Best Uncle Poems
“Grief is like the ocean. The waves ebb and flow. Sometimes the water is calm. Other times it's turbulent. In order to survive, I had to learn to swim. In moments when I struggled with massive waves of grief, I rode it out.”
Dana Arcuri
When the pearl moon is sinking
and the sea dreams in silence,
when the skies reflect
the sunrise within sighs,
I close my eyes and unlock
my grieving heart.
There, your sincere smile glows
like a string of golden pearls,
and your song, an echoing melody,
while jasmine rain croons
into the mourning mists.
And I whisper to the stars:
show me what it's like in heaven,
where angels and fairies
sway to your vanilla laughter,
for I am still healing from
the shadows of your demise.
I remember,
I was a teenage tempest
dressed in crusts of raven,
but you saw
unicorns and butterflies
soaring above
whirling waves of angst.
and wove my darkness
with acrylic glitter.
You were the antidote
to my bleeding ink.
you were the sakura spring
among my tattered twigs,
you watched me laugh
into the gothic duskiness.
Somehow seeking fireflies
within my summer maze,
did illuminate your weathered time,
like rainbow roses,
engrossed in emerald empathy.
You always knew the
right phrase to rhyme,
subtle syllables to
write every wrong.
You were my comfort
on lonely days.
The uncle, I cherish,
so young and charismatic…
Orchids in your
orchard still sprout~
flaunting their colors
in your mauve memory,
and your seraphic aura lingers
as the magnetic essence
of eternal warmth.
Now I am draped in
mementos and euphonious wind-chimes,
emanating the fragrance
of evergreen grass and soulful sunflowers.
Someday, I will find my way
to your empyrean home,
where you reside in poetry and affection…
He lived in a small place down by the river
Raised a few chickens and a garden to tend
Neat and clean but we knew he had little
But to us children he was a dear friend
Always ready to come play our silly games
Or happy to listen to our childish tales of woe
He knew when and where the fish were biting
His wonderful tall tales he was glad to bestow
He rode into town on his old cow names Irene
She didn’t seem to mind at times being a horse
If it rained he carried a big black umbrella
It was a sight to see, we loved it of course
You can imagine , our parents thought him odd
And I guess he was if the whole truth be told
But he was a special part of out young lives
We wouldn’t have traded him for a bucket of gold…
Believe it or not, this is a true story..
10/23/14
Barbara Gorelick- Sketch a Character contest
Looking Back Long Ago
We had been looking back long ago
While time crept by seeming so slow;
Distance between time kept spreading;
May do something they were dreading.
On a broad beach boots hit the sand,
After looking at sight of a lonely land;
On shore was blowing a light breeze;
Exposed enemy on hills and up in trees.
Explosions and bullets sounded so loud;
Later that day heads would be bowed
Thanking God that He let them survive;
Being in one piece and remaining alive.
At Normandy we each dutifully performed
When the troops on shore had all stormed
Only thing which was left that remained
Had been blown to bits or blood-stained.
PVT Lester E. Deschler Died July 12th, 1944
in a tank explosion. He is now buried at
Normandy America Cemetery and Memorial.
Am unsure if he was an uncle or great-uncle
of Ms. Kelley Deschler a Poetry Soup lover.
James Thomas Horn, Retired Veteran
http://www.thepetitionsite.com/188/569/134/a-snowball-for-peace/#
Make sure that you have signed peace petition at above website.
In Arras field he watched that day
A flash of light against the grey,
High explosives whistled all around
And fallen thousands filled the ground.
Kentish man against the wall,
He had defended to the last;
A fleeting life--
So briefly did it pass.
One of the Lost generation of World War ONE 1918
Steel resolution, made a thousand times
To reach across black rift between closed hearts
Carefully constructed, a thousand lines
Rose incantation, enchanted restart
Dim hourglass of the blind excuse dancer
Clings desperately to its final grains
Dark wolf’s mouth slavers, he smells your cancer
Speak now, or forever we keep these pains
Knock on your door, thunderous echoes fade
Younger guilt and fear restrain me no more
Resolve not weakened, steady hand not stayed
Blade drains poison, flowing blood you ignore
One thing stands clear at your onrushing end:
It takes just one to break, but two to mend.
4/26/16
©
He lies in peace beneath this tree
where death by shock came suddenly.
That thunderbolt struck Uncle Tom-
he faced the storm before the calm.
April 16, 2019
Premiere Contest: Your Best Light-Verse Poetry
Sponsor:L Milton Hankins
1963.
I ran crying to Uncle Jim, standing by the barn door.
We hugged, and I tried to hold the smell of him,
of Vermont -- Old Spice, oatmeal, rotting leaves in crisp October air.
"Oh, kid, you and me, kid ... you and me," he said.
But the car was waiting, all packed.
My grandparents yelled one more time, to come.
He stood alone, waving goodbye, his head held
to one side, a war injury.
Perhaps that's why he drank.
Or maybe it was living so far away from us,
in a wild place, where snow is measured in feet.
On winding roads, I cried for two hours, through valleys of orange and yellow and graveyards of granite, where men with stovepipe hats and ladies with hoop skirts lay side by side underneath the green.
Through my window, I counted the steep, pitched roofs.
Cows of black and white and brown.
Was Uncle Jim, by now surely in his house watching snowy TV, crying, too?
1975.
Uncle Jim is dead, at least he told me so, as he stood by my bed one night.
Even now, when I think of Uncle Jim, and how he held me, what he said to me in 1963,
I could cry.
My uncle was a vegan
Back before that was a word.
As kids, we always found
His eating habits quite absurd.
His veggies he refused to cut
So there upon his plate
Were carrots, leaves and peppers –
We could really not relate.
Especially because that meal
Was on Thanksgiving Day.
We stuffed our faces, laughing at
His colorful display.
If he were still alive today
He wouldn’t seem so odd,
Though I’m sure the turkeys way back then
Considered him a god.
Promised a honey baked life by Uncle Sam,
a V.A. loan, and a mini-van.
Three kids and a fenced yard.
It should be attainable to those who
worked so hard.
They served, they sacrificed as mother's wept,
came home to be forgotten to a government
that's inept..
Our unsung hero's who fought gallantly, are
supposed to be our nations first priority..
Dedicated to my dear uncle who passed away recently
Grief permeates throughout the place
and enters into the veins of my hand
as I take out my pen and sit
to ink my mournful thoughts into words
in dedication to you, dear beloved uncle.
The benevolent smile on your face
every time you greeted us to your home,
the kindness you showered upon us, and
the generosity with which you treated us
whenever we visited you at our native place
I could never ever forget.
Sweet fragrances from the blossoms of memories
of such endearing moments you gifted us
still linger in my heart.
To think that you are no longer among us
takes my mind for a moment
to the dark seas of bereavement.
Yet, I know, I have to accept the reality,
for, life can be of unforeseen happenings.
Tonight, when I would look up at the sky
and see the several millions of stars
am sure to notice one particular star
that would shine as bright as your smile.
I once knew a crazy old man Uncle Hanky P. Hunk.
He had the dirtiest house, the drabbest bunk.
I think that he was often kind of drunk.
His bedding was full of icky sticky gunk.
Once in wandered a tiny black and white skunk.
He fell on the floor with a loud heavy thunk.
Did that even wake Uncle Hanky Hunk?
No. He was asleep next to his traveling trunk.
Did you hear that thud? It was a giant clunk
I said to my sister, who was in a moody funk.
I did not, she said. But look at this awesome junk!
A treasure trove unless you find a scared little skunk
(Record scratch, a cool, jazzy beat drops - think late-night NYC)
Yo, lemme set the scene, the park bench, twilight's glow Yeah, she bad, I can't help but let it show He-he bad too, that's my reflection, lookin' fly With my boo, chillin' beneath the NYC sky White Castle spread, a feast fit for us two Fries dipped in vanilla, tell me what else to do? Cheesecake stick, for that sweet, perfect taste Old school love, no time to go to waste
She bad, like a fly chick in a movie scene, you see Smooth like silk, yeah, that’s my queen, you feel me? We bumpin’ old school, Amazon Music, gettin’ our vibe "U Send Me Swingin'" on repeat, keepin' us alive (Beat pauses slightly, a few bars of the "U Send Me Swingin" vocal sample play, then beat continues)
Yo, this ain't no fairy tale, this is real, you know The kind of love that makes your spirit grow Like a graffiti wall in Bushwick, bold and bright She got me feelin' like I'm baskin' in pure light We talkin' life, dreams, while the city hums No need for the fake, no sugar coated hums Just raw and real, beneath the moon's embrace This ain't no fling, this love I can't replace
She bad, that’s the truth no cap, she’s the type That makes a real man forget all the hype Like a bodega on a Saturday, always open She my everything, the way she keep it hopin’ We sippin' shakes, talkin’ ‘bout future plans My heart’s in her hands, like a sand in her hands Just laughin’ loud, no pretenses, just us This is timeless love, built on honest trust
He-he bad, yeah, I step with confidence, refined But with her by my side I leave my ego behind Flowin' smooth like the Hudson River at dawn She's the sunrise in my life, finally reborn So I pull her closer, feelin' that sweet sway Got me swingin' for that love, every single day We the illest couple, in this Concrete Jungle, it goes She got my heart swingin', every time she blows Me a kiss that is, my one and only boo That's why I keep it real, for me and you
(Beat fades out with layered vocal samples of "swingin'")
He came in loud and proud, Uncle Harry.
We were glad our aunt Tee he did marry.
We liked him almost instantly, and well.
He always had the best stories to tell.
Until the cancer came into his life
Quickly wiped away so much of his strife
Ruining things and making us so mad.
Utterly defeated that he was so bad.
Written 11-9-2019
Contest: 8 Lines of Rhyme
Sponsor: Tania Kitchin
A husband, a father, an uncle, a son
A soldier, a brother, a man and a boy
Never one or the other, united, just one
His boyhood was lost too soon in the war
His manhood affected by all that he saw
His dotage came early, yet longevity reigned
He shed tears for his father, shed tears for his son
The tears of a man cried by a boy
Tears for the boy wept by the man
Haunted by a past he longed to forget,
Surrounded by the life that somehow seemed set
Yet speeding towards a future he was unwilling to greet
Hidden within the old man’s body, bravely the boy still lived
And for a fleeting moment a glint in his eye revealed,
In the innocence of youth his carefree spirit prevailed
UNCLE
under a tree family stories fell to me
next to my uncle the world was opened wide
combatting smiles and tears he told them carefully
little ears are delicate through mayhem suicide
ever watching for my mom, who’d stop him in mid stride