Long Grandparents Poems
Long Grandparents Poems. Below are the most popular long Grandparents by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Grandparents poems by poem length and keyword.
Za Za Zoom, Za Da Zing: Gen Zoomers
Ba Da Boom, Da Bing: Baby Boomers
Tech awakens in Baby Zoomers
Their Zoom nature being late bloomers
Digital video stays for sure
Watch your kid's vids, which ought to endure
Kiss those heartfelt hugs a grand goodbye
Doing face time on their time is why
So you'll all have to work from your homes
And pay most of your bills off your phones
Covid virtually did change us
Our offices then rearranged us
Save travel time by placing a call
Video games kick started this all
Techy Tacky is kinda wacky
Once Zoom evolves, it won't go backy
Couplet Various generational technology views
16 Lines 107 Words 5/19/22
She cried out for attention—was it really a game?
Or was it the only way they’d remember her name?
Her voice, an echo, lost in the night,
Drowned by indifference, swallowed by spite.
Her grandfather’s eyes, heavy with shame,
Saw only a liar—never the pain.
She was a burden, a whispered regret,
A shadow of sorrow he’d rather forget.
Lonely, broken, battered, and bruised,
A soul left to wither—discarded, misused.
Comparable to fruit left to decay,
Softened by wounds, wasting away.
But if they’d listened—if they had seen,
Would she still be trapped in a silent scream?
Or was she always meant to fade,
A ghost in the home where she was made?
Youth has its’ exuberance
But patience it knows not
Maturity found its’ patience
But liveliness’ forgot
Maturity looks back
At its’ wake upon Life’s sea
And identifies things
Which could and could not be
Experience: the teacher
Through dreams that motivate
‘Twas situations’ circumstance
Which helped to form our fate
Excitement filled events
While Passion fired its’ flame
Within that Youth resulted in
Accolades … or blame.
It’s smiles that reform faces
In Maturity’s recollect
Through memory’s open door …
In warming retrospect.
Time is unforgiving
But Youth can never know
Only Maturity’s Memory
Can make that Time go slow.
If my Mothers life pointed to a way forward,
Without the need for drugs,
Or an excuse to dwell on the unfairness of life.
If my Fathers life pointed to how to get by, even with a chip on your shoulder,
And not crash and burn,
Despite all life throws at you.
If my life with all its testing times and setbacks,
Has made me stronger not weaker.
Are we selling an alternative that says,
You need this sort of help,
Or that sort of help that often is not always there,
And when it is, produces side effects,
That are for life.
Are we selling an alternative to putting yourself out there,
With the need for therapy,
On a 9 to 5 basis,
Often with Drugs on the side,
When my Mother knew,
My Father knew,
That if you don't put yourself out there,
You will miss out on friendships,
That are open 24 seven,
And drug free.
I feel so lucky that I was born when I was,
When parents and grandparents were there,
To point the way,
And opting out was not an easy option,
As if I was born in today's society,
I shudder to think what I would have been diagnosed with,
And what the odds of me being on this drug or that drug,
When the odds against them being anything but the wrong fix,
Is astronomical.
If I feel any sadness in my life,
It is for those who are now living in one-bedroom flats,
With politicians and city planners all seeing that as the way,
To develop healthy minds,
That will bring healthy outcomes for society,
When I know and my wife knows,
And even our children know that it ain't so,
As putting obstacles in the way of putting yourself out there,
Will only increase the number of those who will never make it out there.
Parents beating their own children
Husbands beating their wives
Mother-in-law and sister-in-law torturing daughter-in-law
Where have our emotions gone?
Rich hoarding lot of money
Not ready to give even a penny to hungry
Watching others suffering still not feeling sad
Where have our emotions gone?
Women are plundered
Traded for money
Even young girls are not spared
Father rapes own daughter
Where have our values gone?
People looting each other
Frauds are a daily happening here
Murders happen over tiny puny things
Where have our values gone?
Massive killing over few pieces of land( in wars)
Terrorism fuelled world wide by many
Millions dying and suffering
Where have our emotions gone?
Nature is plundered
Air unbreathable and water dirty
Leaders are followed without thinking
Where have our brains gone?
Parents are working
Kids left alone at home or day care
Grandparents taking care of kids
Childhood spend on studies and tuitions
Where have our feelings gone?
Birds and animals killed and caged here
All for our happiness and money
Trees cut for flimsy reasons
Where have our feelings gone?
When it comes to us we have feelings
When it comes to others we become heartless
Was humanity always like this
Or has the mad rush for money change us
Humans are no longer human
or
Maybe they never were!
Mom and Dad's wedding picture
frames a glass-covered black and white frozen moment
with warm smiles
for invisible cameras.
He in his WWII uniform
of a first class private Republican
with recent patriotic death technology experience.
She in a white satin dress,
veil innocently pulled back,
rosy, more democratic, cheeks
even black and white monotheism
cannot fully suppress.
And,
I am in there too,
on their first day
of my realistic political and biological chance
to become
together
with who we are
together
this morning
in this home
in this town
in this State
in this Nation
on this Earth
In this time
of climate health and pathology
and spiritual health longing to belong
and economic health as probably less hoarded wealth
and political health and supremacist pathology
and mental health and issues,
crisis,
opportunities of Yang wealth
and risks of not yet enough restoring Yin-Matriarchal health.
This white satin laced bride
and this uniformed groom
smile together in black and white
monoculturing wedding pictured,
where white carries the main Yang history
while black
was lack
of negative information,
understory,
They too
had been understory health potentials
when my grandparents,
matriarchal and patriarchal,
smiled without black and white cameras
through their pre-WWI wedding days.
On back
through unrecorded 4D polyculturing histories
of full-color wedding days.
On back
to before patriarchal and matriarchal commitment smiles,
invested in future cooperative economies
and, preferably, synergetic family politics,
relationships and transactions
of all nutritional varieties,
had ever thought of public wedded vows
to love and cherish
potential Elders in Her EarthMother Womb.
Frozen moments
restoring new climate potentials
through cooperative commitments
to future lives,
their health,
our health,
Elders' health potential of wealth
all together
in this one black and white
wedding picture frame.
With childhood eyes, reflecting
Clear mountain day, remembering
Fresh cut hay, reviving
Together we’d play, etching
Memories never to be forgotten
The morning crisp, awakening
Aromas hint, of baking
Small morning eyes, awaiting
The wrinkled chef, creating
The delicacies of home-made art
Calloused hands, observing
A rugged land, preserving
Unwilling souls, still learning
Dust and heat for hours, shaping
Young men soon to face the world
Cool mountain shadow, approaching
The weathered rancher, nodding
Nightly ventures, seeking
The crystal streams, providing
All a boy could ever want
The dinner table, calling
The cold night gently, falling
The glow from window, beaming
Through which family is seen, praying
Thanking God for what He’s given
The warm fire softly, crackling
The elder folk, chatting
While childhood eyes slip, drifting
Off to pleasant dreams, forever
Calling my heart back home to Bedford
Finally, after a millennium,
we've regained a wisp of wisdom
a dollop of humble.
We see the black depths of our division.
We've looked at our souls from many sides.
put truth on pedestal and exposed the lies.
As earth's jesters juggle rings of viral fire.
Fifty brittle stars so easily cracked.
by five yellow barbs and a two-faced rat.
The echolocation of a wet market bat.
Donning the mask of ancient plagues.
Only the wise can see the shimmering grace,
as now all the world looks much the same.
We're just graying-complacent children.
Ignoring ghostly lessons of our fore mothers and fathers.
"Never trust the red hand of a communist ogre
who tanks his people and crushes their vote and hope."
20/20 contest
Etched on 5/22/20
Then:
naïve, sheltered, shy
what i thought
i wanted to be -
an archeologist, Barbizon model (no proclivity),
a writer, a psychologist, a mom, a wife
Now:
brazen, talkative, traveller, open
what i am -
a Christian, a writer (a poet), a model
citizen, prone to psychoanalyse, a mom, grandma,
a wife
Then:
at 5, under the knife, tonsils removed, ice
cream treat; cut my foot in a bike spoke, no dinner
Now:
Wheeled through airport, whisked to urgent care,
ambulance ride to hospital, anxiety led to prayer, peace
as piece of me removed (gallbladder)
Then: single, not wise, average, well-endowed
Now: married a long long time, know things (experience),
endowment’s gone south
Then:
envision wearing a billowy white shirt, sitting in front of window
facing the sea, writing poetry, ink dry
Now:
Anytime, anywhere, wearing anything or nothing at all,
ink wet as muse sees fit
Then:
face to face friends, cord attached to wall, cell of my own
making
Now:
poetry friends all over the world, poetry transports with
my fingertips
Then:
Mom, Aunts, Uncles, Cousins, Grandparents
Now:
Deficit of loved ones. Looking
to the future in bright new faces
Then: reaching inward, wanting love Now: reaching out, loving
Going further: reaching ever upward, in word and deed
I am entitled
to die, once,
and see my Lord and God
12/30/2022
Then and Now
Sponsor: Unseeking Seeker
I dreamt you
in golden threads of sunlight;
streaming, dancing, mingling with
azure waters...
dreamt you calling,
singing out my name in your regal orcan tongue...
dreamt you in each face that peered
from liquid silver seas...
dreamt your body's etheric touch
amidst cool tranquil waters...
dreamt our souls as one;
bound together; two spirit dreamers...
dream you now a foggy memory
since the whalers came...
but, as all dreams do;
you too soon…fade.
I awaken from this abysmal, astral realm…
reaching, stretching for your spirit.
Alone again, I will touch you again…
in another time.
Copyright, 2-20-14