Long Little sister Poems
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MY YOUNGER SISTER
DEAR LITTLE CUDDILY BUBBLY
ONE PIECE OF HAPPINESS HOW COULD
YOU BE SO ADORABLE
MY LITTLE SISTER THE SHINY HAIR OF
YOURS WITH THOSE PULPY RED CHEEKS MAKES
MY DAY DAILY WHICH KEEPS ME HAPPY
THE BRIGHT LIGHT GREEN WITH HUES OF BLUES
AND EMERLAD EYE OF YOURS FILLED WITH HOPE
AND WISHES URGES ME TO CUDDLE THE LITTLE ONE
ROUND AND FLASHY YET VERY SOFT AND SMALL
HANDS OF YOURS REMINDS ME OF MY FIRST
SOFTTOY WHO WAS AS ADORABLE AS YOU
SENSITIVE FRAGILE FEET OF YOURS WHICH DO NOT
FITS IN ANY SHOE OR SOCKS
REMINDS ME OF MY FISRT ONES
BUT MY DEAR SISTER THE HUG WHICH YOU GIVES ME AFTER THE HECTIC
HIGH SCHOOL DAY IS THE MOST IMPORTANT AND
CHRISHED MOMENTS OF MY DAY
Children were playing inside
With a big tube of glue
It was very bleak outside
And they had nothing else to do
Glue is very sticky
And is handy to stick
Things into a scrapbook
That you used to have to lick
They took the cap off the glue
Then started to have a fight
Who was going to use it first
It was then the glue took flight
It landed on the family cat
Who wasn't that impressed
The cat had glue all over him
He looked miserable and depressed
One of the boys grabbed the tube
That lay open on the floor
He accidentally trod on it
And it squirted up the door
Then his little sister
Who was only five
Slipped over on that gooey glue
And sat in it and cried
I am all wet and sticky
I do not want to play this silly game
About this time the others
Were feeling just the same
The glue had lost its attraction
The children stood in awe
They did not know what action to take
As Dad appeared at the door....
And again I looked, I scattered my sight there and here, thoughts just posing in my head “why” people just standing against me, pure innocence of mine just scrambles me,
And breaks me, “what did I do?’ I ask again and again,
With no answer, people’s laughter, Laughs, without me, leaving me in the open, cutting my soft delicate tanned skin,
People enjoying themselves, people that shattered me, those laughs like arrows dipped in venom pointed at my weak spot; my Heart
I ignore them will all my senses, with all my might, shut the door lock and cry
Those tears that nourished my soul and blurred my vision,
My vision so watery and indistinct. I squeeze shut my eyes, locking the doors to the soul, the tears just escape from my portal-like senses, I open them again, wipe off the tears harshly with my palm.
The door opens; it’s my sister, my beautiful- little sister,
She came, to hug me, to console my killing solitude, with a kiss, so blissful, so radiant; it lit the worlds above me
A hug, so deep, but it wasn’t enough, it wasn’t enough to shed the tears, but it bought the price of a smile on my lips, a ticket to the manner of serenity.
Another college tour, another favor. This time it was an old schoolmate, George and his parents who were taking the official tour. I was going to babysit his little sister Mary (5) while they walked around.
It was good to see someone from home and sad in a way. For a moment, I had a tugging feeling, like there was a hook deep inside me and the reel was back home.
When I first saw George I remembered a time, in 10th grade, before COVID. I was leaving school early and waiting to be picked up. Twenty track boys, fresh from their daily run, were lounging, seductively around. George, in particular, in a pose rather like Michelangelo’s Adam. “OMG!” I remember thinking at the time.
I smiled at that long-ago tableau. “What?” George asked, he was watching me. “Nothing,” I smiled, “Just looking forward to babysitting”
Mary and I exercised to a video, had a pizza delivered and colored - crayons aren’t easy to find in the modern college environment so we used high-lighters to create delicate, watercolor-like masterpieces.
As we drew, Mary said, off-handedly, “You’re really nice,” as if the nature of my character had been in some dispute. Still, I still felt warmly complemented.
When the tour was over, we were walking up science hill toward their car and the sun was declining to sunset. “How do you like it,” George asked, confidentially, head lowered, voice low enough not to be overheard by his parents who were walking a few yards behind us with Mary. “There’s a LOT of reading,” I said, shruggingly. “but I’m keeping up.” Last year I was a junior, this year I’m in college. It seemed absurd.
How do you conjure a vision for someone of what college would be like, when college experiences are so individual? The writer's dilemma, interpreted by a babysitter.
As we reached their car, the caroling bells started ringing (5pm) from Harkness Tower. It was the perfect send-off. Again I felt the pull of homesickness but my phone plinked and the emotion didn’t even last as long as dusk.
This is the day that I've been waiting for. The lights are brighter then ever the whole place, is filled up. This is the day, that I've been working hard for. It took 19 years of my life to get to walk,across the stage. With teachers saying my, name. This is the day, that I've been born to shine. Congratulations to karleah of class of 2007. This is the day right that I'm supposed to be, feeling happy. And pump up. So why in the world am I feeling so, nervous. Anxiety is starting to kick in. Yet this is the day that I'm, supposed to be hype up. I'm not feeling good I need to hurry and get. This over with see my parents, uncle and his family, my spoiled little sister, are here. I don't understand why, I feel as if my parents and spoiled little. Sister are taking all my spotlight away from me onto them. This is the day that I'm supposed to be, feeling happy. Yet all of my happiness has changed from that, to anxious. What am I supposed to be doing after graduation. What happens next do, I start to apply. To college's and from there start an exciting, career. The walls are closing in I try to do breathe, exercise. And I look at the positive. Of the fact that I've done this, all by myself. Yet what hit me the most, was how. I wasn't talk to get, prepare for my life. After high school. By anyone that I thought should have, prepare me. For this real world, not the TV show. My actual life. In school none of the guidance teachers, or teachers by themselves. And my parents never had the, thought of prepare me. Through this cruel world of adult lives. But this is the day so congratulations to me, for passing the 12th grade.
The truth was that I hardly knew him. I knew about him -- a little. He was a private man, and I respected that. He made my sister happy and that’s what mattered; after all, they’d been together for thirty-one years.
This last year was 'touch-and-go' -- and then I got the call I feared. She somehow managed to say the words... his heart had given out and now he was gone.
My little sister had become a widow too.
. the ruthless silence
. smothers a long winter night
. ~ his empty chair speaks
AP: Honorable Mention 2026, Honorable Mention 2023
As I sit upon the cloud, my sister SPIRIT, we shall call ---- “ ALWAYS “
Visits : bringing Her inner Soul with Virtue of the Heart ---- FOREVER
I believe I know YOU from “ Yesterday “ Please help me --- REMEMBER
As She spoke : the Lyric of Her voice : brings memories ----- I
Envision YOU “ my little Sister ’ Long ago Lost in LOVE; in --- LOVE
Through the mirrors of YOUR EYES : Brother, Sister : Me and -- YOU
Loving Parents , from a Time in History : where my Heart is of --- MY
Searching Soul, “ alive comes the past “ : growing up with MY ---- SISTER
Together we speak of “Forever LOVE” with an opened Heartfelt ---- SPIRIT
As we meet AGAIN in Time KNOW ALWAYS that I LOVE YOU --- L Y N E T T E
Dedicated To My Kindred SPIRIT Lynette Chachere “ Spirits Together “
Author’s Note : The origin of “ End Line Word “ Form Is a Dedication Where the
Vertical Line is the “Dedication” and the Body “ IS the Why “ Thank-YOU to all
Who have Supported Dane and I in Our Endeavor To create a New Form of POETRY
Dealing with Honor to Each Contemporary YOUR Participation Is Astounding ALWAYS YOURS…
HG
Blood relatives, we are not
By laws or marriage we are didn't knot
Nor characters in theater or movie plot
Yet he and I care, We both allot
He is from middle east
I am from the southeast
God is good cause he let us meet
Bad or good times, no quits
He gives me this sentimental necklace
Which I always wear and trace
Symbol of my so called talent
Refreshed and flowered in vent
I miss him so much
I wish he knows this such
I wish a hug that clutch
We bond with no match
I called him my brother
He calls me his little sister
Different faith, different race
Yet, all dear we are square
By: olive_eloi
3:18pm
01/13/2014
Dedicated to: my long time brother.. Not by blood.. Not by law but by heart...
As children are
They all want a pet
I wanted a horse
My little sister wanted a pony
Our parents compromised
They got us a goldfish
Of course we had to name our new pet
We compromised yet again and called him
Turtle
Now turtle would spend hours and hours
Running and jumping around an around in his watery fields
A very fast Turtle he was
We decided to film our little turtle and so we did
The show off would make jokes and acrobats
Turns out he was a real comedian
(also an expert at cards, especially Go Fish)
To out surprise, an evil man didn’t like our wee turtle
Why he called him a darn little monkey
He said he would shatter our fish bowl
Well he called it a Monkey bowel
Then one day we saw something miraculous
A second gold fish
Turns out he was a she
Happily now my sister and I both had pets
She a wee little pony and me
A great big beautiful black stallion
She name her Pony Grasshopper
So worried she was, that the evil man from far away
Would do great harm to us, Grasshopper and Turtle
She said we should get on our pony and horse
And ride away on the ocean, far away and safe
Then all of a sudden, our neighbors Korean Siamese cat jumped
Right through the window, and right smack into the fish bowl
Poor Turtle and Grasshopper, all over the floor
My sister cried her little heart out that day
From that moment forward, I just could never get myself
To drink Orange crush again
My sibling sister and friend without spite
or rivalry, I loved beyond compare;
Athena-like and lovely as the night,
your soul, a brilliant flame that burned with flair,
gave light to me and soothed my manic fears;
maternal saint and healer, you alone
have cared for me these dark, life-threatening years:
you rose as I declined—who might have known?
What genius I was you chose to forswear;
I still loved you more and not any less,
for I recalled childhood moments we shared,
of former times that gave us happiness.
Always loyal and by your side, I remained:
your brother, steadfast, sure, and wholly trained.