maybe she has a mental illness, he suggested
I cannot discuss her with you, I told him.
She is not your cousin, you do not realize.
She has been through such trauma.
More than most have at fifteen.
She might be a scorpion,
lashing out, twisting her tail, stinging people
but she is my cousin, my scorpion.
I will defend her now and forever
for I know her other sides.
There are many.
She can be empathetic, kind and loving.
She has a tender heart.
This is why she lashes out first,
So she will not get hurt again.
Close together, we chat.
Relatives, cousins - our mothers: the twins.
In the wind, ghosts;
we speculate.
We wonder while we
chitchat and munch.
Distant memories
of practical jokes, tokes;
days before she ran away;
& not questioning her
upon her return.
Sitting on my lavender bedspread;
laughing, listening; forlorn-ing.
Her i.d. tags, army surplus look,
blonde hair; my long locks, dark brunette.
In the Summer week,
we speculate on ghosts;
something we know nothing about.
We stood, took turns
standing over his coffin -
her brother joked
to relieve the tense.
All together, our gang;
our mother’s brother was twenty-five…
My cousin was fifty-two;
in the wind, ghosts,
I’ve surpassed
speculation, leans differently today,
knowing one day,
this world will fade,
as another comes into view.
Close together, we’ll chat,
as relatives speculate.
After he died, I'm always drinking.
After she died, I'm always smoking.
Because what use is a life worth living
If I cannot numb the grief I am feeling.
After he died, I'm always wondering
What could've been if everything was improving.
After she died, I'm always being
A better person for those worth loving.
After he died, I was always crying
About how he could have gone on living.
After she died, I was always questioning
If the addictions we have are worth anything.
After he died, I wondered why it's worth continuing
The legacy he left behind, but it's not for nothing.
After she died, I wonder if I held any meaning
In her life that was so sadly so fleeting.
After he died, I learned how to keep living
My own life despite my heart's grieving.
After she died, I learned how life has meaning
Even when we feel there is nothing but suffering.
6/10/2025
Dearest Cousin Yolanda~
Ponderings on our days so very long ago,
When we were the stars of our parents’ lifelong show.
How proud they were to have us at their side!
We were precious and cared for, like angels with sweet smiles
I saw you blossom from a charming, sweet, little girl.
Your mother loved and cared for you, like an expensive, shiny pearl.
I see you as the same diamond child that you once so happily were.
Love,
Cousin Pangiota
Blue ribbon excellence she said with glee
Judging a cherry pie made just for me
Crust as sweet and flaky as it should be
I love the baked goods of my cousin Vee
Lithe lime faerie was a cousin to Lucy Lemon.
They were both young girls, only six or seven.
Flying in tandem, showing the garden their scents.
The were both lovely, most said heaven-sent.
A squab, a squid, a squishy stump
A troll, a gnome, a stick, a chump
How else to describe my cousin Bump?
You see, he also is a bit of a chump
Some women control their men
We tried to warn our cousin Flynn
He was quickly taken in
By a widow named Lucy Kin
Lucy Kin was slick you see
Has ways as wily as can be
He fell under her spells easily
She was as nasty as could be
Flynn never goes out with the boys
Lucy has taken all of his toys
He is very quiet, makes no noise
She is a deceiver with deceptive poise
Another Soul just got his wings
Another Angel gloriously sings
From this land a soul flies free
Burdens are lifted, rise does he
To new adventures, no pain just Love
where he can watch from stars above
Time was up on this Earthly plane
but happy memories will always remain.
He is a lallapaloosa, a Jim-dandy
But crafty and wise, so he came in handy
He could do electrical work and carpentry
Worked all day, never slacked off at three
He’s a good boy, his mother said to all
Lanky, lean and loved, was my cousin Paul
He bibbled and burped and barfed at meals
Might as well have been eating toasted eels
The rest of us said what a weirdo he was
Our loud eating cousin, Charles McDuzz
You have this great idea.
Why not let me be your everything?
You will no longer be accountable or responsible
For your actions, words or deeds.
I will be your wife, mother, cousin, sister, whatever.
You can point to me when things go wrong.
I will be the scapegoat, the whipping boy.
You can meander through the valley of life unscathed
If you are sad, worried or depressed, it will be my fault
I am queen of your world now, you are blameless and faultless
If I am thrown into a dungeon, that is on me.
A sinking log, because I allowed you to make me your everything.
thinks she is witty
sarcasm her daily fare
a nonfriend maker
cannot help her barbs
alienates all she meets
my cousin betty
This year will be very challenging and through it we must trust God even more.
Throughout history, challenges has been and through it all we are the results of it. The devil challenged Christ and we are result of Him winning the battle and passing it down to all who would believe.
In the family of God are many who are changing the world. And everyone who would believes are the result of it all.
So, let all of us put aside that which don't belong and pick that which God has given to us to do because the time is short before the coming of the Lord. But you maybe saying people have been saying that throughout history and nothing happening. Well, when you or I die, that time of ours has come. Look at 2024, which shows the results. God has no respect of person, but He does have respect of FAITH.
Let us all trust God even more this year than the pass years and our rewards will be there waiting. I hope this make sense of what I am trying to say.
Happy New Year 2025 and let us allow the word of our mouth be accepted in the site of God through Christ Jesus.
A cat sits on a chair
and hovers over me
as I lie in bed.
It’s December 31st
as a soft rain falls.
As I get up
I ask myself
if this is
an ending or beginning.
I’ve been back in town
full-time for five years
but embrace memories
of highways travelled
throughout the Midwest
when I worked
for road construction crews.
Now I’m left with my poems.
Bare limbs in the yard next door
wave and dance in the wind
beneath the cover of grey skies.
The cat brushes against me and mews
and I know it wants to be fed.
I take it downstairs
and fill a dish on the floor.
It eats in the kitchen while I call
my older cousin and we peer
into our younger lives.
When asked I said
if given the chance
I say
I’d live my life again.
Outside the window
rain has turned to snow
and the dormant yard
bears the change of weather.
Specific Types of Cousin Poems
Definition | What is Cousin in Poetry?