Long Grandma Poems
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onetime-
I was just one child all alone
and I wrote one piece
a day of poetry
grandma said
take one day at a time
uniqueness singleness oneness
one place I loved
was the attic
I was the only one there
playing make-believe dreams
doing the one-step waltz with dolly
it was a one-sided conversation
and I said
dolly I for one disagree
the one person I want to marry
will come one sweet day
and it will be a unity of two
and then I would sing her a song
in a one long octave note monotonous
uniques
singleness
oneness
I liked to tell one line jokes for grandma in the kitchen
put on a one man show for mom and dad after supper
dad gave me a one dollar bill
for every poem I wrote
I still have the first one he said
be oneself
take one direction in life
and I grew up solitary
to write poems
each one is beautiful to me
I'll get a break one day
one never knows about tomorrows
I hold dear my belief in
uniqueness singleness oneness
then one sad day grandma passed away
I cried all alone in that attic
I'll see you again one day grandma
______________________
September 3, 2015
Poetry/Free Verse/One
Copyright Protected, ID 15-705-869-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
For the contest, One,
sponsor, Rob Carmack
Ninth Place
I feel sorry for the children who do not know
Where grandma and grandpa and the puppy go
Some have been told that dead is dead.
No spiritual beliefs have ever been said.
The soul is something of which they do not know.
They have never been told of it, they miss the glow
Of spiritual truths, they think that dead is dead.
I pray for these little ones, whose eyes are all red.
To tell them of religious beliefs is wrong at school.
We are allowed to go just so far, the golden rule.
Although in the Bible, we pretend of this we do not know.
I feel sorry for children who do not know where their dead go.
There once was a woman named aptly Snappy T.
Happy, tappy and zappy as a rappy dappy me.
Diligent and hardworking as a slappy bumblebee.
The envy of most, also proud owner of a nappy chickadee.
Friends and admirers loved to watch out for little Snappy T.
She was a favorite in the city so, lappy, zappy, free.
Pollyanna delightful, and pretty, a flappy, clappy she.
She wore exotic dresses cut low into their dappy, happy vee.
Snappy T was the talk of the town, a poet and sweetpea.
People spoke of her exploits, and her pappy lappy monkey.
His name was Mr. Jappy, as grizzly ugly as could be.
But he loved his mistress – appy, dappy, glappy Snappy T.
Her reputation went viral, this media darling slappy Snappy T.
A wonderful influencer on Snapchat for her vappy zappy chi.
People loved her advice, she did not charge them a pappy mappy fee.
She retired with eighteen million. Being kind was the mappy dappy key.
Men fought over who would love her the most, loving Snappy T.
Women wanted to be her, imitating her for that was zappy free.
Her grandma made her a bride’s dress, with a clappy princess Z.
She was the talk of many generations, this gorgeous Snappy T.
Frosty the snowman visited,
all my windows with snow trimming,
and beyond the snow is f a l l i n g.
It is beautiful-
a winter fairy land!
Oh, it is not right that I am all alone,
and a tear falls down my cheek- remembering,
singing Jingle Bells and songs off key.
Dad would dress up as Santa Claus ,
and elves helped him pile up all those toys.
I knew it was my Dad, ho ho ho,
and Mom bought the gifts,
but it was still w o n d e r f u l.
Oh, the sparkling tree and decorations,
Mom was cooking and Grandma rocking.
I hold these "memories close to my heart".
And as I fall asleep this special Eve,
I recall a sled ride pulled by two giant horses,
flying through the woods- sled bells ringing.
Between my Mom and Dad, happy
s n u g g l e d under a blanket.
This is a lovely memory I keep within, and
on Christmas morning I walk in deep snow,
to lay red k i s s e d roses on their tombs . . . .
_______________________
November 26, 2016
Poetry/Verse/Memories Of Christmas Past
Copyright Protected, ID 16-853-124-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Written for the contest, Ho ho ho,
sponsor, Eve Roper
First Place
Mama why?
The sight of me makes you cry?
Oh mama why oh mama why
You never asked me honey what is it like to die?
Mama why can’t you tell me why I keep these tears in my eyes
Why am I so despised. I can see it in your eyes you can no longer hide your precious little lies.. or should I say you’re untold Truth. Of course I’m questioning. What did you think I was going to do? Remember when I asked you.. how my grandma died? I should have known by the look in your eyes that you fully didn’t tell me about her demise. All you said was that she bumped her head, and shortly after that they pronounced her dead.. was that the truth or a half a fact. I know when you look at me that you are holding back. As time went on and I grew strong I still didn’t know what the hell went on. So f*** that I had to find out after a funeral I don’t thank you daughter knew I was going to handle that. But the chick didn’t care, she just hit me with a Mac. To be continued..
Madison belonged to my grandfather
a decaying house a legacy left by him to me.
As I approached her I could see a part of the roof
was dangling on one side
like a lopsided grin she greeted me.
Her body looked poisoned
with green moss growing all over
The bloodless creepers like veins clung
as if it were choking the very life out of her.
She looked lifeless and damp like a broken body.
She stood high on a hill she had a full view of the valley.
As I reached her, I could hear her whispers
like silent screams, letting off steam
I stood still seeping in her beauty
which once she used to be,
it was a shame now the frame that greeted me.
The windows looked like small eyes
peeping out of the creepers and staring down at me.
I drove my car into her porch
which was covered in weeds
looking like a hairy chest to me.
I fumbled to unlock the great oak door
which still had a shine
like glossy lips, they were inviting me.
I stepped into the house and saw
my favourite staircase as a child
which I used like a slide, bringing back fond memories.
I slowly limped up the creaky stairs
the dust was thick and made me feel quite sick.
I turned to my right and entered
a bedroom nice and bright
a rosette mirror that belonged to my grandma
looked back,I looked a sight as she hung prettily,
I left the room and climbed down the stairs gingerly.
I exited from the back door into the garden
whose grass had grown like a little boy
to a grown man like me.
There were ferns on each side
which looked like hedges
I turned the corner as she stood now quietly
looking at her new owner,
to bring her back to her former glory.
19.07.2020
Decaying House.
ABANDON
My mom took me to kindergarten, when I was five
She left me there...Abandon
At seven I lost my two front teeth, they just fell out
My mouth when I smile…….Abandon
My grandma would read to me take me to church
But she got ill and died left me by myself
Abandon
I was the smallest kid on the playground
No one would pass or throw me the football
Abandon
Now a grown man was married for 40 years
Wife got sick died at home in my mind
I cried and I asked God why He took my side
Once more alone I felt disbanded
While in my spirit I was Abandon
6/13/18
Abandon Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brenda Chiri |
MY GRANDMA DEEMMA
My Grandma, whom I called Deemma
bathed me in showers of limitless love and blessings.
Those feelings I am still carrying in my life.
Deemma! An ideal hostess not to even guess,
most competent in domestic chores and household management
Grandpa! An unsuccessful lawyer with irregular income low and slow.
Deemma met up his inefficiency, never blaming rather running ideal family.
Off and on, in vacations, I had spent days with her.
She narrated her life-long struggle and concluded‘While raising up kids,
whole day’s ceaseless work made me frantically fatigued.
At late night I had to seek for a small space to throw myself in bed.
Yet, as I took glance on sleeping faces of my kids,
I realized, I as the happiest woman in the world.’
She had only primary education permissible for women in those days.
But her craze reached her daughters and son to succeed as toppers
She was my idol holding extraordinary skill in sewing, knitting, embroidering.
All the dresses of her grand kids were stitched by her.
Lots of charming dolls excelling in handicrafts were gifted to me.
Once she voiced to me ‘You call me Deemma, a typical address to old lady.
Dear my child, I am aged, but mind is still young not coping up with body.’
Now being a Grandma I had to sense the same ruthless truth.
She had bestowed me compassion and care in opulence.
I got no scope to repay but only to offer my gratitude as tribute in silence.
Trying to honor with my tribute roaming through reminiscence.
03/08/ 19
Fifth Place
'What's In A Name' Contest by Kim Rodrigues.
'YOUR CHOICE TRIBUTE VERSE' Contest by Brian Strand
Wrapped around both my lung
There's an empty space for someone's arms
To pull me into the most loving hug
Gentle and Safe, the kind that makes you warm
I wish you would notice the necklace I wear
Glinting like a heartbeat in the sun
I never take it off, I swear
It's from my great grandma, miss her a ton
There is a barrier, I'm locked in a room
Laughter surrounds me but never reaches
I desire it but can never consume
It rings in my ears like siren screeches
Somehow silence feels heavier
When you wish it would just say your name
People say it gets easier
But I don't think the weight is the same
I press my silver cross where your eyes should have been
Did you even notice I noticed you wear that shirt every Thursday
If I stopped caring this much it would feel like a sin
You ignore every detail while I watch that shirt fray
That girl with blonde hair, her perfume lingers like betrayal
The smell aches in my chest
It leaves this permanent trail
It lands on her blouse but where is the rest
Your breath fogs up a window no one looks into
You draw a messy heart to replace the one missing
Only this one doesn't beat, to be fair only few do
As the fog fades it's like the cold and dew are kissing
The streetlights pool on each sidewalk
Yet every bit of gold misses me by inches
The buzzing draws you in like a stop sign says stop
Every heavy step wakes you up like someones pinches
The puddles catch me in half light
Like proof I exist, but barely
When did your own existence become the most haunting sight
I miss when I felt I was flying like a fairy
Now I just fall as slow as a feather
Yet the weight could crush ships in the sea
Crashing down like waves in harsh weather
I can't even explain what I perceive
The dead come to visit me,
although they are all very dead,
they wake my sweet sleep calling out my name,
and I am entwined with these shadows!
I make some coffee and sit in the living room.
I wait sipping and gasping for fresh air.
But, suddenly the dead are above me and,
sitting there beside me
on my thread-bare flowered sofa we cling to each other.
All my loved dead souls gathered in my living room,
beside me holding my hand is my dear long gone mother,
and grandma is close in her old rocking chair rocking,
but, they are just hazy, gauzy shadows. (I am holding my baby)
Others sit quietly waiting to speak.
I turn to my father on my right and ask, dad how is
it you are here? He starts to weep, oh we are the dead
who did not want to die in life,
we did not want to leave,
so, we come back to visit and to keep you close to our souls.
Dad, do you roam other places or just come here in my dreams?
(My husband places a cold kiss on my lips, touches my hair.)
Or dad perhaps this is not a dream?
and he answers, oh yes daughter I roam the forests, I loved in life,
watch the birds flying, the water rippling, that is where you will find me,
and mother tells me, she is always beside, inside protecting me,
and grandma rocks and sweetly whispers, I never leave you.
Then, I wake to birds peacefully chirping a lovely song outside,
yet, I know at night the dead will be back to visit me.
_____________________
November 10, 2018
Poetry/Free Verse/The Dead Visit
Copyright Protected, ID 18-1084-156-01
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Submitted to the contest, Best Free Verse
In November, 2018, sponsor, Lu Loo
Third Place