Adventure
My grandfather, Charlie
Began that family trait!
He had a moving company...
The first of its kind,
In a city that draped its hate!
They didn't say it openly,
But it was known to segregate.
And Charlie did the best he could,
To see his family didn't suffer and ate!
And the family grew to be much more than eight!
By the time I was eight my grandma and pop...
Had popped out eighteen!
My uncle Gay Hall and aunt Virginia,
Were the last to dropp on this scene!
And Charlie saw it well,
That grandma never worked...
She had raised Twenty-one of her own.
And it was always an adventure then,
To see who would love...and to see who love would hurt!
To watch mama and papa take care of their kin!
Nothing what I've done has ever been
That adventurous to be driven
To protect AND defend!
Not to us who didn't know
What we know now but not back then.
Not back in those days!
Nothing what I've done
Has been that adventurous on my plate!
I'm glad my grandpa gave me a little taste of my fate.
I guess my grandpa left me something,
I could easily neglect...no matter what the debate.
Easily if not injected with a bit adventure in my blood...
And 'gifts' he left me I will always respect!
And much appreciate!
Because of my grandpa,
Any adventure from a kindred center,
Growing with it and letting it create!
I've always wanted that next adventure....
One
To be the very best...and giving me the shakes!
Thinking of adventure as something to expect!
Wanting more each time its done.
Wanting it just like sex! I guess.
Nothing what I've done of late...
Has made me want adventure less!
Nothing I can remember in September.
Maybe
When it begins to become cool and shady!
And just 'maybe'...
I'll suspect and seize the adventure in October,
If it presents and these attached
Grandpa family tied 'adventurements'
Don't drive me crazy!
Sometimes we have to give time just to be lazy!
To rest and refresh!
Special thanks:
Diane Violet
For the closing line in this poem!
AND I've since 'added' onto 'that line'!
Thanks again, Dee...
~for 'refresh'~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Related quotes
Living A Boys Adventure Tale
(pal waaktaar/morten harket)
Ive fixed my dwelling for the night
Lights in pairs come passing by
Where I hide
I need some time now on my own
Leave my loneliness alone
To lick my wounds
Night has found me just in time
To help me close my eyes
One more time
Living a boys adventure tale
In so many ways
Living a boys adventure tale
For so many days
Im living a boys adventure tale
Cant escape, if I wanted to
Living a boys adventure tale
I may be dreaming but I feel awake
Ive been lost in so many places
Seeked love in so many faces
A change of weather,
The rain pours down
My head in hands,
Pressed to the ground
And where am I supposed to go now
Living a boys adventure tale
In so many ways
Living a boys adventure tale (aah)
Living a boys adventure tale
A voice I hear
Living a boys adventure tale
Singing a lullaby for me
Living a boys adventure tale
Because of you
Living a boys adventure
Oh you know its true
Living a boys adventure tale
In so many ways (aah)
For so many days
I love you. I love you
So many ways
song performed by by A-Ha

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Thankless Scions
Grandma was in isolation
She was in an isle of distress
The children whom she fed
With the blood turned milk
In her breasts
Have all flown and vanished
And she left abandoned
With the linings all over
In mind and skin
Heralding the arrival
Of the frail old December
Of the life, the end of the span!
The marvelous culture
Of a house- hold adorned
With grandma and grandpa
With children and grand children
Went into oblivion!
The grandma and grandpa
Is a hindrance to their children
Is a bad omen to scions
And an inconvenience
To the young and dynamic!
Grandma and grandpa
Are ignored and caged
As of a dog or parrot
And fed like a slave
Tied to a pole in chains!
The thankless sons and daughters
Never care the sufferings
And sacrifices of Ma and Papa
And they want to be alone
As being youthful in spirit
And are eager to enjoy
The spring of life
Where they hate the face of autumn!
Grandma, Grandpa, Ma and Papa
Are omen of autumn
That they never wish to sight!
The young whose blood
Rushes with the fuel of Ma's milk
Forget that the green leaves
Will turn yellow
And wither away
And an autumn is is hibernation
To embrace them tomorrow!
poem by Vadakkumpurath Ramesan

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Grandpas Rocking Chair for M lady Chitra
On the front porch a rocking chair
nobody uses no one dare
Nor dare they move it anywhere.
Grandpa decreed it must stay there
What grandpa said was what he meant
he left no room for argument.
He simply stated his intent
Though other folk felt different
When Grandpa died the family tried
to set his iron rule aside
You’ll rue this day their Grandma cried
Your Grandpa will not be defied.
They moved the chair to show they could
though grandma did not think they should
She warned them all that nothing good
would come of this. She understood
although she knew Grandpa was dead.
She knew he’d rise in wrathful pride
to reinforce what he has said.
His last command before he died.
The chair was moved despite her pleas.
Her warnings were not listened to.
From that day on they knew no peace
Til grandma told them what to do
The rocking chair must be restored
to where Grandpa said it should be.
They all agreed of one accord
the chair replaced immediately.
Sometimes at night it seems to be
moving gently slowly rocking
Although there’s nothing they can see
they know that Grandpas visiting.
To see his word is still obeyed.
That no one moves his rocking chair.
Nobody will they’re too afraid.
They know sometimes he still sits there.
27-Oct-08
http: // blog.myspace.com/poetic piers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg

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Old Upright Piano
For as long as I remember, when friday night came round
The family would gather out at grandpas house.
With supper over and the dishes done
It was then the best time came
At an old upright piano that only grandma played.
She played beautiful dreamer, my wild irish rose;
She never played em perfect, but there was love in every note.
Grandpa sat beside her, in harmony they sang,
At the old upright piano that only grandma played.
Grandpa was a stubborn man, they said it was his style.
Grandma called him ornery, but she said it with a smile.
Even he could not disguise the love he felt so strong;
We all could see it in his eyes when she played his favorite song.
She played beautiful dreamer, my wild irish rose;
She never played em perfect, but there was love in every note.
Grandpa sat beside her, in harmony they sang,
At the old upright piano that only grandma played.
I was almost 17 when my grandma died;
I stayed all night with grandpa; the old man never cried.
He sat at her piano, there was nothing we could say
It was the first time in my life I ever heard my grandpa play.
It wasnt beautiful dreamer or my wild irish rose
It was a song he played from memory & he never missed a note
I sat right there beside him until the morning came
What a friend we have in jesus was the only song he played.
She played beautiful dreamer, my wild irish rose;
She never played em perfect, but there was love in every note.
Grandpa sat beside her, in harmony they sang,
At the old upright piano that only grandma played.
song performed by by Nitty Gritty Dirt Band

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It used to take courage--indeed, it was the act of courage par excellence--to leave the comforts of home and family and go out into the world seeking adventure. Today there are fewer places to discover, and the real adventure is to stay at home.
quote by Alvaro de Solva

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bouncing Pony
Joey is an adventurous little boy
A bouncing pony is his birthday present
Grandpa Joe’s heart is filled with joy.
Let me help you into the saddle to enjoy
Youthful squeals eagerly express intent
Joey is an adventurous little boy
Into the stirrups Joey’s feet are employed
Energy is engaged one hundred percent
Grandpa Joe’s heart is filled with joy.
Reins are grasped by a miniature cowboy…
The eager steed bolts and away they went
Joey is an adventurous little boy.
The spirits of two generations join as one…
Their smiles and laughter are frequent
Grandpa Joe’s heart is filled with joy.
Motion slows as Joey dismounts and runs
Bouncing onto Grandpa’s lap and giving a hug
Joey is an adventurous little boy
Grandpa Joe’s heart is filled with joy.
(9/10/07)
poem by Theresa Ann Moore

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First Adventure
Two tigers traipsed their jungle jaunt,
With nothing else in sight,
The universe itself to taunt
And ready for a fight!
It didn't matter, great or small,
For neither tiger cared,
This was their moment, walking tall,
Their first adventure shared!
So stride for stride they strutted forth,
Exploring, come what may,
Yes, forward east, west, south or north,
Until the end of day...
Together, proud and jubilant,
Triumphant tigers still,
It didn't matter where they went
And, boy, was it a thrill!
Their first adventure, on the prowl,
No Mum and Dad in tow,
With nothing but a mighty growl
As onward they must go!
United, steadfast, confident!
Give them a real wide berth...
If they see you, stay nonchalant
And run for all you're worth!
Denis Martindale, copyright, August 2010.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'First Adventure'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot.com
poem by Denis Martindale

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A Hidden Place
A place is hidden on the map,
May the paper adjust for the better.
You may cry, you may end this matter,
But adventure has resonance of pain
And colours of the rainbow.
Do we see our people unite with us
About the travels of the stars and planets?
The hidden adventure is about God,
Feelings cut into half are told to substances
Called elements and compounds.
But does God adjust paper of formulae
In the hope of our adventure?
Do we see God as an adventurer of mighty thoughts?
But do we see those men who do prosper?
poem by Naveed Akram

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Dear Self
Life might be shitty now,
But it might get better.
Just think about the fun,
You had when you were little.
Think about Joey,
Speedy,
Emily,
Sassy,
Andy,
Your friends,
Who love you.
Think about Grandma,
And Grandpa.
About the time,
You lost your tooth,
When you bit into a rib.
When you and Joey,
Got stuck under the bed.
Or when you and Joey,
Wne t on an adventure,
To rescue a King,
From a dragon.
Or when you and Joey,
Went through a portal,
And fought,
Space monkeys.
Or when you nd Joey,
Watched Spongebob.
Or when Sassy,
Always watched Grandma,
When she would feed you.
Or when you rescued,
That kitten.
Or when you,
Healed that baby bird.
Or helped that dog,
Find his owner.
Just think of the,
Happy things in life.
From,
Past shitty life.
poem by Dragon Crenshaw

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One last time.
One last time daddy hold me close to your heart.
One last time daddy let's play Scrabble so I can win.
Daddy one more time to walk together, talking about the next trip.
Daddy for the very, last time tell me that you love me very much so.
Mommy one last time, doing my make-up for me.
One last time mommy, cook tacos and cake for a birthday.
Just one last time mommy, the laugh that we will never forget.
Mommy just one more time to go to the mall together with your best friend.
One last time sister, playing with dolls in your room that your share with me.
Sister one more time to ride daddy's motorcycle with him.
Sister just one more time to cook with mommy and daddy.
One last time sister to share a room, wear each other clothes.
Brother one more time for the fun, old memories when we never fought.
Brother one more time fun of it chasing the dogs around the yard.
One last time brother to go running through the woods for you.
Brother one more time to play hide and go seek for grandpa.
One last time grandma cooking for the family reunion and grandma for the very last time measure a skirt.
One last time grandma to sew and sew the skirt for me to wear on Sunday.
Grandma one more time to get the laughs all the time.
One more time grandpa to read the Christmas story from the Bible.
Grandpa one more time for memories sake hide and go seek up in the trees.
One last time hold me tight please do not let me go.
Please one more time let me go to sleep on your lap.
poem by Debra George

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I believe that all of us have the capacity for one adventure inside us, but great adventure is facing responsibility day after day.
quote by William Gordon

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Death, an adventure
Death is the greatest adventure.
No adventure is bigger than that.
Those of Hercules and Ulysses
Are less than deaths that we will face.
02.05.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar

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I Wish I Could
I wish I could tell you I love you
I wish I could take back those times I did not
But I can't and I never can
I wish I could take back those times that I was mean
That I had an attitude
But I can't and I never can
I realized to late what you mean to me
Grandpa I love you
Grandpa I miss you….I'm sorry for my tears
You saved me from the orphanage where you were forced to go
You saved my baby brother's life but I never said thank you
Grandpa I love you
Grandpa I miss you…..I'm sorry for my tears
I can never again hug you
I can only see your smile in your pictures
I can never ask about the wars you fought in
I can never hear your stories again
Grandpa I love you
Grandpa I miss you…….I'm sorry for my tears
I wish I could tell you I love you
But I can never do it again
poem by Rachel Dowd

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Kids
Kids - kids, Christmas i-is for kids
Look around and you will see
Kids from one to ninety-three
Laughin', lovin' life and bein' kids
Kids - ki-i-i-ids, Christmas i-is for kids
Kids like you and little brother
Aunts and uncles, dads and mothers
Grandma, grandpa an' all the other kids
Daddy runs the 'lectric train
While all the children wait in vain
To take their turn
At playin' engineer
Grandpa catches grandma's cheek
And all the family sneaks a peak
And suddenly
Their wrinkles disappear
Take a look at Betty Joe
Underneath the mistletoe
Pretending that
She doesn't know it's there
And in the front yard Uncle Mike
Just fell off brother's brand new bike
There's Christmas cheer
And laughter everywhere
Kids (kids) - ki-i-i-ids (kids)
Christmas i-is for kids
Christmas time is here again
And now it's when the fun begins
This time of year we all turn into kids...
song performed by by Kenny Rogers

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'm My Own Grandpa
It was many many years ago when I was twenty-three,
I was married to a widow, she's as pretty as can be.
This widow had a grown-up daughter who had hair of red,
my father fell in lover with her, and soon these two were wed.
I'm my own grandpa, I'm my own grandpa.
It sounds silly, I know, but it really is so, oh
I'm my own grandpa.
This made my dad my son-in-law and changed my very life:
My daughter was my mother 'cause she was my father's wife.
And then to complicate the matter, though it brought me joy,
I soon became the father of a bouncing baby boy.
This bouncing baby then became a brother-in-law to dad,
and so became my uncle, though it made me very sad,
for if he was my uncle then he also was the brother
of the widow's grown-up daughter, who, of course, was my step-mother.
I'm my own grandpa, I'm my own grandpa.
It sounds silly, I know, but it really is so, oh
I'm my own grandpa.
Father's wife then had a son who kept them on the run.
And he became my grandchild, for he was my daughter's son.
My wife is now my mother's mother, and it makes me blue,
because although she is my wife, she's my grandmother, too.
Now if my wife is my grandmother, then I am her grandchild.
And every time I think of it, it nearly drives me wild.
For now I have become the strangest case you ever saw.
Husband of my grandmother, I am my own grandpa.
I'm my own grandpa, I'm my own grandpa.
It sounds silly, I know, but it really is so, oh
I'm my own grandpa.
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein

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Grandpa Told Me So
(mark alan springer/james dean hicks)
If you dont get in the water youre never gonna learn to swim
He said a snake is just as scared of you as you are of him
He could tell by the moon when the fish would bite
Seems there was nothing that he didnt know
And as a kid I believed cause grandpa told me so
He talked daddy into letting me have my first car
I thought I was really something til becky thompson broke my heart
That first taste of love really did me in
Getting over her slow
And I knew someday I would cause grandpa told me so
He said life is made for you to live
The best love is the love that you give
Therell be times when you wanna hold on but you gotta let go
And I live by those words cause grandpa told me so
I promised him I wouldnt cry when it was his time to leave
Thats the only promise I made him I couldnt keep
He smiled from his bed and said well meet again
Somewhere down the road
And I believe cause grandpa told me so
He said life is made for you to live
The best love is the love that you give
Therell be times when you wanna hold on but you gotta let go
And I live by those words cause grandpa told me so
He said life is made for you to live
The best love is the love that you give
Therell be times when you wanna hold on but you gotta let go
And I live by those words cause grandpa told me so
Yeah and I still believe
Grandpa told me so
Grandpa told me so
I still believe
Grandpa told me so
I still believe...
song performed by by Kenny Chesney

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I have found adventure in flying, in world travel, in business, and even close at hand... Adventure is a state of mind - and spirit.
quote by Jacqueline Cochran

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Christmas (A Sestina)
Christmas is here, Jesus to the world brought peace
Everyone is rested as kids spend time with family
Kitchens are ablaze, wives creating good ol’ soul-food
Leslie and Destra, await their turn, under the mistletoe
Love is burning bright, outshining the fireplace
And playing kids fill the house with laughter
Worries are swept away, sadness replaced by laughter
As love flies through the air, enemies make peace
Whilst sweet carols are sung by the fireplace
We thank God for the greatest gift of family
As grandma and grandpa steal a kiss, under the mistletoe
My tummy just yelled: where is my soul-food?
Memories to the tongue, grandma’s special soul-food
Don’t know how, but to my tongue, it brings laughter.
Grandma and Grandpa are still under the mistletoe
Showing love so ancient, a picture of heaven’s peace
They are the beginning and measure of our family
Captured purely in pictures taken by the fireplace
Love bubbles deep within, and around the fireplace
As its oil fuses with the spice of Grandma’s soul-food.
Moriah, the youngest; four weeks added to the family
Her little eyes sparkle, her little face filled with laughter
Looking at her, so lovely, One is taken into peace
In times coming soon, her place would be the mistletoe
Her's would be lovely and her destiny the mistletoe
And she too, someday would have her own fireplace
As she grows to celebrate and cherish Christmas peace,
She would learn from Grandma, how to craft soul-food
Her kids would fill the house solely with laughter
As one day, she would have her a family
Fresh out the womb, Moriah completes the family
Even as Grandma and her boo are still by the mistletoe
Their love brings to the heart tears and laughter
Treasures of joy. Now we depart from the fireplace
To the table to dive into some soul-food
That the wives had made in love, and peace.
Thank God for family! Gazing at the fireplace
And the mistletoe, loving me some soul-food
That sets my tongue on laughter, I thank God for peace.
Copyright © 2009 Leslie Alexis
poem by Leslie Alexis

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I'm still a kid inside, and adventure is adventure wherever you find it.
Why Can't Family Be Family Again
why can't family be family again
we used to always be friends
we used to huddle together
whenever we got scared
we felt the warmth in one anothers arms
because we knew the love was there
we used to build forts out of whatever we had in our rooms
and wage sars
throwing pillows, books, and brooms
we used to have mini mosh pits
with just the four of us
we headbanged and pushed
we screamed and pretended to cuss
we used to protect eachother
we used to defend one another
we used to stand together like brothers and sister
when mom punished us we would all resist her
we used to be a family
a family that would always care
we used to be a family with more happiness than despair
we used to be a family that never hogged food or air
we used to be a family that told eachother we were there
we used to be a family
a family that sat down toghether and ate
we used to be a family full of our own ideas that we create
we used to be a family that got along without debate
we used to be a family with more love than hate
so why can't family be family again
and remember why those times were so good
why can't family be family again
and treat eachother the way we should
why can't family be family again
and throw the hate away
why can't family be family again
and invite the love to stay
poem by Marco Jimenez

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