Bragging Rights
Bragging Rights
I’m feeling rather curious
If not down right ridiculous.
I’m married to a great grandma
She thinks I am peculiar
because I say I’m very glad
to be at last a great Granddad.
Although she will admit to me
in private that’s she’s glad to be
Allowed to call her son Granddad
a privilege she’s never had
but one she willing to pursue
if only for a week or two
The truth is we are pleased to be
part of a growing family.
We hope quite soon to get to know
our first great grandson Little Joe
My lady and I have no doubt
we have something to brag about.
As we grow old disgracefully
We will brag that’s a certainty.
15-Feb-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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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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Emily May
For My Great Granddaughter
Today old Dodgy Dave,
was made a Great Granddad again,
with a great granddaughter Emily May,
weighing in at seven pound and four ounces.
Is he happy? I would say he is.
Looking in the mirror
another dozen grey hairs did appear.
One thing I can tell you,
she could grow up to be a pop singer
with the deafening lungs she has.
The new Granddad and Granny are coming around tonight
to toast baby Emily May,
with a couple of cups of tea
on the rocks,
or we might even splash out
on a coke.
Welcome to the crazy world
of your Great Granddad Dodgy Dave
my little Emily May
poem by David Harris
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Great Grandma
Great Grandma married Great Grandpa
poor Irish girl and poor Indian man
Great Grandma
used to get beat by Great Grandpa's mom
Great Great Grandma
because Great Great Grandma only spoke an Indian
language and not English.
She got hit by a train.
Lots of us Indians got hit by trains in one way
or another, but this was
literal and not metaphor.
poem by Smack Thompson
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This Is Special Birthday For My Grandfather Father
I AM SO THANKFUL TO STILL HAVE MY GRANDDAD AND FATHER WITH US. THIS IS SPECIAL BIRTHDAY FOR GRANDDAD AND FATHER. WE ARE SO HAPPY TO STILL HAVE OUR GRANDDAD AND FATHER HEAR WITH ALL HIS GRANDCHILDEN AND CHILDEN. WE WISH YOU A HAPPY BIRTHDAY MANY ON THIS EARTH. WE ARE SO BLESS TO SEE OUR GRANDDAD AND FATHER TURN SEVENTY SIX YEAR OLD.THANK YOU GOD FOR GIVE US SEVENTY SIX WITH OUR GRANDDAD AND FATHER. OUR GRANDDAD AND FATHER WILL TURN SEVENTY SIX ON APRIL 17.WE THANK YOU FOR ALL DO FOR YOUR FAMLIY AND FRIEND. HE LIVE SEVENTY SIX YEAR ON EARTH. OUR GRANDDAD HAVE FOUR KIDS AND FIVE GRANDCHILDREN.WE THANK GOD STILL HAVE OUR GRANDDAD AND FATHER HEAR WITH US
poem by Courtney Robinson
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Thunderbox
In Granddad’s garden there still stands
a thunder box. A monument
built lovingly by Granddads hands,
intended to be permanent,
But fashions change and indoor loos
took the place of earth closets
So now it has a different use
but he can cope with life’s upsets.
It houses now his garden tools
Green painted and in good repair
Granddad has little time for fools.
Who cannot change and will not dare.
But Granddad can and Granddad will
accept the world cannot stand still.
21/07/2007
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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The Chair
Grandma’s chair is rockin’, but she ain’t sittin’ there,
so who’s that sittin’ in grandma’s favourite chair?
And whose is that shadow standing by the wall?
Could it be our grandma..? ‘No, not at all.’
I’ve no idea whose shadow that could be,
it’s certainly not mine and you’re behind me.
Who is that sittin’ where grandma sat each night?
and could it be the shadow is a trick of the light?
Could it be our granddad standing by the wall?
‘No, it’s not granddad, he wasn’t that tall.
The chair’s still rockin’, but the shadow has gone.
The chair has stopped; they’ve both moved on.’
poem by Orlando Belo
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Len Is A Granddad
The day had finally come
and around 7 am the news came through
and it was official
Len was now a granddad new.
His emotions got the better of him
and his eyes began to leak tears of joy
for this new 8lb baby boy.
He felt like a bag of nerves
now the waiting was through,
and dawning his red and black leathers
mounted his yellow Red Bull mean machine
doing wheelies around the car park
and yelling to everyone he met
that he had joined that auspicious crowd
because he Len was now a granddad
and a proud moment in his life.
With red eyes, he went to work
his feet feeling like jelly,
a big smile on his face
and his brain going into a delirious state
that his students had to look after him.
Even the weather smiled with him
with the sun and sky of blue
as Len was now a granddad new.
19 January 2011
Author’s Note:
This poem was written for a card that I made up and gave a friend at work when he became a granddad for the first time.
poem by David Harris
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Don't Forget who is your Father
God is Great
He created you and me so ladies and gentleman
he is the only person to praise and pray
Cause some of us we pray Alan people you pray him
who is him God is the one who created us
so guys help me to Thank him every time i'm sick i call him cause
he is the hiller the killer of diseases in the world
Help me to sing.
How great is our God sing with me how great is our God
all we sing is how great is our God age to age praise his
Great great great great great
great great great great great great great
great great great great great great great
great great great great great great great great great great great
GOD GOD GOD GOD GOD GOD GOD GOD..
Thank you Help me pliz.
poem by Ruvimbo Daisy Matsika
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I'm So Glad
I'm so glad
I'm so glad
I'm glad, I'm glad, I'm glad
I'm so glad
I'm so glad
I'm glad, I'm glad, I'm glad
Don't know what to do
Don't know what to do
Don't know what I'm gonna do
Another week in
Telephoning
Tired of groaning for you
I'm so glad
I'm so glad
I'm glad, I'm glad, I'm glad
I'm so glad
I'm so glad
I'm glad, I'm glad, I'm glad
song performed by by Deep Purple
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Granddad's Candy
Granddad offered candy
from a white paper bag
and you slowly took one
and put in your mouth
and the strong peppermint flavour
exploded on your tongue
as Granddad closed his eyes
and sank back
into his chair by the fire
and he said
if you go outside
to the john
be careful of the mutt
who sleeps there
and the spiders
which hang around
waiting for little boys
and look out
for the fairies
at the bottom of the garden
hidden amongst weeds
and you nodded
as you always did
and tried to swallow the candy
as fast as you could
and Granddad said
look over by the side
and pass me
the cigarettes and lighter
and don’t let
your grandmother see
or she’ll moan about me
and my breathing
and my heart
and you looked over the side
and picked up
his cigarettes and lighter
and brought them to him
and Gran said
from the kitchen
he’s not smoking
those cigarettes again is he?
And you said
looking at Granddad
hiding them behind his back
no Gran he’s just sucking
on a candy and he’s given me
one to suck and one to keep
and Granddad had his eyes
closed still
pretending to be asleep.
poem by Terry Collett
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The Nerve
Im glad I had the nerve to talk to you that day
I could just have easily have let you get away
In that crowded airport, far from my hometown
If I had lost my courage then, you wouldnt be around
Im glad I had the nerve.
And Im glad he had the nerve to get down on his knees
And say I bought this ring for you, wont you wear it please?
My daddy sure touched somethin in my mommas heart somehow
If he hadnt, I sure wouldnt be here with you now
Im glad he had the nerve.
Or I never wouldve lived like this
Or learned like this
Or laughed like this
Or loved like this
Im glad he had the nerve to sail across the sea
My great grand-daddys great grandpa in 1833
He met an indian maiden in the smoky mountain mist
If they hadnt crossed that line, I would not exist
Im glad they had the nerve.
And Im glad he had the nerve, while staring into space
To give this universe a time and a place
With one tiny atom or an adam and an eve
However you look at it, whatever you believe
Im glad he had the nerve.
Or we never wouldve live like this
Or learned like this
Or laughed like this
Or loved like this
Thank God he had the nerve.
And Im glad I had the nerve to talk to you that day
song performed by by George Strait
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Joint At Deathbed
I smoked a joint
at my granddad’s deathbed.
In the living room of
childhood memories
Inhaling and Exhaling
blue plumes of smoke
Hours before he
drew HIS
last breath.
And
sitting at his deathbed.
as the grandfather clock struck
and the streetlamp outside the window
was turned on
and later off
I made my peace with God
and all consuming time
I smoked a joint
at my granddad’s deathbed
Putting my hand on
his
he spoke, his voice a pale whisper.
“Nothing can be done about it”
These last words to me
from a dying old man.
I smoked a joint
At my granddad’s deathbed.
Sweet soothing numbness
Held sadness and sorrow at bay.
Unspoken words of gratitude
milling around inside
but alas
a day too late.
and “nothing could be done about it”
I smoked a joint
at my granddad’s deathbed.
in cold cool contemplation
alone in the darkness, I understood:
All you hold dear will perish.
summer holidays,
friendships,
love,
life.
And no,
“nothing can be done about it”
The Old Man was right
poem by Carsten Thomsen
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Little miss brag
Little Miss Brag has much to say
To the rich little lady from over the way
And the rich little lady puts out a lip
As she looks at her own white, dainty slip,
And wishes that she could wear a gown
As pretty as gingham of faded brown!
For little Miss Brag she lays much stress
On the privileges of a gingham dress -
"Aha,
Oho!"
The rich little lady from over the way
Has beautiful dolls in vast array;
Yet she envies the raggedy home-made doll
She hears our little Miss Brag extol.
For the raggedy doll can fear no hurt
From wet, or heat, or tumble, or dirt!
Her nose is inked, and her mouth is, too,
And one eye's black and the other's blue -
"Aha,
Oho!"
The rich little lady goes out to ride
With footmen standing up outside,
Yet wishes that, sometimes, after dark
Her father would trundle her in the park; -
That, sometimes, her mother would sing the things
Little Miss Brag says her mother sings
When through the attic window streams
The moonlight full of golden dreams -
"Aha,
Oho!"
Yes, little Miss Brag has much to say
To the rich little lady from over the way;
And yet who knows but from her heart
Often the bitter sighs upstart -
Uprise to lose their burn and sting
In the grace of the tongue that loves to sing
Praise of the treasures all its own!
So I've come to love that treble tone -
"Aha,
Oho!"
poem by Eugene Field
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Your Not A Lady
So you say that you are a lady
Well that's hard for me to believe,
As I known the life that you have led
And the life now that you do lead.
You cheat around and you do also lie
And you curse and drink more than any man,
You cant teach virtues too your own two daughters
As them yourself, you don't understand.
You say you might be a lady
Well that I think could never be
As a lady doesn't brag on hickeys from other men
Or leave their husbands for other men to see.
And while their home is sleeping
A lady doesn't crawl out of the bed of her spouse
While her own daughters are their still asleep
And runs to bed a man who lives in a broken house.
So you say you think you might be a lady
I think I have heard that story once before
As a lady marries for love and then forever
And not for escape, and later to become a whore.
And a lady is known by both woman and man
Wherever she might go or where she might be
And the people see meets and that she greets
They can tell you, that She is truly a lady.
So now you say you wish you were a lady
Well that of course will never be
As a lady is married to the man she is with
And not used by him or by other men in discreet.
And a lady doesn't lie or doesn't cheat or even steal
She doesn't leave from one man to another
And she wont change her hair so people wont stare
And she doesn't blame her fault on her own mother.
So you say that you are not a lady
I am so glad you finally accepted that fact
As a lady is a roll model for daughters everywhere,
And not for advertisement for when she is on her back.
A lady is virtuous and is loyal and ever so caring
And those are the qualities that you never had
She is also devoted to her man and is a good mother
A lady you never was, or will be, and that makes me sad.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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I Do Admit This
I must admit,
I've gone through several personality shifts...
During my lifetime.
Finding those adjustments not so easy to take.
But glad that God took the time with me,
To make those growth periods...
Ones I now appreciate.
I must admit,
I've had great teachers.
Several I did not meet in classrooms either.
I've had close relationships with those,
Who taught me lessons to keep.
I must admit,
I miss my grandparents and parents.
Ex-wives and tight friends who in my life,
And in my mind....
Will always exist.
It seems those who were most interested in me,
Are gone.
And for some reason what they taught,
Has left me powerfully strong.
And I do admit this...
So much of their presence lives within me.
I feel them surrounding me constantly.
Whether this is memory or actual occurrence.
I must admit,
They've assisted in my endurance.
Leaving me to know I am blessed!
And admitting to myself,
What they have left has allowed my happiness.
I would not be able to live,
Without this admitted.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Net
The net's a big headache
I need a bloke you see
I search and search for hours
But can't get one for free.
I bought myself a web cam
I thought I could chat and play
But there weren't any blokey blokes
Only the ones that were gay.
Hang on! Who's this?
It's a blokey figure
Reminds me of my granddad
But my granddad's thinner.
Says his name's Bertie
Asks if I'm into leather
Then he says I'm a bore
‘could've knocked me down with a feather.
Oh Wait! I must be dreaming
I see a tanned blokee
I smile at his picture
He smiles back at me.
He speaks, I can't hear him,
He hears, but can't see,
I think my PC's broken
Why does it happen to me?
I think I'm in love
I hope he feels the same,
Oh damn! My PC's crashed
And I never got his name..
poem by Hazel Connelly
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Friendship
There a kind of feeling that you can only get
From having good friend that you can call family
Blood is thicker than weather this is true
But your homies will never let you regret
Their by your side now matter what the trouble
They get your back even when you are wrong
No matter what whenever you may call
Their right there on the double
Friendship is such a wonderful bond
Your create links and chains
That cannot be broken now matter what
And this unconventional family is not a con
Who had my back when I was too drunk to walk
My family shunned me for what I did
It was stupid this I know
But my homie never give me that talk
I glad to have friends so great
I will never turn my back on them
No matter the day or even time
So to everyone you should appreciate
The friendship in your life
poem by Murasaki Kitsune
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I’m So Good That I Don’t Have To Brag
Now I'm warnin' all you women don't stand too close to me cause you might catch fire
Now you're talkin' to a man in a whole other kind of bag
Well I'm three parts tiger and one part snake
I'll ball you to sleep and I'll bite you awake
And I'm so good that I don't have to brag
I need an adding machine to count up all the women I've ruined for other men
Now compared to me Paul Bunyan is a screamin' fag
I can shift more gears and pump more juice I'll turn you every which way but loose
And I'm so damn good that I don't have to brag
Now there's twenty thirty beautiful women a sleepin' at the foot of my bed
And every night every night I hear 'em sighin'
They say that I don't miss a thing they say that I'm the lovin' king
And I'm too nice a guy to say they're lyin'
Now I've been makin' love professionally since I was only six years old
And I really learned the way to wiggly wag
And still I'm such a modest man you know I'm twice as great as I think I am
I'm so good that I don't have to brag
There's a line of chicks startin' at my window and reachin' across the street
And it stretches 'way to the other side of town
They come to me from across the seas on their knees just sayin' Please
And I'm too nice a guy to turn 'em down
Now I once got captured by some Amazon women down in the Fiji Isles
They were fightin' over me to see who'd be my bride
I had to kill them all and I will admit it and I won't tell you how I did it
But I'll tell you each one was smilin' when she died
Now the day I die every woman in the country's gonna go around dressed in black
And they'll probably add another star to the American flag
And they'll build me a monument forty feet high sayin' it's a shame he had to die
He was so damn good he never had to brag
And I'm tellin' you men keep your eighteen year old daughters off of my back
And your wives they like the way I carry on
And why don't you go look at your mother for a while
You notice she's wearin' a funny sorta smile
Well that just means I've been there and I've gone
Now if you got a frigid woman I'm gonna cure her for a hundred dollars
You can bring her around my house at four o'clock
And you can come and pick her up at 4:03 if you can pry her off of me
I got a whole lot of others just waitin' 'round the block
Now if you're wonderin' how you're gonna get to me
Better bring a Cadillac full of money
Cause I sure as hell ain't gonna swing without no swag
I can make you creep I can make you crawl make you scream and climb the wall
And I'm so good that I don't have to brag
So Baby don't call me up at three o'clock in the mornin' no more threatenin' suicide
I mean go ahead and do it honey cause wakin' me up is a drag
And you can leave a note for all the rest sayin' at least you had the very best
And he's so damn good that he don't have to brag
Now I'm warnin' all you women don't stand too close to me cause you might catch fire
Now you're talkin' to a man in a whole other kind of bag
I'm three parts tiger and one part snake I'll ball you to sleep and I'll bite you awake
And I'm so good that I don't have to brag
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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Sonnet: On Greatness
Greatness is not a thing, much like an art;
Some man turns great if on it he stumbles;
His greatness ceases, if he thinks, he's great;
Great is he truly who tho' great, humbles.
Greatness is not true greatness, self-proclaimed;
Greatness is not what world showers on us;
Greatness is neither got by being claimed.
Greatness is not achieved by making fuss.
Greatness could come if world decides to give;
Greatness will stay if God blesses our work;
Such greatness, God-destined comes while men live;
Greatness can grow even without much luck.
Greatness doesn't come to everyone on earth;
Some men are made great; some are great by birth.
poem by John Celes
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At The Pool Of Bethesda
I've been lying here another year
feeling all alone in my great fear.
Perhaps this time? You can never tell
Maybe it's my turn to be made well.
What's the commotion that I can hear?
Why is this man coming over here?
Look He is heading towards my way.
What is this that I've just heard him say?
'Do you want healing? ', To me He said
'Arise, walk now and take up your bed.'
Is this true and can this really be?
Is this great man really healing me?
Then entering this body of mine
came wondrous healing from the Divine.
No angel required, no water stirred
just from this man the commanding word.
Limbs for years that were lifeless and dead
became alive at the words He said.
Then I stood up to my great delight
and others saw the amazing sight.
The leaders said 'This should never be.'
For on the Sabbath He had healed me.
I did not know His wonderful name
this great man who to Bethesda came.
Then I went to the temple to pray
and met Him again I'm glad to say.
Found out His name as He said to me
'Stop sinning or much worse things will be.'
Back to the leaders I went to tell
that it was Jesus who'd made me well.
Why me? I can never really say
but I'm so glad that he healed that day.
John 5: 1-15—The Healing at the Pool of Bethesda
Written after a chat with my bedridden sister Irene.