Long Uncle Poems
Long Uncle Poems. Below are the most popular long Uncle by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Uncle poems by poem length and keyword.
Paris, earlier today. It’s a (vaccinated) summer family reunion and I’m catching up with relatives I haven’t seen for AGES. Like my impeccably dressed (three piece suit on a warm, un-air-conditioned, Saturday) 83 year old great uncle.
We cheek kiss
“STILL searching for love, Uncle Remy?”
“Forget love. My dear, I’m an old, self-absorbed narcissist. What I look for is someone young and frivolous whose most complicated desire is fun - specifically fun that can be bought - that’s an important distinction.”
I gasp and pose.
“You’re looking for MEEEE!,” I squeal.
“Oh, if I needed a spoiled, over-serious, temperamental, unappeasable rich girl - I’d think of you.”
“You GET me!,” *I beam with pride*
little color for facade
and everything is going to be ok
let's put a makeup to the toothless dwarfs
on the podium
painted cow's head
for decoration – everything is ready
TONIGHT THEY ARE EATING DWARFS
I think that I'm autistic
if I'm not
I'll become one
(as the only way they will stop touching me)
I don't like touches
they are glassed
like that time
when he died
vanished
he is gone
and they are touching me
I'm screaming
(It can't be heard)
they have achieved sound isolation by bandages
(so it can't be heard)
I'm screaming
(you can't hear it)
aquarium in the kitchen
has earned a criminal offense
according to the feng shui law
he is guilty for selection of cheap coffin
(when money is in question, punishments are always high)
for an INTRO it was perfect
5 minutes of staring to the fish until you start feeling dizziness
perfect INTRO
for making innocence
(all situations are cheap)
let's make a settlement
cheap
tapping fingers on the table
3 to 12 ... cheap
tapping fingers on the table
3 to 12 ... cheap
easy math for hard lesson
category: materialised love to a child
sometimes it is necessary to die
necessary
but not enough
f*** it
Loosely based on the movie Arsenic and Old Lace.
I’m sure you’ll excuse the rambling for that is what
the movie was like — an adrenal rush of dark and crazy!
Teddy Roosevelt: “Bully for you.”
BULLY FOR POISON
no pantywaist.
puts his big boy pants on.
deals with his bully
brother and his odd sidekick.
his uncle bugles at tiptop,
races downstairs,
keeps going
to the gullet —
the belly of the whale.
a grave situation.
tools laid out...
twisted...
menacing..
are his aunts a menace too?
but so sweet to his fiance
while they (let me say
this with the voice of Margaret Hamilton)
“Poison...poison…”
oh don’t worry!
they are only helping
lonely old men.
elderberry wine
sounds delicious
and zany.
Mortimer gets ever more
drunk
on crazy
as he finds bodies in window seats
and buried “in the locks,” below.
in the end he,
like his Uncle
(Teddy Roosevelt) blows
his bugle,
races downstairs,
figuring he must be
cuckoo, for he’s related
to the bunch of nuts.
honeymooners pack up the whole bunch
in paddy wagons, straight jackets,
whatever it takes.
he finds out he can’t relate,
he’s adopted.
wipes off his forehead,
kisses his aunts,
rides off into the sunset.
his kids will never visit.
he warns them of drinking,
especially when they are lonely old men.
teaches his daughters not to mix drinks.
he hopes of his adopted family, he’s seen the last.
he will keep tabs.
3/11/2021
Not sure how to carry on
Everything I love is now gone
Did not see the end in sight
Took you like a thief in the night
I know it was God's will
Doesn't make it easy still
On my knees I have knelt
While my heart starts to melt
Thought together we would grow old
Now your body is lifeless and cold
Not real sure how to act
Still trying to wrap my head around the facts
Nothing more I can really do
100% lost with out you
So many ways that this could end
Yet no idea where to begin
Bodies drained I have nothing more
Just laid out on the floor
Hoping this is the end for us both
I thank the Father, Son, and Holly Ghost.
An Uncle Charlie Original
Form:
Let me speak of Thanksgivings Day 2021
It was incredibly easy, full of holiday fun
The children were excited, the turkey was hot.
We laughed ourselves silly over jokes no others got.
There were nine grandchildren, loving me with hugs.
A loony uncle went around, looking in corners for bugs.
He thinks the FBI is watching, and big brother too.
He only gets to come here once a year, a real coop.
We put aside our politics, and no one brought up beliefs.
Concentrated on pumpkin pie and cranberry a big relief.
Unified in a prayer, we put our contrary views aside.
Grandpa snuck in a nap in our large armchair made of rawhide.
We hugged each other good bye as if we’d never see them again.
I gave an extra big hug to my best friend, who is my identical twin.
You never know at our age what the coming days will yonder bring.
It was such a pleasant day, my heart felt good enough to sing.
Deshbhushan – my father’s name given on
Entrance of a temple where grandma in yawn
Sitting with twins – my father and uncle yon
Hilltop – crying were both – grandpa gone.
Buying some milk when came on lawn
He saw our saint named Shantisagar icon
Underneath a sacred tree praying at dawn.
She worried at weeping of children and bon.
Hurriedly came grandpa with water from Huron
Aiming to quench thirst of three since eon.
Now Shantisagarji Maharaj did withdrawn –
Jain munies never change in mediation
Any position – but for them came in agitation
Informing grandma the names in clarion,
None than Deshanbhushan and Kulbhushan.
Letting go of my belief in the goodness of the world would have killed me
So I have decided to hang on to that until my death, as you can imagine.
Letting go of my grandchildren during their birthdays did not bring me glee.
So I have decided to forget this, let this disappointment grow thin.
Letting go of my shopping has not been an issue, Amazon has seen to this.
A variety of drivers dash in and out of my driveway, passing each other.
As they bring me cat food for Shark and dog food for Sophie, my pup miss.
I have let go of my mother, dad, uncle, aunt, and hilarious step brother.
Letting go is not easy, so I am hanging on to the belief with all my heart.
That this pandemic will be over, and a vaccine will be found to save us.
That someday we will all be back together, not having to stay six feet apart.
I am hoping that the scientists are not asking “What’s the rush?”
I have gladly and easily let go of freeway traffic which used to make me ill.
I have been thrilled to let go of co-workers who wasted lots of my time.
To not answer the phone when it is an annoying relative has given me a thrill.
I am excited to say I now have more time to write poetry and rhyme.
The Covid 19 has helped me prioritize what I can easily let go.
I doubt if I will ever sit in a theater again to see a picture show.
For I love wearing my pajamas, and cuddling on the couch with my pup.
Watching Star Trek reruns. Scotty, please beam be right up!
Today is May the 30th and it's Memorial Day.
Americans are paying tribute to those who fought and died for the USA.
116,516 American soldiers died during World War I.
They died while fighting the enemy with their guns.
405,399 American soldiers died during World War II.
When I say that many have died for the USA, it's true.
58,220 American soldiers died while they fought in Vietnam.
Hundreds of thousands of soldiers have died for Uncle Sam.
The casualties were far less during the Persian Gulf War, only 219 Americans perished.
Many men fought and died in the face of danger because America is what they cherished.
(I dedicate this poem to those who fought and died for the USA)
I read a poem about
a mother, a saintly mother,
who, with knotted and veined
hands, crocheted blankets
and booties and mittens
for grandchildren,
who made lemonade
and cookies for after school,
who canned and pickled and
made sarsaparilla, jam, and bread.
Certainly not my mother.
My mother was a clubwoman,
member, sometimes president,
often working on a project
while the peas burned.
She fed us meat, potatoes, and vegetables,
but she hated the kitchen
and housework.
Her major vices were cigarettes, quite
often Manhattans and one
we don’t talk about.
She constantly bemoaned
she didn’t do anything “meaningful”
with her education; no one valued
her ideas, especially my dad.
She felt belittled, unimportant, and
clubs fulfilled some of that need.
But who was it that kept everyone
in the family together?
During the Great Depression, who
managed to keep us fed and clothed
when Dad was out of work?
Who took care of her mother and
mother-in-law in the same house
for more than five years?
Who cared for months for my Aunt Carol, flown
home from overseas with kidney disease,
and who took in her three girls for “off-time”
the years they were State-side for education?
Who took in my dad’s brother, wife and
two children for six months
after my uncle lost his job?
Who welcomed children and grandchildren
when the need arose, no matter
how many people were already there?
Who cared for her mother-in-law
in her dying weeks, when her daughter
refused to do so?
Who was always there for us in emergencies?
In spite of a sharp tongue that often stung,
she kept us together when fate
tried to decree otherwise.
In my mind that’s a kind of saint!
“Say uncle! Give up!” my older brother said
As he wrestled me to the floor.
No, keep at it until I got him down,
but soon Mom was at the door.
“You two at it again?” she pled
Oh, but I wanted to hold a limb
But his was five years stronger
I could hold on no longer.
Then the humility came.
He won this game.
The competitions were fun
But it seemed I never won.
What it did give me was courage
Though I hated it like porridge
Cold, left over...like dying.
He would never catch me crying!
Are you afraid of loosing,
Or of a sickness with sores oozing?
Can you loose with grace,
Seeing pride as your opponent’s face?
Are you afraid of demons or spirits
Or can you resist until all submits?
To the name of Jesus you wield
Thankfully to Him we yield.
It’s not just a game.
For us He came,
To teach us in real life
In all battles and in all strife,
That we can rejoice and win
If we keep our peace and love within,
We can even help others be free,
To never give up until eternity.