Details |
Edward Cousins Poem
an empty fireplace waits-
for winter
wood and paper...
Copyright © Edward Cousins | Year Posted 2013
|
Details |
Edward Cousins Poem
When i was a little kid,my grandmother ate sardines
out of a can and my grandfather drank his beer slowly
shaking a little salt in each glass.
These were my "good ole days".
I often sit and i wonder why a memory so small
has stayed with me for so long.
I think its the memories that surround those.
A focal point?A foundation?
It makes me think of when he would play
his harmonica and say this is "Danny boy"
Listen and stop kicking the chair.
And so i would listen and look through his box car Willie albums.
And to his war stories.When he was a prisoner of war.
When he would go from home to home looking for morning eggs
from the houses and farms along the french country side.
The chap stick he would eat off of the ground.
Because he was so hungry.
Shaking a little salt in his beer!
I still try to fry my potatoes the same way she did.
My grandmother would never let you answer the phone.
So as a teen you just had to sit back and watch her
hang up on your friends.
Because she didn't know who it was and she couldn't hear to well.
The way she always had a way to make sure i had shoes on my feet.
Even if they were from the second hand store.(value village)
Every now and then i eat toast with my cold cereal.
it remind me and i feel like im sitting at her kitchen table
at ten o`clock on a Saturday morning.
We, I never got to go to the park.
or to the movies.
or to McDonalds.
Or to a theme park.
Or a mall.
We never needed these things.
We had stories with salted beer.
And toast with our cereal.
And onions with our fried potatoes.
He died when i was 15,her when i was around 24.
We really miss them.
The foundations of our family tree.
I hope my grand daughter has the same memories of me.
Copyright © Edward Cousins | Year Posted 2013
|
Details |
Edward Cousins Poem
I shaved my chin for you
It dripped dark red blood.
So that yours wouldn't burn.
I looked into the bathroom mirror
Searching for the reason these dark circles appear
My eyes are still blue
Blue with a yellow ring
Pull the tabs of paper
Stuck like glue
Freshly smooth and smelling of after shave...
The overture of an Indian summer
Gone on to long
I welcome a new winter, I sing along.
I won't do it again, this so called Indian summer my friend
You're to greedy for my skin
Copyright © Edward Cousins | Year Posted 2013
|
Details |
Edward Cousins Poem
There is beauty in this beacon of the sun.
she lingers along the wind,
through the window.
Casting no shadow upon my bed.
Old crooked door and noisy hinges.
Still cold,morning dew till noon.
Drops a few on the front stone
below the cottonwood.
Lovely chair painted white.
A long time ago.
Chipped and rusted.
Blue underneath where it was once new.
I sat for a lifetime in that chair the day you died
I cried on the flowers that you would plant
every spring.
I felt lost and angry,I'm sorry that I ripped them up.
I`ll plant them again next chance I get.
They will always be there.
Like the slamming of the screen door.
He smiles at me on the way
to the bus stop.
Runs his hands across the tall grass.
I hoped the bitterness would pass.
But it just isn't the same here without you.
He gets out of bed around ten sees me there in the old chair.
We sit and talk about you.
I just want to write this for you.
Beautiful sunlight.
We still love you.
Copyright © Edward Cousins | Year Posted 2013
|
Details |
Edward Cousins Poem
Leaves of the Appalachian hills.
Turning red and orange.
Burnt burgundy into smoky dreams.
Rainy days for you and me.
Is this not America?
October is warm this day.
Son playing the guitar
on the front porch swing.
Ones on his way! home to stay.
Fall is for lovers who missed
one another all summer.
Come back together again.
Till the spring.
Copyright © Edward Cousins | Year Posted 2013
|