The latest lesson of my grandson
Four year old
Daughter's son
Just started talking
In some kind of comprehension
Returned from school
The other day
And there were some guests at home
Some of who were to
See our grandson first time
And it was my daughter's role
To introduce each
Of the guests
To her son
She is your aunty
Say 'Hi' to her
Which my grandson did
He is your 'Anna'
(Anna in Tamil means elder brother, it can be cousin too)
Say 'Hi' to him
Which my grandson did
This your grandma
Say 'Hi' to her
Which my grandson did
This went on
Till the time
All the guests were introduced
It is our practice
To give the child
A handwash immediately after
His retrun back home from school
And I took that charge
While I was helping him
In getting a wash
The fellow asked me
In a low voice like whisper
Are there no good person
Among our guests
Startled I asked him why
And he replied
Just today
School miss said
That all of us should
Grow to become a good person
Mom said these people are
Either grandpas, grandmas,
Uncles, Aunties, Annas or Akkas
But she said none
To be a good person
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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Related quotes
What Grandy Told Me
My grandson,
Rush not to women
They smile
Their teeth are white
They have bitter intestines
Get a go-between
From her lands.
My grandson
If you wed
At her back, be not.
In the pot,
Count not meat,
Patience is divine
Or you miss a grandson
To tell my story.
poem by Charles Jagongo Ogola
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Where our innocent warm tears flow?
A sad message from Dandenong, Australia;
Our loving daughter Tharindu
Who's delivered a premature stillborn son today!
How do we send our deepest sympathy?
We realized the present distance darling daughter!
It's like the sky & Earth.
Do you feel our warm tears?
The cruel invisible hands taken our unseen Grandson
Earlier he took our Granddaughter too during my absence.
To whom we claim this unfair gamble and offer our inner cry?
Darling daughter be patient and we're with you till our last breath.
I have a name for you my unseen Grandson!
Lucky! (As you have not seen this cruel World)
We never forget our Lucky!
Your poor Grandma cries behind me like an Antelope.
You're the luckiest Portrait printed in our fragile hearts
And very soon we come to your lonely resting place sonny!
Yes, with my teary loose-leaf book of Sorrow!
*A humble dedication to our new grandson who bid Goodbye without seeing your poor Grandma & Grandpa! Our dreamy rainbow bridge collapsed, and we checked our old Passports, validity already expired it seems and we're very near to you!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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A Sunday Prayer of Thanks
Dear Father in Heaven, today I'm not going to ask anything of you.
I want to praise you Lord and give thanks for all that you do.
As of late Father I've asked you for many blessings and you have granted many of them Father. You helped my daughter find her way and open a wonderful art shop, oh Lord I thank you. You kept my children out of harms way Lord and showed my grandson the error of his ways bringing him back on track Lord, I thank you. You granted my grandson, my daughter and myself a trip to Nova Scotia this year Lord, I thank you Father. You made sure my mother isn't suffering with her leg Father. You saw to it that David Harris came home from the hospital and is recovering nicely, I thank you Father. You took care of some issues for my friends Shelley and her new husband Michael Lord, I thank you.
Father God, I'm sure I've missed some, but you know what they are and that I want to thank you on their behalf.
Father God, thankyou for all the wonderful things you do and most of all Father, thankyou for your precious son 'Jesus'.
poem by Melvina Germain
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The Place of Forgotten Memories
For years I’ve put odds and sods up into the roof space,
like old books, photographs, and the odd vase.
When my parents died I also put their memorabilia up there,
and now my loft holds many memories from over the years.
My grandson ventured up there and came down with a photograph,
he asked me why his picture was not in colour, and I began to laugh.
Of course it wasn’t him in the photograph it was his great granddad,
the resemblance was uncanny, which made me kind of sad.
The picture of my granddad was taken at the age of nine,
the same age as my grandson at this particular time.
I remember my granddad well especially in his later years,
and seeing him in my grandson fills me with tears.
poem by Orlando Belo
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Don't reserve the wealth for generations
If a person happens
to acquire wealth by RIGHTFUL means,
he should be generous to take food
- generated by ploughing his land
by oxen - with many guests and relatives!
However alert,
Wealth may not stay with one person with partiality,
It will move from person to person like a cart wheel!
(naalatiyaar - aRaththuppaal - selvam nilaiyaamai 2)
Hence, don't reserve the wealth for generations,
Help and utilise for charity, feed guests and relatives!
poem by V.K. Kanniappan
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Teach Them Well
Wealth never guarantees
Good character is bred
It takes much time for these
Where Discipline is led.
The young don't grow up Good
Respect implanted there
We teach them as we should
What's honest and what's fair.
We teach them Gratitude
And how to say 'thank you'
We teach them attitudes
That bless in all they do.
The young can never gain
Whatever is not taught
At Home and so attain
The virtues that we sought.
'Train a child in the way he should go and when he is old, he will depart from it.'
PROVERBS 22: 6
A friend of mine gave his rich grandson a birthday gift in cash, the grandson did not bother to say thank you and kept watching his hockey game. Such are the young people we dread will be the adults of tomorrow.
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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Familiar voices echo from Massachusetts!
*Shani the young poetess from Massachusetts;
I dedicate this poem in gratitude to her courageous family who gave us tremendous help as same as hospitality in our hard times in the USA.
They are in-laws of my daughter.............and our friends too.
'Hello Grandma & Grandpa!
We're already here.(Grandson Siluna, Daughter Thilini & Son-in-law Chinthaka)
Our Grandson called us and he wants to know when we go there and see them?
Yes, that's our endless dream and not yet finished.
Our eldest daughter & Son-in-law, Tharindu & Kelum in Australia
When they join us and sing together?
Oh! What a great comfort?
Then one day the old couple could have rest in peace hand-in-hand quietly
With a big permanent smile for a Toothpaste advertisement!
P.S.
Sonny! America is a big ripen Orange and we're small ants.I have already quitted smoking and I want to check your poor old Grandma's piggy till that how much she has saved for the journey? Really I must have an iron wallet otherwise these tricky coloured notes would fly always.
I must mention the name of poetess from West Virginia/my life-school teacher Sandra Fowler(West Virginian Nightingale) for her devotional prayers and our utmost gratitude!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Are You Content?
I CALL on those that call me son,
Grandson, or great-grandson,
On uncles, aunts, great-uncles or great-aunts,
To judge what I have done.
Have I, that put it into words,
Spoilt what old loins have sent?
Eyes spiritualised by death can judge,
I cannot, but I am not content.
He that in Sligo at Drumcliff
Set up the old stone Cross,
That red-headed rector in County Down,
A good man on a horse,
Sandymount Corbets, that notable man
Old William pollexfen,
The smuggler Middleton, Butlers far back,
Half legendary men.
Infirm and aged I might stay
In some good company,
I who have always hated work,
Smiling at the sea,
Or demonstrate in my own life
What Robert Browning meant
By an old hunter talking with Gods;
But I am not content.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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A Native American grandfather was talking to his grandson about how he felt. He said, "I feel as if I have two wolves fighting in my heart. One wolf is the vengeful, angry, violent one. The other wolf is the loving, compassionate one. The grandson asked him, Which wolf will win the fight in your heart? The grandfather answered, The one I feed.
I Sent My Child To School Today
I sent my child to school today
With his little lunch box
When he came home he said his friend
Had gotten the chickenpox,
I sent my child to school today
And asked him what he learned
He told me about firemen
They taught him how not to get burned,
I sent my child to school today
He said, 'Do you know what they taught me? '
He told me they taught him numbers
As well as his ABC’s,
I sent my child to school today
A smile on his face
I gave him a kiss and a hug
And said, 'See ya funny face! ',
I sent my child to school today
His smile bright and wide
But an older child brought in a gun
How did he get it inside? ,
I sent my child to school today
As in every day
But the child with the gun started shooting
The reason? No one could say,
I buried my child after school today
All I can do is cry
I lost my child at school today
And nobody can tell me why.
poem by Doug Hollywood Davis
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The Eve of My Death
The eve of my death, a baby was born, and this kept me alive.
The eve of my death, a baby took her first stumbling steps, and this kept me
alive.
The eve of my death, a school bus filled with laughing children drove away,
and this kept me alive.
The eve of my death, I looked out my window to see my child be swept
away to prom, and this kept me alive.
The eve of my death, my baby, my child reached out her hand to accept her
diploma, she is not a baby or a child any more, and this kept me alive.
The eve of my death, I walked with my daughter down the isle, and this kept
me alive.
The eve of my death, I held my new born grandson in my arms, and this kept
me alive.
The day of my death, I feel my grandson's tears hit me like a cool spring rain,
I see his father behind a podium an inch away from tears, I feel the
flowers on the casket that holds the only thing that keeps me alive.
poem by Stephen Howard
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It's a sick day off
It's Monday,
I said, ' I can't go to school today.'
Mom asked, ' Why can't you go son? '
' Well I have the flu and chicken pox. I need a warm cinnamon bun.'
'Eat a cinnamon bun, rest, and be ready for school tomorrow while rising with the sun.'
It's Tuesday,
I said, ' I can't go to school like yesterday.'
Mom asked, ' Why not Nate? '
' I have the mumps and measles and I think it is because of what I ate.'
' Well you're going to miss you school debate.'
Mom said back, ' Go to rest and hopefully you can go to school tomorrow with your sister Kate.'
It's Wednesday,
I said to Mom, ' I can't go to school like Tuesday.'
Mom asked, ' Why not my sweet boy? '
' I'm coughing and I got a headache also say I can't play today to my best friend Roy.'
' Go to bed dear child so you can go to school tomorrow with joy.'
It's Thursday,
I said, ' I can't go to school like Wednesday, Tuesday, and Monday.'
Mom asked, ' Why not lad.'
' I'm giddy, dizzy, and feeling pretty bad.'
' You must be feeling bad that's why I feel so sad.'
Mom said back, ' Rest now and it won't be so bad.'
It's Friday,
I said, ' I can't go to school again today.'
Mom said, ' Don't worry there is no school today.'
' No school! I'm going out to play now.'
poem by Saimun Shahee
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Father's mother's love
She loves her grandson
Wherein she finds her son.
She loves her grandson
By which she charms her son.
Yet her love is not wholesome
For the child’s mother
Is her rival for her son.
17.07.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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That's my school
Up at my school
everyone is different
yet we are treated
like an equal
everyone is always smiling
or laughing so hard
they start to cry
that's my school
a lot of people
go through my school
home of the blue jays
to cool for school
standing tall upon the hill
behind all the trees
stands the blue jay's school
yup, that's my school
each person is unique
form the clothes
to the hair
to their personality
each person is free
to express themselves
and be who they want
that's my school
WHS blue jay pride
that's something
that can never be beat
and something that we can't hide
friends come and go
but one thing will live on
the pride we had for our team
just like my school did
no matter where I go
or how far I leave town
I'll always be proud to say
WHS in WashMo is my school.
poem by Shauna Stoltz
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The Happy Divorcee
Such a lovely person and so nice to know
By the smile on her face she has the inner glow
The windows of her soul are open to light
She is always so cheerful and bubbly and bright.
In her early fifties her brown hair flecked with gray
Perhaps physically she has known a far better day
To her horrible ex husband she was a good wife
And without him she lives a much happier life.
Her ex husband has re-married on her he used to cheat
And when drunk he was aggressive her he used to beat
He done his best for to lower her sense of self esteem
Life for her better without him much better 'twould seem
Their only daughter in her mid twenties is married in a town far away
Her young son will be three on his birthday in May
At Christmas her daughter and grandson she will see
And life is looking good for the happy divorcee.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Fay and You and the Ruler.
Fay met you
on your way home
from school
standing by the entrance
of Meadow Row
she was in her school uniform
a satchel
over a shoulder
how was school?
she asked
boring and the day
too long
you replied
but at least
you can learn things
she said
like how
to make a candle
holder in woodwork?
finding some river
in India
I'll never see?
you said
she smiled shyly
well maybe you will
she said
how are you?
you asked
ok
she replied
got told off
by Sister Bernard
for not having a ruler
what did you do
with your ruler?
you asked
lost it
she said
ah well
there you are
you said
naughty naughty
she walked on
down Meadow Row
and you walked
beside her
actually
she said quietly
my daddy took it
she stood still
and stared at you
he beat me
with it
she said
in a whisper
you looked
into her eyes
and saw your
reflection there
two yous
staring back
why?
you asked
taking in her paleness
her fair hair tied
in a ponytail
he said l hadn't done
my jobs properly
jobs?
you asked
around the house
helping my mum
and did you? help?
yes usually
but I forgot
this time
big crime
you said
won't he give
the ruler back?
no
she said
he said he will keep it
as a lesson to me
can't you buy
a new one?
you asked
I haven't any money
she said
you can have
one of mine
you said
I have plenty at home
can I borrow one?
you can have one
she smiled weakly
her eyes lit up
and she took one
of your hands
and held it
I'll have to hide it though
she said
or he'll take
that one too
quite a guy your dad
you said
she looked away
at the bombed out houses
on the left hand side
you saw her hurt
and sadness
some things you can't hide.
poem by Terry Collett
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A day of 1971
The school is three kilometers away.
Akmal was hastily walking towards the school as he was already late.
The school starts at midday.
Mother was insisting him on for long to go to the school.
But Akmal was little reluctant today.
He was experiencing something new in the whole surroundings.
His small psyche could not exactly guess what it was but something very strange was happening around him.
On his way to school Nepalda was chatting with some of his friends at a corner. Nepalda may be five to six years senior to Akmal.
Once Nepalda was Akmal’s house tutor.
Nepalda called Akmal, ‘Hey where are you going today? School? School is closed today. Don’t go’, declared he.
There was enough reason to believe Nepalda for Akmal. After all he was his teacher and he has a good reputation in the society. At least his parents consider Nepalda as a gentle young man.
When Nepalda was saying that the school is closed then he has no reason to proceed further. Yet to be sure he asked Nepalda, ‘Is it true? Our school is closed? ’
‘Yes, my boy. I am not joking with you. ’ Nepalda replied. Then he murmured, ‘Be careful. Go to home and remain in the home. Don’t come out. There may be some exchange of fire. We are ready….the army is advancing…we are ready to obstruct them…go home’.
Akmal understood nothing but he could guess that he has to return to home quickly.
It came to his mind that he did not do his home work today. So certainly he was going to be punished today if the school was open.
He was happy that the school is not open and today nobody will ask him to sit for study in the evening, he expected.
poem by Kazi Ahmed
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The Maundy Thursday
In a feast the host must receive the guests
With humility. Else he is the beast
That relegates his guests as mere beggars.
Jesus washed guests' feet on Maundy Thursday.[before the feast]
25.03.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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God, Mary and Jesus
Can a good person give his lover grief
If he himself possesses all the powers?
Can a good person make his lover mortal
If he himself is immortal?
Can a good person deprive his son of a lover
For many years
If he himself has a lover?
Can a good person deprive his son
Of enough power, wealth and prestige
For many years
If he himself has all that?
Can a good person hurt his son
If no one is able to hurt him?
And so forth.
There are many people still now
Who do not give grief to their lovers!
There are many people still now
Who sacrifice their lives for their lovers!
There are many people still now
Who arrange marriage of their infants!
There are many people still now
Who give many of their belongings to their children!
There are many people still now
Who sacrifice their lives for their children!
Is God a bad person then?
There are many people still now
Who have more than one lover!
There are many people still now
Who have more than one child!
Does God lack sufficient amount of love?
Is there no other girl who loves God?
Does God dislike children?
If one son is enough for God,
What about a daughter?
Holy Spirit is no one else but Angel Gabriel
In the Holy Koran He is sometimes called Ruh
Which means Soul or Spirit
Because he is so near and dear to God's body
So please, don't say, Three;
There's only one God.
poem by Asif Andalib
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Silver
Nirvana- Silver
Mom and dad went to a show
They dropped me off at Grandpa Joe's
I kicked and screamed, said please don't go
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Had to eat my dinner there
Mashed potatoes and stuff like that
I couldn't chew my meats too good
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
She said, well, don't you start your crying
Go outside and ride your bike
That's what I did, I killed my toe
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
After dinner, I had ice cream
I fell asleep and watched TV
I woke up in my mother's arms
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
I wanna be alone
song performed by by Nirvana
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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