them
Changed their diapers
Followed them and their parents around the United States and some foreign countries
You studied with them
Went to school with them
Gave them money, praise, and love
And never a word of thanks
GOD can’t you change these grandchildren
They get on Facebook and Skype
Saying nobody has ever done anything for me
Did they give birth to themselves?
They didn’t have jobs, did they provide for themselves?
You bought prom dresses, caps and gowns, furniture, and paid fees
God can’t you change these grandchildren?
You pray for them
You offer them comfortable places to sleep
You try to show them how wonderful and valuable they are
And yet they don’t believe
GOD can’t you change these grandchildren?
You bought postage stamps for them so that they could write you
Not one letter did you receive
You sent invitations to celebrate and come and visit
They wanted you to pay for boyfriends and other kin
And now that they are adults that are full of rage and pain
How dare tell the world a lie
Nobody ever did anything for me
How dare they have babies and never bring them to visit
But when they need money here come the sob story
GOD can’t you change these grandchildren?
Love is unconditional; I really believe that’s true
So what about a phone call, a hit on Facebook, a text, a tweet? 
An Instagram just to say I love you, or I’m fine, I’m okay
Post a picture or a happy birthday
I love you grandchildren
Maybe one day I’ll do something and you can stop saying and posting
Nobody ever did anything for me
Love GOD and your Grandmother
’t You Change These Grandchildren?


Long poem by Linda Fowler | Details |

A STRANGER CAME TO STAY

A stranger came to stay today, it took me by surprise,
A stranger came to stay today, I could see it in her eyes,
Yes she looked like my Nan, the one I’d loved for years,
Yes, she was the same Nan who had wiped away my tears.
But I knew a stranger came stay today, & she had no plans to go away.

On a good day I’d feel elated that she had remembered my name
Then on the bad days, we’d have to play this important little game
Whereby she’d only talk to me if I pretended to be Scottish Maggie MacPherson
I wonder Grandad, if in her younger days, she’d actually known this person?

Although you’d gone to spirit long before Nan became so ill
She spoke to you every day, thinking you were in her life,    still
She got very angry when she thought you were late home from work
And demanded every day that my Mom was to wash & starch your shirts

Mom was at a loss to know how to cope with Nan’s constant mood swings
Your prim & proper sweetheart would swear like a trooper & throw things
Nan’s eyes would glaze over and Mom knew she’d be in for another episode
Whereby this stranger that came to stay, would just lash out & explode

Heart breaking to see the collapse my beautiful intelligent well-loved Nan
We knew this illness was not her fault & to hurt Mom was never her plan
Doing everything to make her comfortable and happy was all we could do
Until it was her time to make her journey home to spirit and to YOU

One day the stranger who came to stay, knew she was moving on to a better place
She was different & we could see a serenity & peacefulness envelope her face
Her death was very upsetting, but her release was a joyous occasion too
As it was the day her mind was set free & she could rest in the arms of you


Long poem by Prateek Tripathi | Details |

GRANDFATHER

You are one of the people whom I admire the most,
 I always think to send u in Heaven a post;
 Your absence pierces the heart,
 Desire to have my name in your good chart;
 Long since there no one to tell the stories,
 Ramayana and Mahabharata whose heroes enchanted their glories;
 Evening walks are missing you,
 Alone here needs who say words true;
 I haven't experience the death's pain,
 The way to get close to God as only gain;
 Today sleeping doesn't bring the happiest moments,
 Request to God to get me the those days in rent;
 I am residing there from where you never came back,
 But I know I am filled with people with whom my heart never sag;
 Losing u at a very small age of mine isn't so good,
 I haven't thought u can be so rude;
 Often my dream witnesses u,
 Your smile, your goodness everything in u;
 The traditions followed by you and from the family attracted me,
 The need of hour requests u to stand aside me;
 The art of archery taught by u,
 Never from my mind in these years this technique flew;
 Rudeness can never be in your nature,
 The Strongest had given so much in your treasure;
 You live in my heart, my instincts,
 Patiently waiting for last 15 years to make my problems fix it;
 My facebook cover photo to have you underneath a big reason,
 Atleast there you are present in my dimension;
 Love and emotions between us kept me alive till today,
 My memory never gonna skip your birthday;
 Wish I could be your stick for your support,
 And I have been there to obey your order as your TV's remote;
 May there be less time to meet you in Heaven,
 Cherishing again the golden days among two men.


Long Poems