Best Relatives Poems
Oh, yes, Darling! Please meet me up the street, in fifteen minutes, right past the old tan house with that porch, bamboo.
We need to talk about things, you and me, without your mean relatives, and that includes your cousin Ted Stew.
I’d gladly trade this car for a completely untarnished marriage certificate, cleaned out of the day-old flu.
But, fiance’, dearest, you have yet to show me your love nest, your side honey, or your super-secret tattoo,
So now that you realize I might cost you money, you love me forever, and think you can let go and forget the Queen of Vooody-Voo- Doo?
Sure, Sweet Darling. Being pre reasonable, I would certainly like to review our marriageable status, and begin trusting you anew.
Of course, we had better hurry, so we get this trust thing sorted, and my family decides to re-include you,
I do not think any love-you-forever ceremony, fancy hall, or wedding vows I will seriously pursue.
If you decide to take the challenge, there on the steps wearing their juiciest smiles, are my mother, Grandma Kell and cousin Lou.
Sure, they do all have guns, permits, frying pans, and razors. Confidentially, they’re in a hum dinger of a stew about you too.
What more can I do, Sugar Bear? I’ve led you right to them, right up these pretty blue and white steps, and frankly, honey, it’s the best thing I could ever do.
So saying, I guess all my relatives are ready to talk and slap and pinch and punch, and fight and scrap, and kick, because they’re sort of mad you made me so blue.
Bye, Sweetie. I’m off for the weekend with my new honey, Rick, a gentle, kind, God-fearing man, who doesn’t want to stick around to see what they’re going to do.
Every Sunday after church
Old great-aunt Dora
Full bloodied Cherokee,
In her finest dress and fedora,
Drove her pink Cadillac
To the San Joaquin River.
She would stop in the same place
And sat on an old stump,
Under a camphor tree,
By the riverbank,
And would cast her fishing pool,
Drinking her moonshine liquor.
Old widow lady of ninety-two;
My dear mother-in-law
Lives by herself
With nothing else to do.
She sits in her chair
Next to the window
And stare out for hours
With dreams of her past.
She carries a small chrome plated,
Stud nose 22, pistol
With white pearl grips
In her purse.
Don't get in her way,
At the grocery store,
She will ram her cart
Into yours and say,
"Sorry I didn't see you."
Then there’s my sister.
“She’s crazy as a Loon;
Howls at the moon,”
My husband would say.
Her long-distance relationships
All in her mind.
Her husband
Doesn’t seem to mind,
But watches over her shoulder
When she cooks,
To make sure
Everything she uses
Is clean before he eats.
Their two daughters
Walked the same path.
Live in a world
Of hallucinations
And delusions,
In denial
Of their illness
Of schizophrenia.
11/19/2020
Six Relatives Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Caren Krutsinger
I was embarrassed for my gold-finding prowess was slim to none.
I lived alone, in a mushroom hut, built sloppily for one.
My leprechaun relatives were braggarts, and blowhards and mean.
The things they said to put me down were evil and obscene.
A friendly cardinal named Ed saw them for who they were.
He told me I had to get away, he gave me ideas to stir.
He showed me where Old Man Ligglie Howser buried all his gold.
The man was long-gone from the spot, in a home for the truly old.
I started digging up buckets of gold that very night.
I was careful to hide all of these pieces, clearly out of sight
I bought a red Ford 250 Truck with all the trimming.
I drove away from my relatives with gold pieces clearly brimming.
I gave a little gold to Magna-Fe, a shape-shifter-professional witch.
She changed Cardinal Ed into a handsome lad, although he had a slight twitch.
We married in a little church, in a ceremony so light.
Ed turns into a cardinal in the evenings, so he can do his finder-flight.
He finds the gold and I dig it up. These Leprechauns are so silly.
They use their gardens, throwing the cauldrons willy-nilly.
I have become famous in town, as the Leprechaun Gold-Finding Queen.
And I have wiped my feet of my relatives who were always truly mean.
Six relatives have I, all much like me.
The ones most common are WHICH, THAT and WHO.
There’s also WHOM. A formal dude is he.
WHOMEVER and WHOEVER I like too.
These relatives, with last name “Pronoun” are
quite important fellows, for their causes
include being descriptive. Each one’s a star
showing up to start adjective clauses.
Partial just to people is dear WHO,
WHOM, used less often, has a formal ring.
WHICH likes animals and things too.
THAT likes folks, animals or anything!
Having the distinction of universally
applying to people, the two that have this fun
are WHOEVER and WHOMEVER, but don’t forget me!
Unique am I. My name is WHOSE – the possessive one.
November 12, 2020
For Caren Krutsinger's Six Relatives Poetry Contest
My happy Aunt Petootie
comes clomping over.
Your mother says you write poetry now.
Her eyebrows are angry.
Uh-huh. I admit.
She is in full glare mode now.
Why?
Because I like it?
Diabolical laugh.
Hey, Glitzy, get over here!
Guess what Miss Funny-Duddy just said?
I inch out of their circle of hilarity,
wondering why I had allowed
my mother to talk me
into staying an
extra five minutes.
Here in the deep heart
of all this Christmas
love and cheer?
Poetry huh?
It is Uncle Malc-wood.
Aunt Petootie's husband.
I know I am not supposed to like him.
He is an out-law, after all, married in.
I glance down at my hands, barely nod.
My trust window is rapidly closing.
I wish I was an alligator being eaten by a cheetah.
My windows are boarding themselves
up, I am ready to go!
A gentle touch on my roof brings
my house-eyes-self upwards.
Uncle Malc-wood says, "Good for you!"
I guess I could stay another ten minutes.
My TV shows are already recorded after all.
He is a failure, my cousin Tee said.
How so?
He had two businesses, neither of them made it.
Yes, he is a loser, Cousin Dexter chimed in.
What were they?
A bakery, and a laundry mat.
So he can bake and do laundry! I said smartly. Sounds like a good catch.
They both laughed.
What does he do now? They did not know, so I found out.
He works at a Wal-mart, I told them. He is the manager.
So I asked them, “instead of a failure, would it be possible that he successfully
Eliminated two careers for one that is working for him now?”
My cousins looked at me.
You are odd, Dexter said. Tee nodded.
I smiled, proud to be odd.
The stranger is strange, pariah, leper sounds offbeat,
Neither truculent, nor relevant, all destined to encounter the doomed relic;
The bizarre outlander, alien to stimulate the instant pulse-beats!
The uninvited hobnobber, one despises to welcome in routine frolic.
The stranger is unsolicited, the object of latent fear,
As strange may be the ways of the unbidden ones' intentional cares!
The stranger is unfaithful: weird to tranquility, comfort and cheer,
For the sceptical one, we become anxious by a mere fateful encounter!
The stanger lies in our conscience; in a distant land in paradoxical disguise.
Masquerade, the image generates an uncanny fear to sigh!
Sounds delinquent to subjugate the wires of prudent conscience!
Nonetheless, cogitates as usurper of peace; an ineffable parti pris.
Self-centred, they are loquacious, spell bound like con stars;
Babbles from the masks, camouflages as the epitomes of pretenders.
Unknown, unfamiliar, stirs alarms not to mingle, to be away, to be cautious.
In disguise, comes the alleged stanger to ruin ones' peace to shudder and shatter.
But the most alarming of all preconceived archetypes, are the strangers:
Who lingers on, as routine friends and well wishers,
On whom we doted on, are the real dear strangers,
Who by feigning friends, acted quisling, an obvious stranger!
'Hold!' sometimes left us dumbfounded with their insensible fickle deeds;
Even when the unknown stanger might spare and stand by us in awful needs!
When our intimate ones deny to wink at the distress;
While busy in spilling the beans, our woes go unnoticed by the feigned well-wishers.
Indeed! They are the untagged apparent strangers, fugitives in our trials.
Beware of those strangers, whom we adore as near and dear ones, 'bosom friends,'
the agnates and cognates, to entitle the crown, “an actual stranger" who elopes in tmes of miseries!
All Rights Reserved © Silpika Kalita
Here are six tales of six relatives of mine
Now all have passed in the passage of time
Mostly seen through the eyes of a child
Poetic licence used for I’m no Oscar Wilde
~~~
Aunt Ada and Aunt Edie were a scary pair for me
Ada wore a real live fox fur dangling from her neck
And as a child I really thought this is where it slept
Of course it was not breathing as the poor thing it was dead
But nothing could convince me ~ for to me it was asleep instead
Edie was Ada’s companion or that is how it seemed
Much smaller in stature she walked behind Ada
Who strutted ahead when her mind it was set
Each day Ada dressed in her Astrakhan coat
And walked to her ‘bookies’ where she placed her daily bet
~~~
Another scary person whom I only met the once
A cruel step mother came to stay
When I saw her face I ran away
Her face was pointed
Her nose was too
Her countenance a paler shade of blue
And with her came her daughter too
A spookier pair I never knew
From whence that day the day they came
Their names we never spoke again
~~~
My dearest Grandpops ~ loved him lots
A character through and through
He wore a black beret perched upon his head
With a loosely tied dickie bow draped round his neck
A master magician with his performing dog named Win
Performing caricatures by his favourite Dickensian
Wishing he was here ~ passed in his 84th year
Wanting many answers to questions unasked
For the young have no time for to stop and to hear
When young, one can be so selfish I fear
And that is the reason I wish he was here
~~~
An uncle in the navy spent months away at sea
Like Father Christmas he returned ~ I sat upon his knee
His knapsack overflowed with gifts for family and for me
Exotic lace and silk and dolls and fancy fans and herbal tea
Ivory figures large and small he'd bring from a foreign land
He would sit for hours spinning yarns of the Orient exotic and grand
~~~
his visits stopped so suddenly no more gifts were sent
to this very day I have no inkling where my uncle went
Written 15th November 2020
Contest Six relatives
Sponsor Caren Krutsinger
FIRST PLACE
Contest ALL YOURS POETRY
Sponsor Brian Strand
FIRST PLACE
Six relatives
shell upon shell of relationships
Each layer has its function
Even hens keeps the family in order
My sister Lina and I
are completely different
only a leaf thin wall
separates the laughter from the tears
She is hypersensitive
but incredibly friendly and caring
Frank my brother is my best friend,
he's dear to talk to
We likes to spend
many hours together every day
A special friendship that lasts a lifetime
Aunt Astrid and Uncle Sigmund
is always to be trusted in thick and thin
although I have barely seen them in five years
Sofie and Silje are twins
and my cousins
Have you ever met
someone who never stops talking
They talk all times,
whether they gets an answer or not
Humorous remarks, they are incredible
Gives everything of itself, own experiences,
personal anecdotes, memories and observations
Lots of bubbles and laughter
Some times I wonder on the coincidences in life
We depend on each other, and we need each other
Although we are completely different
20.11.2020
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
¯\_(O O)_/¯
(fictional poem)
Albert Einstein took a shine
To time and space mobility
And called it Relativity.
His gray sweater baggy,
And his blue eyes bright.
Peppered hair shaggy—
The professor looked a fright.
Soon Einstein gained fame
In a clever physics game,
E=MC2 bore his name.
Admirers praised Relativity,
The Quantum Theory Laws,
The Photon Theory of Light,
And felt he deserved applause.
But what about all those calculations
Of Relativity spread?
My cousins are my relations,
They can figure that in their head!
Lending Money to Relatives
By Elton Camp
Most every family, of bums, has one or two
He’s in a tight and doesn’t know what to do
“I really hate to ask to borrow some dough.
I promise that I’ll promptly repay, though.”
He asks because his credit rating is near zero
Hopes it will be hard to refuse one you know
“Even though you might not lend to another,
You surely can’t refuse to help your brother.”
What he hopes for may well come to be so
To one’s own relative it is hard to say no
Actually the loan to repay isn’t his intention
What you lent, he will never again mention
He will waste your money with great delight
As if to your hard-earned funds he has a right
That he will permanently avoid you, never fear
When funds run low, he will again come near
So if your money you want to be certain to lose
To lend to a relative is what you should choose
I lived my truth and rode it as far toward the sun as I could
But we got too close and the wax melted
When I fell to earth I fell hard
Realizing there are other truths
You did not have to let me land on my head I told whoever
Whoever laughed, being a committee that does not listen to commoners
It was the first time I realized they cared enough about me to laugh.
This gave me a new sense of purpose.
I will create new truths I vowed
And I will publish them and people will listen
My relatives were on the floor laughing and shrieking.
They are always the last to appreciate me
No biggie
My old Aunt Neva
Loved to shop
In the 3-7-9 store
For small-girl outfits
To wear on her arms.
In Jesus nails I doubt but
it doesn't make me less faithful
therefore
for a gram of material glory
I'm swapping
freshly delivered Virgin Mary's proclamations
just this morning
she confirmed to me
the time of broadcasting
even though she is pissed off
because of the leakage of one of her favorite messages
which says that for earning a seat in the first row next to the altar
you have to wear a proper hat
but
in christian spirit
she gave up of criminal prosecution
only thing she ever wanted is to give people God's word
and
she did it
to the threadbare knees and questions about working hours of the Lord
within TV schedule
the prime time was given
world became televised
one big cinema screen where
everyone is trying to plug in their own scenarios
yesterday God went on holidays
so
loosed from any common sense
public opinion was divided by two pieces of a modern thought
by one was spoken a shaved truth
how is possible to be promoted by having a child
from call girl to pillar of society
by second one was brought in question an honor of favorite croatian people's hole
F*** it
in accordance with a label of nation
which is highly ranked on global moral scales
our every national debate
regularly ends with polemics about
the crotch.
raise your two fingers one that
at least once in her life didn't lay down with a pig
When I shun people easily at will
When relatives and friends get alienated
When finding time for others is no priority
When dropping schedules no longer matter
When not keeping standards don’t mean a thing
When attention span has lost its stretch
When listening to others is no longer wholesome
When others views and opinions
Good or bad go for a toss
When thoughts about siblings
and their company feels good
When loneliness gives peace
When being oneself brings happiness
When self becomes significant
When expecting attention
becomes an expression of right
When hobbies become priorities
When compliments bring in joy
and are often sought
When being served food feels special
When being given a lift feels great
When being given importance assures a lot
When what others think is right has to be accepted
When silence is a easy option
When what others say is becomes the right thing,
When others presume what is uttered by self is outdated
I guess it happens to everyone, everywhere
Be it in the past, in the present or future too
Aging is a common phenomenon
Others see the physical change
The mind actually doesn’t feel so
Attitude and personality hang in forever
Yet the impairment is undeniable
Sometimes short tempered;
Many times touchy and meek
Often bypassing the falling respect and regard
I guess that is what is ‘getting old all about’
And everyone reaches that point
Sooner or later, but for sure”