I have had to empty two family homes during the last few years - first, the house that had been my grandmother's since 1923, and then my own country home, which we had lived in for over twenty years.
quote by Penelope Lively
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Walked Last Night In A District I Lived In For Almost Twenty Years
I WALKED LAST NIGHT IN A DISTRICT I LIVED IN FOR ALMOST TWENTY YEARS
I walked last night in a district I lived in for almost twenty years
I came back after being away for a time
To visit an old and ailing friend
The streets were empty and lonely as they often were then-
I thought for the first time I understood how lonely the district itself is-
‘A lonely district’
I wondered how I managed to live there all those years
And how anyone still manages to live there-
I looked up at the sky and wrote in my mind a small poem of a kind I wrote many of in my years there
I remembered teachers and friends who had lived there
No longer of this district or any district on earth
I wondered how life goes and how from so many years so much life has been lived without having any place in my memory
I felt as empty inside as the district without
I did not have to wait long for the bus
And relieved inside it I put my heart to home
So many years had been lived there
I remembered taking my small children to the playground there
Now they thank G-d have children of their own
Oh the years go by and the life we have lived in them largely dies
Forever to be unknown again-
I put my heart and mind in a different direction
And began to do what I always do – not think of the district again
Life is this mystery and question we live through and never wholly possess even as we are experiencing it
How long before all will be gone for me
Including the district I live in now?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Our Loyalty
amidst the loneliness
that keeps us in this old house
this is what we can do: you sing the videoke
i face the monitor, and i write a poem about us,
25 years on monotony like the sound of the waves of the sea
overnight a boat that takes us to another island
25 years of tolerance about our own idiosyncrasies
another twenty-five years
and another twenty-five years
this is our pledge of allegiance to ourselves
husband and wife
alone, in an old house, left by those behind us
for bitter or for worse
er, for better or for good.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Immigrant Man
Years pasted by us quick
Lost counting endless days and nights
The family I haven’t seen for years
Because Immigrant to another country
Challenging to survived work and living
No time to think no time to miss the family
Never thought of how much the family missed I
Forgive me I have not been home
For such a long time
But my heart has never left the family
And I have never taken my root away
I missed my country. I missed mostly my family
The family loving caring brought me up
Endlessly guide help and supports
Priceless ticket hearted joy going home
To see my beloved family
Which I haven’t seen for years
To celebrate with the family
This Chinese New Year 2008
Prosperity, Happy living healthy and peace
Miss the happiness time FOUR generations living together
In one house warmest loving and caring
The noise the cries none silences day or night
LOVE and HAPPILY in the heart
Love my root. Love my family
Loving from the bottom of our heart
Prosperity-Happy Chinese New Year
Arrived home 31/01/2008
Celebration Chinese New Year 07/02/2008
By Lee See Fee
poem by See Fee Lee
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Grandma's Treasure Box
Each of us
when we reached 14
would make the Visit to
Grandmothers house
to see what was inside
her Treasure Box;
the Family Treasure Box
where each year
one of us
got to see
what she had
hidden there..
My Dad had been;
my older brother
had been
and now it was my turn
to see that part of
Family History.
No one who'd seen
could talk of it.
No one could reveal to anyone
what was in Grandma's secret box.
No one did.
No one would risk
Grandmother's upset.
She lived beneath
the 'L' in Chicago
refusing to move
and they built
the tracks
right over her house;
each time one passed
it rocked her house
like rolling thunder;
Varoom, clacky clack
another one
going by.
Stubborn was not the word
for Grandmother.
She still wrote letters
30 years later
to every Mayor
complaining about the
tracks and the trains
saying she wanted them torn down.
Every month a letter.
Grandmother never
gave up;
never forgot;
fierce in her loves
fierce about her neighborhood
fierce about things which displeasured her
fierce about family
fierce about everything.
I sat with her,
apron on:
she served me pie.
'Sonny' she said
now you at the age
where you need to
learn grown-up things.
Like your Dad and brother
your turn now come
to see what drives
this family;
our family heirloom so to speak.
You'll see now.
As you grow up
you hear people talking about it
but we are the only family that
has it in our treasure box.
Lot's want it
but we the only one's
that has it.
She walked me up her tiny
narrow stair case to the attic
my head spinning,
wondering what it could be.
What did we have in our family
that the whole world wanted?
The treasure box was small;
a faded gold color
with a hand-carved lid
covered by Grandma's
liver-spotted hand
which shook in the dim
light.
She shifted the box,
opening it with a tiny key
smiling faintly
her eyes moistening
as a sliver of sunlight
reflected into the opening box
and I could just begin to
see what was inside.
'There it is'
she said
'What is it? ' I said,
staring at a piece of cloth;
satin sheen
with a lace border.
'Every since your great
grandmother got
it has been the luck of this family
and so people's all over the
world hear about but
we the only one's who got it.
'What is it?
Your great great grandmother's;
cut from her mother's wedding dress
and from that day
this families' luck changed.
I looked at her eyes
looking for an answer there.
'Grandma what is it?
You heard of the Silver Lining'
Yes, I said.
Well this family has the only one.
It is the Silver Lining from your great, great,
grandmothers wedding dress.
Grandma had it
and she believed it had saved our family
all these years.
'I took it out when
your mother had her cancer
and she got better
and it took away her pain.
I took it out when your younger brother
had his accident, and he lived.
I took it out when your grandfather went to war
and he came home safe.
I take it out when ever this family needs things.
It is our Silver Lining.
Now you must never speak
or tell what is in the treasure box
or it will break the spell.
I never did to this day
Today I have the Treasure Box
waiting for my child
to have a chance to see.
Grandma's gone
leaving behind her Silver Lining
for the rest of us.
And on some days
I do take it out
when things look
like they might go bad.
Just for luck.
Everyone
is always
looking for a Silver Lining
and some luck.
All the Grandmothers
gave us ours.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Ten Grey hairs and a silver one
I discovered my first grey hair
when I was Seventeen years old
It had to do with broken up my first relationship
I discovered my second grey hair
when I was Twenty years old
It had to do with the quarrels at home
I discovered my third grey hair
when I was Twenty-one years old
It had to do with searching for work
I discovered my fourth grey hair
when I was Twenty-three years old
It had to do with loosing my job
I discovered my fifth grey hair
when I was Twenty-five years old
It had to do with giving up my unborn child
I discovered my sixth grey hair
When I was Twenty-eight years old
It had to do with opening my pub
I discovered my seventh grey hair
When I was thirty years old
It had to do with giving birth to my daughter
I discovered my eight grey hair
When I was thirty –two years old
It had to do with the first day at the kinder garden school
I discovered my ninth grey hair
When I was thirty-four years old
It had to do with to find out that some thing was missing
I discovered my tenth grey hair
When I was thirty-five years old
It had to do with the fights between my sisters and mum
My one Silver hair I discovered lately
Has to do with you
Because I miss you so hard …
poem by Pascale Ost
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Sheltered Memories
I did some traveling
A few years ago
I wanted to meet family
That I really didn’t know
Some lived in the same
Family home for years
Full of precious memories
From happiness to tears
I listened to stories
These folks had to tell
Treasured sweet memories
I saw my notebook swell
For these were the stories
That needed to pass
Down through generations
So questions were asked
I saw how they lived
A different life from mine
Heard tales of today
Many from another time
I smile as I see photos
Of family from the past
Photos shelter memories
That will forever last!
poem by Marilyn Lott
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Homeless in a House
I ask you simply, what is home?
A place where kindred people come?
A space where residents reside?
What makes a home a home inside?
I ask you now, is home a house?
Can people buy homes with their spouse?
In houses can a family be
together for eternity?
I say to you, it is not so!
A home is where a man will go
to seek his flames of strife to douse.
A home he seeks, and not a house.
Inside a home a man has love:
From here below, and from above.
At home, he'll be with family
for time and all eternity.
poem by Chris Schleier
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Four Years Old
Hey
Why'd you wake me from my nap?
I'm not in the mood
To play your games
Or sit on your lap
You
Where's my Yankees drinking glass?
I want some juice
And I want it now
So you better move your ass
And feel bad for me
'Cuz I'm just getting over a cold
I'm four years old!
I'm four years old!
I'm four years old!
Somebody better tie my shoes!
Now
I run down the hall
I scream and I yell
And I cry 'cuz I fell
Bring the rubbing alcohol
Outside
I get mud on my shoe
I come back in the house
I get it on the rug
The cleanging's up to you
And I won't take a bath
Unless you make me Spaghetti-O's
I'm four years old!
I'm four years old!
I'm four years old!
Mommy reads to me at night
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory
Well
I can't have a job
And I can't go to school
If no grownups are around
I can't go near the pool
I'm not alowed to climb
My neighbor's apple tree
I'm not allowed to sit
Too close to the TV
I don't know how to drive
And I don't know how to spell
But if I hear my brother cursing
I do know how to tell
'Cuz he made me eat some bread
That was covered in mold
I'm four years old!
I'm four years old!
I'm four years old!
I just threw up on my grandmother
song performed by by Adam Sandler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Twenty Years Ago
It's been a long time since I walked
Through this old town
But oh how the memories start to flow
And there's the old movie house
They finally closed it down
You could find me there every Friday night
Twenty years ago.
I worked the counter at the drugstore down the street
But nobody's left there I would know
On Saturday mornings that's where
All my friends would meet
You'd be surprised to know what a dime would buy
Twenty years ago.
All my memories from those days come gather round me
What I'd give if they could take me back in time
It almost seems like yesterday
Where do the good times go?
Life was so much easier twenty years ago.
I guess I should stop by Mr. Johnson's hardware store
His only son was my friend Joe
But he joined the army back in 1964
How could we know he would never come back
Twenty years ago...
song performed by by Kenny Rogers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Home
Home, sweet home of mine
I have missed for twenty-years
And mum is getting no younger
I should be home by now
But do I return home
When I have not achieved height?
What do I say to old friends
Who will say to me:
What have you brought for old
Friends you left behind.
Twenty years is a long time
To be away from home
And yet not not achieve height.
poem by Efe Benjamin
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I was born in 1923 into a middle class Jewish family in Vienna, a few years after the end of World War I, which was disastrous from the Austrian point of view.
quote by Walter Kohn
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Who Am I? I Am!
who am i?
whose voice do you hear
when i growl?
whose face do you see
when i moan?
i am the train
that hasnt come
for twenty years,
the tracks left to whimper
like a deserted bride.
i am the lock rusted,
and the key that is lost.
i am the cross of silver
on the neck of the corpse.
i am the soldier come home
to no home at all.
i am the father burying
his only son.
i am the vote not cast,
the prayer unspoken.
i am the homeless shelter,
and the house in the suburbs.
i am the husband and wife,
splitting after 25 years.
i am the abused child,
the worker without a job.
i am two young men who are
in passionate love,
and the families that
turned their backs.
i am the young boy and girl
making love for the first time,
when nothing else matters.
i am the empty church,
and the library closed down.
i am laws that take away
the individual's rights.
i am a poet, a hammer, a wheelbarrow,
and a bag of used clothes,
left on the doorstep
of the family in need....
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Twenty Years
I burned the bridge. There's no going back.
Would never be ten or fifteen again.
Opening my eyes to a blood red sky
Designed with black and all shades of darkness
Inscribed in it was 'Welcome To Life'
I cried and cried, everyone smiled and grinned
I really don't wanna be here but ssshh
You can't say that, life is for living
The dead hath no friendship with the living
Holding the back of hope's hand
On the other hand holding tightly
The photograph of the days of my life.
I run for my dear...not so dear life
Here comes the seasons changing on me again
When it rains, it pours, I drown, and become rain
When it shines, it burns, I ignite, and become passion
There's been no rain, I prayed
Took an umbrella, with faith in my chest
I chilled under the sky for an answer
It didn't rain, so I went for a gin
Twenty years. Twenty failures. One cynic.
Pure Russian water wash through my bleeding soul.
Twenty years looking for something
Not sure what, the whole world is moving
I'm standing, chilling, and stilling
A confused fish, stuck in life, a tough shore
Death and nothingness, the peaceful ocean
How do you fill up an empty heart?
Twenty years with an empty side
The best way to give your life a meaning
Is to give someone's life a meaning
Twenty years, I've sounded an alarm
To the higher heavens, to the Only one
But how do you give what you don't have?
Twenty years. Twenty heartbreaks. Twenty failures. Twenty prayers.
Twenty kisses. Twenty goodbyes.
Twenty attempts. Still breathing.
Twenty caresses by Him who wooed me young
He who loves and chases me old
Yet His absence is chilling and silence, killing.
Twenty years. Of clueless motions.
And the crowds' mental insanity.
Twenty years. History has told her story.
Time is penning my story.
I repeat again; I wish I knew
At any point knew how life should be lived.
Twenty years. Prince Charming. Remained a frog, or perhaps had disdain for sleeping beauty.
Twenty years. The rain is pouring, my heart is needing
But the umbrella's missing.
Disney made me dream...weak...love
My prince charming in shining armour is...a...fairy...in a child's tale.
Gloom is norm. Loneliness is my bestie.
Twenty years. What do you want to be in Twenty years?
I wish you well.
Me? I'm just searching...for the sea.
poem by Jenim Dibie
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The design of the God
Growth and generation for twenty years.
Health and reproduction for twenty years.
Breath and degeneration for twenty years.
Since then live sans passion, the God’s design.
20.11.2011
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Twenty years a child twenty years running wild twenty years a mature man-and after that, praying.
Twenty years a child; twenty years running wild; twenty years a mature man -- and after that, praying.
On Himself
A wearied pilgrim I have wander'd here,
Twice five-and-twenty, bate me but one year;
Long I have lasted in this world; 'tis true
But yet those years that I have lived, but few.
Who by his gray hairs doth his lustres tell,
Lives not those years, but he that lives them well:
One man has reach'd his sixty years, but he
Of all those three-score has not lived half three:
He lives who lives to virtue; men who cast
Their ends for pleasure, do not live, but last.
poem by Robert Herrick
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Twenty Years Hence
Twenty years hence my eyes may grow
If not quite dim, yet rather so,
Still yours from others they shall know
Twenty years hence.
Twenty years hence though it may hap
That I be called to take a nap
In a cool cell where thunderclap
Was never heard,
There breathe but o'er my arch of grass
A not too sadly sighed Alas,
And I shall catch, ere you can pass,
That winged word.
poem by Walter Savage Landor
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Lines For An Album
Over the river and through the woods
To grandmother’s house we go ...
She waits behind the bolted door,
Her withered face in thirty pieces,
While blood runs thin, and memory,
An idiot without a name,
Recalls the snows of eighty years,
The daughter whose death was unexplained,
Darkness, blue veins, and broken leases.
Grandmother waits behind the door
(Sight dims beyond the curtain folds)
With her toothless smile and enuresis.
Over the river and through the woods
To grandmother’s house we go ...
poem by Weldon Kees
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The Magic of Numbers
The Magic of Numbers—1
How strange it was to hear the furniture being moved around in the apartment upstairs!
I was twenty-six, and you were twenty-two.
The Magic of Numbers—2
You asked me if I wanted to run, but I said no and walked on.
I was nineteen, and you were seven.
The Magic of Numbers—3
Yes, but does X really like us?
We were both twenty-seven.
The Magic of Numbers—4
You look like Jerry Lewis (1950).
The Magic of Numbers—5
Grandfather and grandmother want you to go over to their house for dinner.
They were sixty-nine, and I was two and a half.
The Magic of Numbers—6
One day when I was twenty-nine years old I met you and nothing happened.
The Magic of Numbers—7
No, of course it wasn’t I who came to the library!
Brown eyes, flushed cheeks, brown hair. I was twenty-nine, and you were sixteen.
The Magic of Numbers—8
After we made love one night in Rockport I went outside and kissed the road
I felt so carried away. I was twenty-three, and you were nineteen.
The Magic of Numbers—9
I was twenty-nine, and so were you. We had a very passionate time.
Everything I read turned into a story about you and me, and everything I did was turned into a poem.
“The Magic of Numbers” from The Collected Poems of Kenneth Koch, published by Alfred A. Knopf, Inc. Copyright © 2006 by Kenneth Koch.
poem by Kenneth Koch
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