Long Edie Poems
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"Somewhere there's somebody who looks just like you do
Acts just like you, too, feels the same way
Somewhere there's a person in a faraway place
With a different name and a face that looks like you"
- Edie Brickell, The Wheel.
From the sixth floor of my office, there are three birds sitting on the top of my car. I wonder what they talk about all this time.
The sun sinks down, reclusive from the longer days.
The heat dips lower, slipping into moderate moodiness.
The shadows grow long, longer than my blond hair, which was dyed two months ago. My dark roots are stubborn, still showing.
While I work, a what could be me slips past me. It chirps a polite excuse me, while I make copies.
Glancing down I notice my shoe is untied.
My perfume of tang and green tea lingers one step behind her.
My skin trembles
I feel the air from the polite stranger, turning around I see she is draped in costly clothes. Black from head to toe.
In my mind, my hands grasp at the threads.
They are thin but strong, they do not break.
Grabbing at the chance of making it out of the doors before they shut.
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
.
yuh can't just
walk in on me like that
sit down girl
take thuh rest uv
your yourn
your
cheeze cloth off
it'll only stick to that
mohair
shhhhhh
now whut's
this
ooops
hi eve ( ')
remember amber
i were just admire'n
hern
"let me see edvard'
'mhm'
'you get up
early girly"
she were just leaving
eve
"I'll help her with
her hisss
her
veery pretty mhmm
see thru
frock"
"Okaaay
By Edie
by
Eve honey"
* ') amber'z only allow'd tuh deliver
thuh eggz on thuh porch from
thence on ,)>
UNDER THE GLASS CEILING part 1
Mary and Angelica ,ladies of great renown
Painters extraordinaire in Ol' London town
Still life,portraits & history on a grand scale-
Left out of a group painting because they were not male !
NOTE Mary Moser & Angelica Kauftmann help to found the R & A but were left out of the 1770's painting of Academicians .There were to be no other women members until 1922.
UNDER THE GLASS CEILING part 2
Forbears,Edie,Kate and Ann
furnished with brush and pan.
Each a Victorian 'Miss'
tied in service's abyss.
NOTE Upstairs and down stairs ,no in between,just thirteen and just there to please as Master and Lady take their ease.
THROUGH THE GLASS CEILING
Deborah,God annointed Judge&Prophetess
a matriarch,overseer of men,..no less;
Mary,at Jesus feet,studied...just as a man
in Christ there is no gender ban
Born in January of thirty-five,
Down Six Mile Road the stork flew by.
The parlor was opened, bed moved in and heated
In anticipation of the bundle of joy named Edith
Her childhood home still stands today,
A witness to memories along the way.
She’s passed that house a thousand times,
Each visit brings nostalgia’s chimes
A waft of scent, a sunset’s hue,
A song that brings the past in view.
In a heartbeat, she’s back once more,
To laughter, tears, and days of yore.
God’s timing marked by the birthdays here
The fifteenth, sixteenth, seventeenth revere
A lineage sprawling, hard to count
Birthdays and Christmases, with many about.
Stories aplenty, tales to unfurl,
From decades spent within this world.
Ninety years—what yarns she’s spun,
Of times forgotten, and days begun.
Family gatherings, joy and pain,
Births and marriages, sunshine and rain.
Farewells whispered, goodbyes said,
And always the smell of homemade bread.
She pauses now, takes a deep breath,
Reflects on friendships, life, and the bereft.
Some gone before, some still remain,
Coffee companions meet each day
And as these verses find their close,
One promise stands, a faith she chose:
Choose this day Whom you will serve
With steady heart and steadfast Word.
As for her house, they’ll serve the Lord
Firecrackers will ever crack,
And you will always have my back.
Do you think, when we took that car,
We might have gone a bit too far?
I don't think when you drove that loop,
We went too far with the coupe.
Anyway, there's no way to prove -
You see, the tires did not move.
We need not be doing time -
Dancing to Dorsey is no crime.
Tires not moving, it was hearsay -
No crime to dance to Jimmy Dorsey.
I could say the very same
Of dancing to Harry James.
I like Glen Miller! D'ya know a
Place we can do the Balboa?
Country bike rides, sharing clothes -
What wonderful times were those!
We shared them with our kid brother
Who hit one pitch after another.
Just three kids out in the sticks -
Edie, Esther, Buddy Hicks.
As I remember, I was about six years old
the day Aunt Edie babysat.
Why weren't any of my brothers home?
Was Mom stressed with me? Maybe that.
We talked for many hours about everything,
all that was on my mind.
I had never known a lady to be
so patient, gentle, and kind.
Later, my mom said that my aunt was surprised
I had so much to say,
because my mom said I was painfully quiet.
In essence, my aunt said, "no way".
My aunt took me out for lunch on that sunny day.
We sat outside together.
With pieces of tortilla from my first burrito,
we fed our friends with feathers.
Next, we went to buy some colorful flowers.
We agreed they were pretty,
as was the green grass we saw next
in the quiet cemetery.
She grew pensive, contemplative and subdued
as she placed each bloom.
I joined her in quiet observance and smelled
the blossoms' sweet perfume.
For me, it felt like I had been honored
to share in her grief
for a husband, long since dead,
as a gentle breeze blew a leaf.
The man was not her current husband,
the uncle known to me.
Years later my mom said I must be mistaken.
It was her grandpa we went to see.
Could be she was right about that -
I was only six years old.
But I will forever remember that day,
a memory to have and hold.
Forbears,Edie,Kate and Ann furnished apiece with brush and pan.Each
Victorian 'Miss' tied in service's abyss.Far off days,now long gone,their toil each
day was lengthy and long.With fires to light,floors to scrub,and carpets to brush
and drub.Mops forbidden,as they smeared the dirt and begrimed their prim
alpaca aproned skirt.They cleaned 'his' tub,emptied 'her' commode,a regular
chore in a housemaid's daily load.Must rise at six but never to mix and no matter
what,keep a stiff upper lip.Never lose your cool,a formal curtsey the perpetual
rule.Half day off once per month,so free to roam and catch the omnibus home.No
other opportunities in store except a marriage at eighteen or before.Upstairs and
down stairs ,no in between,starting out at just thirteen and just there to please as
Master and his Lady take their ease.
You were born in 1919 in Trenton, New Jersey,
Television would be your medium for comedy.
Your first appearance to the public was in 1950.
This was an early morning show broadcast by NBC
Preceding “The Today Show”, it was called “Three to Get Ready”.
Over the next several years, you would be seen on TV
on many different shows on both NBC and ABC.
From Philadelphia and New York with your wife Edie,
you entertained countless numbers with brilliant comedy.
musical trio of gorillas from Nairobi,
along with many of your different characters would be
appearing on your shows that boosted your popularity.
Poet Percy Dovetonsils was someone we would often see.
With his thick glasses, he would read us some funny poetry.
Many television viewers saw you with a cigar.
With your wife Edie Adams, your career certainly went far.
As well as television, you made several movies.
A car accident was the cause of your fatal injuries.
This happened just before your birthday in 1962.
Since January the thirteenth of that year, we have missed you.
Humming as she arranges an assortment of biscuits
On pastel green plates,
(Viennese waltz)
Beryl checks the clock ticking softly, three thirty,
“Come along, Shannon”,
Her young charge steps in alongside her
As Beryl works the care home rooms.
Teas and coffees, counterclockwise,
In the waltz of the afternoon tea trolley.
Beryl choreographs and guides as they go,
“Now, remember Reenie is partial
to the vintage charm of a custard cream,
Whereas Doris will go for a fig roll –
Sturdy with a hidden sweetness,
That surprises,
And Edie will tell you her stories twice -
Will want for the Twix.”
Shannon pours teas into proper cups with proper saucers
As they glide over to Ballroom Blanche,
“Danced through life haven't you, love”,
Beryl adds in whisper,
“Blanche can seem a bit crisp around the edges,
But she's really quite a softee – sweet,
She leans to Viennese whirl”.
Shannon adds two sugars,
Twirls the spoon in the cup
As she hands silent Marjorie
in her beige cardy,
A malted milk.
They reverse turn to the sun filled lounge.
Jammy dodgers with heart-shaped windows
Are shared by Norma and Dierdre
Receiving bouquets of babbies in bonnets,
Children gathered
to see their great nannies.
And by the window looking out,
Connie,
For whom standards never slip,
In wig, pearls, red lip,
Takes the Florentine of glamour.
Young Shannon turns in awe to Beryl asking,
“How do you remember who has what?”
Beryl smiles, and with mock curtsy,
She blushes
“What am I to say?
It's like I have a gift.”