Best Familyfamily Poems
My family is everywhere like wild seeds sown
On the whim and bluster of a wind
Some left for Cuba before the revolution
Bring green stalks of sweet grass to sugar
And are still there, root sunken in the earth
Grafted branches without memory now
Or recognition of ancestral home,
Separated by language and new history
Thick as the depth of our watery boundaries.
Some in Panama built the canal, but no bridge
For home when their meagre cents were spent
Too soon. I met a few with little knowledge
But no anxiety for early morning mist of blue
Over the mountain, looking still to see them
Coming home like birds when summer is done.
Some went to Venezuela to see the oil
They said was black as Africa in the new world
Brazil: there football is more than economy
Gladiators: bloodless troubadors of the new army
And many drifted into the squalor of Costa Rica,
Nicaragua, Ecuador, searching for light
Amidst old civilizations brought to ruins
By Conquistadores majesty and Roman might.
The only one who report are those from Canada
Is it because of the language, because they proper
As they do in America. Is there nothing in them
That longs for home, to leave the Mexico to her Aztecs
Her cactus lace with golden strands of sun.
When I was in Germany, Austria, France, far away
As Holland, Rhine and Danube linking invisble
Heritage, I met them, distancing the old decay
"We are thinking to move to Taiwan or Japan"
They told me, poverty does make a barren land
So I understand the boat people, not lying
Like Columbus, they seek the same treasure
And yet for their truth reap some displeasure.
I could package it for them to sell, but cannot agree
When the wind rattle the wattle of desolation.
My family is everywhere scattered like wild seeds
In fresh forests fretting with the burden of the wind.
I am a white, middle class, American male; raised in a white, middle class American home. I would not say that my upbringing included a lot of diversity.
I remember talking to my brother, Jimmy, just before he told my father he was gay. Jimmy told me about the inner struggle he wrestled with in first admitting to himself that he was homosexual. He said he thought it was wrong; it was sinful and something he must avoid being. Once he realized that being homosexual was not a fault but an innate sexual preference, he decided that he would not live a life of lies. He, therefore, decided to tell his family about his sexual inclination. It took a lot of courage to tell my ex-marine father.
Afi is a beautiful, strong, black African woman; raised in a black, African home. Afi will admit that she is not overly charitable and not likely to do volunteer work. When she first came to the U.S., however, she was appalled with how our society treated its AIDS victims. In Africa, Afi would tell us, AIDS patients were embraced and cared for, not shunned and outcaste like here in the U.S.
Jimmy was not a promiscuous man. He only knew a few sexual partners in his too short life. Jimmy was a very intelligent and artistically gifted man. He was doing post–doctorate research in Iraklion, Greece when he first started showing symptoms of having AIDS.
When Afi volunteered to be an AIDS Buddy she made it clear that she did not want to be paired with someone who had full-blown AIDS. The organization was so hard pressed to find someone with a profile to match Jimmy’s intellect and interests that they begged Afi to just meet him, just once.
Afi says that within an hour she was no longer on a volunteer mission; she and Jimmy
would be friends regardless of a commitment to the Buddy system. Jimmy and Afi
remained best of friends for the two remaining years we were blessed with his presence.
It has been 15 years since Jimmy passed away. I am still a white, middle class, American male; from a white, middle class American family – only now, we have a beautiful, strong, black, African sister in our family.
My grandfather and I had a special relationship.
When I was young we lived near his home in Baltimore. But, my family moved away from
Baltimore when I was five and we lived most of my life in another state far away from my
grandfather. Whenever he called, however, I was the one grandchild he always wanted to
talk to so we could discuss his beloved Baltimore Orioles. I was the one grandchild who
followed sports closely and always remained a true Baltimore sports fan.
Later in life, I learned that my grandfather was actually a gifted baseball player himself when
he was young. In those days, he would explain, professional baseball players did not make
enough money to support a family so he had to make up his mind to either play baseball or
get married and raise a family. As it turned out, his love for baseball was only surpassed by
his love for my grandmother and, although he hung on to the newspaper clippings that
labeled him a “can’t miss professional baseball prospect”, he hung up his cleats and glove,
married my grandmother and went out to find a “real” job.
But his love for the game survived and year in and year out, he and I discussed the
intricacies of the game and enjoyed or lamented each baseball season based on the
successes and/or failures of the Baltimore Orioles. As crummy as the Baltimore bums are
today, I was fortunate enough to experience and share many more successful seasons than
poor ones during those limited years that I shared life with this amazing man.
I always felt sorry for my grandfather, considering him a victim of poor timing. Had he
been born about 50 years later in life, he would not have had to pick between being a
baseball player or earning a living – in fact, with his talent, he could have earned a much
better than average living while enjoying the one thing he loved most in life.
When my grandfather passed away, I was sure that he was joining a heavenly nine to once
again strap on his spikes and don the leather. Without a doubt, they must play baseball in
heaven. And I wait for the day that I sit in the heavenly bleachers and cheer on a young
grandfather playing this wonderful game with other boys of summer.
(Inspired by, “is there baseball in heaven”, by Constance, A Rambling Poet)
The first big family vacation, it was all so new
Mom found a dream ranch, a so-called “dude”
The kids were so young, a daughter not yet two
Our son only four, wanting to ride with the crew
Rafting, riding, and a real Mountain Man too,
This vacation was a hit - who knew?
As the years go by, we’ve made many friends
But over time this special week transcends
As families grow, things change
It can’t be helped, not really strange
Truth be told, our hearts aren’t ready
To agree on a change, on that we’re unsteady
Because memories are priceless, we’ll soon not forget
The ranch rodeos, Fat-Bat baseball games, and the brunch ride silhouette..
Of our annual family picture on a mountain out West,
Every year showing our kid’s growth, we are very blessed
It’s not with sadness that I write about when this might end
For it will surely open up a new door or trend
For as long as your heart, your family, and your thoughts don’t scatter
Where you go on vacation really doesn’t matter
Beach, mountains, wherever, one really shouldn’t mind
As long as you’re together, the time spent can be sublime
Oh, there are gripes, moans, and argument; it’s part of the quest
But I wouldn’t miss it, for who would have guessed
That in time as with all things, it too will naturally end
As children grow up and add their family blend
But If our good fortune continues we’ll be part of what’s next
In the knowledge that our time together is a gift not a test
My family is the world to me. my family is a lovely tree.
--a tree with many branches, a tree that will take many chances.
a tree of hope; that will always be my support. a tree that will disagree, but always remain a
family. a tree that will grow stronger as the years grow longer. i will always be a part of that
family tree. until i see the limbs break free. a family that prays together will stay together.
my family will be by my side as i take big strides. my family will be there when no one else
will cares. thank god for my family, for without them, we are twigs standing alone.
Form:
Unhooking the chain
I opened the rusty gates
to Olive Branch Cemetery
Hallowed ground of yesteryear
Peaceful as the name sounds.
There is a place of comfort sweet
Near to the heart of God
A place where we our Savior meet
Near to the heart of God
Like a white butterfly fluttering from
One headstone to another headstone
where sweet clover blossoms rested their heads
protecting the ancestors of long ago—
Stopping by each one
I gently touch and wonder
Standing on rolling hills of countryside
Six-foot tall or five-foot short
giants of the soil
English honest proud
farmers tilling the land
children by their side helping
with French heritage mother
who listened to the tears,
cooked meals, washed clothes
lesser than the men but carried on.
Walking in time thinking, then
Seeing it!
I lifted up Nancy Emily’s initialed stone
N E P lying on the ground
young farm girl no state aid
rocking her baby boy
For when my heart is troubled, filled with fear,
Jesus whispers peace
Young lad gladdening saddened family hearts.
I wonder her pain kept a secret
Until descendants began to unearth
digging deeper than her simple grave
Nancy Emily, rest well knowing
your descendants are bright and fruitful
healing the sick
teaching children
keeping the law
at home and afar raising children to become.
Whispering hope, O how welcome thy voice,
Making my heart in its sorrows rejoice
Oh! Family of long ago
toiling planting reaping caring
lying now on former fields
with mottled stones announcing your place.
N E P stands upright.
Feeling like a mighty oak tree
faithful and fulfilled,
I leave
fastening tight the rusty gates—
past secured for future
Exploring the branches of the family tree can be rather dicey.
Some ancestry could be famous, humdrum or downright spicy!
A feller I know decided to take the risk and check around.
I'm not so sure that he was all that pleased with what he found!
Seems that in the distant past a member of his family strain,
Was a notorious pirate marauding the bounding Spanish Main!
Another was a nefarious cattle rustler ever on the vamoose.
Til a posse tracked him down, and stretched his neck with a noose!
One forebear, a scoundrel who specialized in robbing trains,
Was ensconced for life in a cozy cell, detained in heavy chains!
A rowdy ancestor caused a ruckus in a Cripple Creek saloon.
The local sheriff done him in one fateful afternoon!
His lineage included a "business lady", of whom he proudly spoke.
Til I revealed what a "soiled dove" was, dismaying the poor bloke!
His great-grandpa was caught dispensing jugs of potent 'shine.
Revenooers busted him, resulting in jail and a hefty fine!
His uncle was a goon in a notorious Chicago gangster mob.
He met his Maker heisting a bank they were trying to rob!
He proffered a prayer as he examined that tragic family tree:
"Lord! May a sturdy twig adorn this tree and let it begin with me!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)
One Family
Parents, two daughters and a son
Children were young and loved learning about life.
Together, they explored the world…often visiting the zoo.
Lover of: the first child with her scientific mind; she loved to watch animals and hear their sounds.
Lover of: the second child and her big heart; she could make life-like elephant sounds as a child.
Lover of: a son with strength; he enjoyed the zoo from his stroller and listened to us make animal sounds.
Who feels: happy when orangutans swing close enough to almost touch, connecting.
Who feels: ecstatic when the elephant takes a peanut from little hands…imagining a safari on its back.
Who feels: uncontrollable laughter when a baby chimpanzee swings and flips around in trees.
Who fears: the pacing tiger’s glaring look.
Who fears: the alligator’s thrashing, splashing and swimming close.
Who fears: the grizzly’s growl as it echoes through the park.
Who would like to see: the whole zoo while riding on elephants’ backs.
Who would like to see: family parrot pictures with birds on heads and every arm.
Who would like to see: the king of beasts preening a little lamb.
Resident Visitors of the Jacksonville Zoological Society
Zoo-Ville is the place where my family found much fun.
© Dane Smith-Johnsen
September 18, 2010
NOTE: I stuck to the bio poetic form format as closely as possible to the Poetry Soup definition.
Imagine…
A family sitting in a living room; the living room made of sofas and chairs
The sofas told a tale of antiques; never a complexion, even to the brain’s follicles of hair
Her grandfather, and other members of the family sat there;
laughing; nourishing the air
There she sat, opposite to her grandfather’s left side
She looked at him, at his laugh, and smiled
Everyone around them seemed to be damped with fog;
nothing was seen except; herself, her grandfather, and a picture that seemed unprepared to
trod
Her grandfather held that picture and saw his grandson
Immédiatement*, he smiled and admired the photo’s photon
She then spoke and told her grandfather that his grandson has now grown;
thus calling his grandson to come; to be shown
There, his grandson arrived, and his grandfather held him in his hands and placed him on his
laps
It was a beautiful scene without any empty gaps
But then, she noticed her grandfather didn’t look at her;
it was as if she was out of the picture…
It was then she realized like she was talking to him, but he didn't hear her...
It was then she noticed that it was a dream within a dream...
She had seen her grandfather when she was three
But now, she misses him a great deal…
‘May you rest in peace’
*Immédiatement: Immediately
Suffering and struggle trying to feed a family
Hard work makes you feel manly
You feel manly when you feed your family
A family appreciates a man who strives and searches every alley
Every alley searched no lid left unturned
Ins and outs you learn
You yearn for better, the world is cold better is warm
When weight is heavier your strong
Familiarity is strong but love is a heavier bond
Easy to admit a wrong, move on
Correct it in the long,
A spirit of a man collected that’s what makes a family strong
Personal fears faced now fears facing the wrong way
Because you take it by storm
Chasing more until your amidst a swarm
Leading a pack weight on your back heavy paws on the floor
To lift them you clench your jaws sweat from your pores
Heal your own subliminal sores
Because families more important than your own stats collectively we score
Form:
I have little of this world's pelf,
But there is one thing I pride in myself.
I have a family that I deeply treasure.
My love for them is beyond all measure!
Some folks take pride in material goods,
And live in upscale neighborhoods.
I am happy to live a simple life,
With a dear, caring and loving wife!
Other folks take pride to show their fancy abode.
The mortgage I'm quite sure is a terrible load!
I take more pride showing a crib so simple,
Where our slumbering babes display cute dimple!
To further add to my treasure account,
I have grandkids 'til I've almost lost count!
Even great grandkids, can you believe,
Adding more love for the family to cleave!
I would cede all treasure on this earth,
To have family gathered about my hearth,
Exchanging "I love yous" and fond embraces,
And seeing sweet smiles spread upon their faces!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
-
Terence a Griffiths of Tyrone or Leitrim!
Did he know but later of 1820 he would be there born
A Flax Grower a renter from landlords of Lord Leitrim's domain
To thresh and sack and cloth and sow by wife and all but slavery go
A brother Bartholemew younger and two rented fields up
They toiled and cut their respective Dromahair tracks for family food and church
Imagined home of limestone scraw and thatch and little more
To Him and Mary had children born but died and died but - James a smile born at last
Year of 42 destined of birth and life much the same
With toil and despair like all the rest of this peopled land
A famine near but river trout and oats and eggs kept going without the potato plant
Blyte and desperation spared on none but those ready those prepared
Not prepared evicted on the lonely green lined road and board of works pittance
For those a fraction better or more a trip to port and bay to look across the sea
Without a family to meet or lodgings to lay
The night before a sorrowful wake of music and porter barrel there
With food and tears and pennies off never to see no more
Terence proud and sad James he sends America to go
And send some money home to mother to lowly sons
She creaks and breaks and steers the stomach
Up and down the drains of hungers pains
The deck to break of wave and sounds and New Amsterdam emerge
Better lands and money sent home to purchase 20 Acres and 2 roods no more
Never to return is not true. A loyal James to Landlord downed and to family too
He roots and spreads and family bear and atained a generation there
But cannot see to bear another ship for those he knows and hates the family split
A neighbour lined up at the poor house and green lane go. He can stand no more
And sacks the postman's bag with others and throws the notice to the ditch
The brutal notice of postman's summons blocks arrests the rabble and gaols the mob
I saw the picture of Limerick gaol a bowler hat not there but pride
Pride in a smile. - James a smile born at last.
Form:
The wind is quite blustery on our short walk to grandmaws
Hankering to have some chocolate pie and dressing
And see the new baby boy!
Never get to spend much time with the family lately
Kiss 'em all and get a hug
Stress out over all the germs we shared
GOD grant us blessings all the days of our lives
IF the heartburn doesn't kill me tonight, praise Jesus
Value of family --priceless$$
If brother can hobble he will make it ok
Next year will be better
God grant brother a new hip by Christmas
Drop off some new teeth for granny
Ann, she needs to chew her food good
You're faithful and just to grant our needs!
We have choices in later life.
However, we have inheritance at birth.
Lillian's son gave a brief reminder of this at a brief chat one day after her passing.
We are given an inheritance of our family.
We do not chose them nor their behaviors brought to the table, so-to-speak.
Cherish your family even if you have to disagree.
Your family will disapppear one-by-one.
Cherish your family.
Richard and I understand our inheritance.
Know your inheritance!
The dreaded day of the family meeting arrived
Elder planning, liquidating assets and dispersing 84 years of belongings
Excuses, postponing, manipulations, whining and reasonings--
Valid each and present
Partners in crime, codependent family structure with high disfunctional
communicaton skills, L-O-V-E spelled out many times like the sword of truth
and breastplate of righteousness.
Words were pitched and hurled then stroked like a fine persian cat with silken fur.
At the end of the day, with the word pile left in the floor like discarded dung; I
tucked my tail and departed. I hope against all odds that tomorrow will be a better
day and the grim reality of lost freedom will be swallowed with honey and accepted.
Instead of preparing for battle with gloves and sword. Until the stretched car takes
you away, be peaceful my love, L-O-V-E, spelled with emphasis on the OH OH.
My freedom is going quickly, along with my parents freedoms to chose and plan,
I will become responsible to see they get a bath, meals, medical care and to the
store. Will I have time for me?
Now I lay me down to sleep
I pray the lord my words to sweep
Away from the bitter heep
I pray the lord my heart to keep!