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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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A photograph never grows old. You and I change, people change all through the months and years, but a photograph always remains the same. How nice to look at a photograph of mother or father taken many years ago. You see them as you remember them. But as people live on, they change completely. That is why I think a photograph can be kind.
quote by Albert Einstein
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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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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My grand dad
I remember you grand dad
Back since I was only three
I remember you granddad
How much you adored me
I remember you grand dad
How you made me smile
I remember you grand dad
You made my toddler years worthwhile
I remember you grand dad
Your lovely smell of tobacco
I remember you grand dad
The love for others you would show
I remember you grand dad
When I came to see you, you would give me a jellybean
I remember you grand dad
You always made me feel like a queen
I remember you grand dad
And I miss you everyday
She Was A Nice Old Lady
Does it really matter one little bit at all
If only her family and her few friends memories of her do recall
She was a nice old lady that much of her I did know
But she did not die easily her end painful and slow
I had not seen her for somewhile but sad am I to say
That this evening one who knew her told me she was buried yesterday
In the flesh she will not be seen walking in the park again
But fond memories of her in those who knew her are destined to remain
Pre-deceased by her husband he died ten years ago
Their only offspring a Granddad in his late fifties the years on him begin to show
To her son she was a good mother and to her husband she was a good wife
A kind and caring person and one who did love life
Since her husband life departed she had lived on her own
She did not have a public profile and she was not well known.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Dads, Lads, And Granddads
Lads, Dads, and Granddads Free verse
My grandson,
skipping along, an eight year young kid
Behind his Dad, his hero, his idol,
his bright shining model
Sees him tall, straight, tough and confident
Sees a McMuffin buyer, a baseball coach and a dad
My grandson
sees not…. a loser, a slacker
Mostly absentee father,
lazy and irresponsible
Two days a week of being a dad
Providing little or nothing to ex-wife or son
My grandson,
I see in myself, skipping along
Following behind my dad
Who is tall, straight and confident
Giving me comfort, making me feel strong
My Dad
Taught me fishing and hunting
Not to lie, to attempt all manly things
and try not to fail or fall
he feared absolutely nothing and
could absolutely do it all
My Dad
was brave and made me proud
I skipped along behind him as well,
My bright shining model
Embarrassed by him? Never!
Proud of him always and ever
My Dad,
To others, a different man perhaps, than the man I knew.
likely so….Yes, most probably so
My grandson
in his memories I hope, forever sees
his dad, not as he really was,
but In the same way that I see mine.
Perfect! ….Yes, most probably so.
poem by David Whalen
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Ooh La La
(original by Faces)
Poor old granddad I laughed at all his words
I thought he was a bitter man
He spoke of women's ways
They'll trap you then they use you & before you even know
For love is blind and you're far too kind
Don't ever let it show
I wish that I knew what I know now
when I was younger
I wish that I knew what I know now
when I was stronger
The can-can such a pretty show
will steal your heart away
But backstage back on earth again
The dressing rooms are grey
They come on strong and it ain't too long
For they make you feel a man
But love is blind and you soon will find
you're just a boy again
When you want her lips, you get her cheek
Makes you wonder where you are
if you want some more then she's fast asleep
Leaves you twinkling with the stars
Poor young grandson there's nothing I can say
You'll have to learn, just like me
And that's the hardest way, ooh la la
I wish that I knew what I know now
when I was younger
I wish that I knew what I know now
when I was stronger
song performed by by Counting Crows
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Granddad and Jean Harlow.
Granddad said he saw
Jean Harlow once
While making deliveries
to the studio lot
and there she was
he said
real hot
just there
and looking my way
and I was struck dumb
my lips stiffened
my eyes were glued
and as she walked by
there was that glint
of unhappiness
that caught my eye
and I wanted
to reach out
a hand and touch
the goddess
of my dreams
but then she was gone
and the delivery made
I made my way
out of the lot
the truck heading
for the gates
the whole panoramic view
behind me
and she
Jean Harlow
back there somewhere
waiting for the next shot
and there was me
leaving that slice
of hell or heaven
the fantasy lot
and Granddad
sitting by the fire
his gaze elsewhere
maybe thinking
of Harlow
just beyond
his sad stare
some where.
poem by Terry Collett
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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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The Photograph
Hands old and poor, her back bent and sore,
She lifts from the drawer, the photograph
Though tattered and torn, through years it has worn,
But still bears the form of the man she knew
Her eyes are weak, spilling tears on her cheek
Her lips start to speak to the photograph
She tells him with pride, she still loves him inside
Though years ago died, la da da da
La, la da, la da, la da da, la da, la da da,
La la la da da,
La, la da, la da, la da da, la da, la da da,
La la la da da
And all of the people she knew, who she knows no more
Who dont know the score say,
We wonder why, she never married, such a
Pretty girl she was, such a lovely face she had,
Such a pretty thing she was, once
She turns to her right, to put out the light,
And wishes goodnight to the photograph
Her love, though its strong and lasted this long,
And goes on and on, shes still in love
La, la da, la da, la da da, la da, la da da,
La la la da da,
La, la da, la da, la da da, la da, la da da,
La la la da da
song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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.
The Day Old Shep Died
it's been thirty years,
that he's been gone,
the day he died, brought tears,
all day, i played his song.
for nine long years,
i loved him and he loved me,
the day he died, broght tears,
toward the end, he could barely see.
when he died, i was seventeen years,
my child hood died that day,
the day he died, brought tears,
during his youth, we were always at play.
him and i was, so close in years,
when i got shep he was five and i eight,
the day he died brought tears,
he always ate his meals, off our plate.
he died at eighty-four in human years,
he lived to a ripe old age,
the day he died brought tears,
for this poem, he set the stage.
i can't believe, its been so many years,
i think about him, all the time,
the day he died, brought tears,
but old shep, was all mind.
of all these many years,
no dog has taken the place of old shep,
the day he died, brought tears,
i'll always remember, that dog with pep
in memory of old shep 1946-1960 written june 21,1990