Best Grown Poems
In the end, we were there-not there,
two present absentees
sharing an apartment vacated by a relationship
and the worst kind of loneliness -- feeling solitary next to someone --
partners in the crime of abetting mutual misery,
though neither of us can really be linked
to the crime scene, can we?
We’ve got each other’s alibi.
Little Man Grown
8/18/2023
Thirteen years ago, he picked up a bat!
In love, he knew where his future was at.
In Major League Baseball, you get it?
Six-feet, tall now, he can really, hit it!
But this Grandma, misses her little tyke,
Who rode a tricycle and flew a silver kite.
He’ s a player on junior varsity these days.
And in other states, baseball with joy, plays!
‘Let the honor and the money of your friend
be as dear to you as your own’*
~ speaks of friendship fully grown
____________________________________________________
*A combination-condensation of two statements
in the Talmud: Pirkey Avos 2: 15 & 17
Grown men today will always complain
About how much their paid a wage
When the same men in their lane are paid
At the same rate but dont say anyway.
As I've grown older, I've found,
that my body has gotten more round,
as I try it,
another new diet,
I always add another pound.
A Soul grown cold repenting for the lies to come,
lays cast in addiction laced stains of anguished fantasies.
With a tortured logic knowing the only way out is further in,
the Beast awaits its dawn, waking only to be fed again.
A circle that never arcs, scheming to envisage a new identity.
Withered and weary pretenses that are no longer attended,
never ending till the last taste is savored.
Maybe tomorrow...
02/26/2020
Behind the rigid curve of my forehead
a flower has grown.
Petals are blooming beneath the bone.
My days, my pains, and all my love
are tucked inside the folds.
Pink and white and gray, and contained.
Fed by the light that fills my eyes.
Fed by touch and sound.
The universe in a flower.
The universe, in me, bound.
And so I feel.
I ache. I glow.
And I'm sure I'll never know
how can a universe blossom and fade?
and where will this universe go?
Lauren
Over the weekend our two youngest grandchildren came to our house to stay
(the two older ones no longer live at home and their parents were away).
We laughed, we ate, we walked, we danced
they played on our computer in between
and we noticed, after we returned them home,
they’d left their fingerprints on its screen.
And when we saw their fingerprints we sighed
thinking how the moments they now stay with us are few…
how they’ve grown up so quickly…
Wasn’t it only yesterday when they were 2?
With the two older grandchildren off at college
and the the two youngest growing fast
we try our best, when we get together,
to make each moment last…
Their lives now take them in different directions
to different places…new routines
and we wait patiently with net in hand…
to capture moments in between…
Which is why we have decided to preserve
this latest moment in between…
to make it last a little longer…
and keep their fingerprints on our screen.
The sky's slate gray
It's rained all day
Though children can't go out
They don't sit around and pout
Kids paint, they draw
They learn to cook
Curl up with their favorite book
So, if ever rain dampens your grown-up mood
Activate the child in you ~ Don't sit and brood
There's a sound in the silence you cannot hear
That reaches your soul and erases the fear
There's a sound in volume of music to dry tears
After the song is done that everyone hears
And when that last bit of strength disappears,
A new seed is grown and a flower appears
Heidi Sands
7/823
I can sing you a lullaby that could comatose an insomniac
Like the landing of a butterfly a rose would welcome this contact
My voice sprinkles her with relaxation the sandman could'nt match
Her eyes twinkle with admiration like birds when their eggs hatch
The soft aroma of vanilla intertwined with jasmine fills the air
A few coronas as a summers night wind blows through her hair
Time seems to stop as if a deity entered the scenario
Those eyelids drop as a cello escapes the stereo
Her pillow overjoyed exhaled feathers that would shame a peacock
A sparrow was deployed from heaven with such a divine restock
A sleeping beauty in a trance only broken by pure intentions
A dream with visions of romance she'll probably never mention.
Sha'ntez Jefferson
10/23/12
She's getting ready
Prom night finally is here
orchid pinned on dress
Nervous anticipation
Attempting to be grown up
As
the days
move forward
Winter slowly
dies
and
from its'
ashes grow
the blossoms of
Spring
My hands were busy through the day I didn't have much time to play the little games you asked me to, I didn't have much time for you. I'd wash your clothes and your hair, then I'd sew and cook with a care, but when you'd bring your picture book to share the fun look in your eyes as I dare say a little later son. I'd tuck you into your warm bed all safe and sound. I would read you a bed time story and then gently stroke my hand across your head slowly, I'd sit there beside you listening to your heart beating while you sleep then I'd turn out your light and whisper in your ear I love you good night my son. For life is short and the years rush past us, and my little boy grows up so fast. So all the picture books are put away and there are no longer games to play, and no more good night kisses. My hands once busy, but now are still, the days are long and hard to fill without you it's lonely in heart but another day will pass that I wish the little things you asked me to I should of done, I'm sorry I love you my son.
Hand Grown In Thyme.
On Brummie Sea and Burnley oak,
In bearded wood and clove
I hidey in this Mutton cloth
That strangles like a choke.
Lampooned upon this Ferris wheel,
A chuckle for a hoot.
I swung with empty boxing glove
And knocked a joke aboot.
I thank you from my Uncles chin
And dear old Auntie Pat
Who did asunder to a sin
And dogged her pussycat!
They trundled stubborn as a toe
And caring not a care
Sent humphing parties to and fro
Though knew not who they were.
‘Bejees!’ I crippled all a goat
What finery I’ve found,
Four friends in foursome charging free-
A bargain at a pound.
‘Well fancy that,’ a woman sat,
And bending like a river
Weaved not a spell but nasty smell
And sent me all a quiver.
‘How come you like to gape alewd?’
I asked but half an inch.
To which the Lady took a fence
And hit me with a pinch.