At The Party
you meet faces of an uncle
some nephews
and nieces, even a brother
after some long years
not seeing them
you notice some changes
how the uncle has grown
a beard
your nephews getting
sophisticated
on the latest craze
electrical gadgets on their
ears and even noses
you nieces on their own lingo
you do not know much
anymore
more than they do
and your brother
you counted the gap
before he came to your life
ten years
yes ten years
you stare at him
and you get a scare
how come
you do not know him much
what anger is there
how come love
has not built a bridge
between your
far souls
you offer him a bottle of beer
and greet him
'when did you arrive? '
you ask him
it is too late
his wife steals his attention
and you would have asked him some more
existential questions
like 'how is life going with you? '
they are taking leave at once
someone is sick
and dying
he had no chance telling you
the gap now you count again
is not just ten years
it is more than that
and there is no bridge
no rainbow
always this wide river
this vast space this endless sea
you miss him somehow
yet you cannot say the word
oh, these modern times
always a masterpiece of
distance of alienation
something we have not dared
and we have not conquered
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
The Idea of Ancestry
Taped to the wall of my cell are 47 pictures: 47 black
faces: my father, mother, grandmothers (1 dead), grand-
fathers (both dead), brothers, sisters, uncles, aunts,
cousins (1st and 2nd), nieces, and nephews.They stare
across the space at me sprawling on my bunk.I know
their dark eyes, they know mine.I know their style,
they know mine.I am all of them, they are all of me;
they are farmers, I am a thief, I am me, they are thee.
I have at one time or another been in love with my mother,
1 grandmother, 2 sisters, 2 aunts (1 went to the asylum),
and 5 cousins.I am now in love with a 7-yr-old niece
(she sends me letters in large block print, and
her picture is the only one that smiles at me).
I have the same name as 1 grandfather, 3 cousins, 3 nephews,
and 1 uncle. The uncle disappeared when he was 15, just took
off and caught a freight (they say).He's discussed each year
when the family has a reunion, he causes uneasiness in
the clan, he is an empty space.My father's mother, who is 93
and who keeps the Family Bible with everbody's birth dates
(and death dates) in it, always mentions him.There is no
place in her Bible for "whereabouts unknown."
poem by Etheridge Knight
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To be pitiably old
Besides parents and grand parents,
Aunts and uncles were counted on.
Besides father and mother,
Nephews and nieces were counted on.
Besides brothers and sisters,
Sons and daughters were counted on.
Then their children were contemplated on.
I count days, with no more to be counted on.
20.10.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Oh, dear mother
Oh, dear mother
I lost my brother
He is alive and well
But as far as I can tell
To see me he has no desire
Oh, dear mother
My younger brother
I have to confess
Can care less
If nieces miss their uncle
Oh, dear mother
Please, tell my brother
He could be smart
But a life with no heart
Not a life, but a worst nightmare
Oh, dear mother
I love my brother
Dmitri, Dmitri
Nu chto ze ty pravo…
poem by Slava Olchevski
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Brother...
More than the blood of my blood. He is my friend,
my rock...my brother.
Brother, in times of need, never judging, always there.
My Brother, could, would, always make things right.
Brother, never made much ado, about the task at
hand...he just did it.
Brother, who lifted me, when I was down.
Brother, who brought the laughter, amid the pain.
Brother, the word he never spoke...was 'no'.
Brother, who had the answers, to my questions.
Brother, who by example, did walk the path of right.
Brother, in all my years...in all my life, never have
I met another...like my loving brother.
The Blood That Binds...
More than the blood of my blood. He is my friend,
my rock...my brother.
Brother, in times of need, never judging, always there.
My Brother, could, would, always make things right.
Brother, never made much ado, about the task at
hand...he just did it.
Brother, who lifted me, when I was down.
Brother, who brought the laughter, amid the pain.
Brother, the word he never spoke...was 'no'.
Brother, who had the answers, to my questions.
Brother, who by example, did walk the path of right.
Brother, in all my years...in all my life, never have
I met another...like my loving brother.
To My Brother...
More than the blood of my blood. He is my friend,
my rock...my brother.
Brother, in times of need, never judging, always there.
My Brother, could, would, always make things right.
Brother, never made much ado, about the task at
hand...he just did it.
Brother, who lifted me, when I was down.
Brother, who brought the laughter, amid the pain.
Brother, the word he never spoke...was 'no'.
Brother, who had the answers, to my questions.
Brother, who by example, did walk the path of right.
Brother, in all my years...in all my life, never have
I met another...like my loving brother.
He Is My Blood...
More than the blood of my blood. He is my friend,
my rock...my brother.
Brother, in times of need, never judging, always there.
My Brother, could, would, always make things right.
Brother, never made much ado, about the task at
hand...he just did it.
Brother, who lifted me, when I was down.
Brother, who brought the laughter, amid the pain.
Brother, the word he never spoke...was 'no'.
Brother, who had the answers, to my questions.
Brother, who by example, did walk the path of right.
Brother, in all my years...in all my life, never have
I met another...like my loving brother.
Lifelong Bonds...
More than the blood of my blood. He is my friend,
my rock...my brother.
Brother, in times of need, never judging, always there.
My Brother, could, would, always make things right.
Brother, never made much ado, about the task at
hand...he just did it.
Brother, who lifted me, when I was down.
Brother, who brought the laughter, amid the pain.
Brother, the word he never spoke...was 'no'.
Brother, who had the answers, to my questions.
Brother, who by example, did walk the path of right.
Brother, in all my years...in all my life, never have
I met another...like my loving brother.
Regrets stored
Uncle, aunt and granny,
All poured me love in plenty.
They were gone before I could repay.
There were a great many
Who lent their hands and money.
They were gone before I could repay.
Parents gave me love and blood
And guarded me from any crash.
They were done in benevolent neglect.
Cousins, nieces and nephews,
On whom I showered honey.
Had licked it and slipped away.
There were scattered peers,
Whom I pleased in all spheres.
Ere my asking, they vanished.
Daughter and son were the hopes,
Who too, as grown up, broke their rope
And had no time to repay.
I leave as much creditors
As I have had debtors in my life.
Kindly tally, my Creator.
21.10.97
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Conducator
Silence suddenly is
Shattered by the blaring of
Trumpets and a booming voice
As a herald proudly announces:
These are happy times and
We should all rejoice
So make way for the king
The queen and the prince
The princess and nephews and nieces and others
So make way for the king
His uncle
song performed by by Benny Andersson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Peace Be With You, My Brother
You have bitten my arm and
Drawn blood
Peace be with you my brother
You have gnawed my bones and
Eaten my leaves
Peace be with you my brother
You have withered my mother and
Stolen the years
Peace be with you my brother
You have taken my wife and
Left with my trust
Peace be with you my brother
And now life is good
Full and drunk
Pain part of the arc
Love is free and easy
Love is pulled from the dark
Sun is warm
Rain is fresh
And years flow
As years and water should
Peace be with you my brother
poem by Guillermo Veloso
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Queen And Country
The wind is on the river and the tide has turned too late,
So we're sailing for another shore where some other ladies wait
To throw us silken whispers: catch us by the anchor chains -
But we all laugh so politely and we sail on just the same
For Queen and Country in the long dying day.
And it's been this way for five long years since we signed our souls away.
We bring back gold and ivory; rings of diamonds; strings of pearls -
Make presents to the government so they can have their social whirl
With Queen and Country in the long dying day.
And it's been this way for five long years since we signed our souls away.
For Queen and Country in the long dying day.
And it's been this way for five long years since we signed our souls away.
They build schools and they build factories
With the spoils of battles won.
And we remain their pretty sailor boys - hold our heads up to the gun
Of Queen and Country in the long dying day.
And it's been this way for five long years since we signed our souls away.
To Queen and Country in the long dying day.
And it's been this way for five long years since we signed our souls away.
To Queen and Country in the long dying day.
And it's been this way for five long years since we signed our souls away
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Lie
For William Verdun Harris
My late brother.
It started years before I was born,
but the lie came into being after.
I knew nothing of it, why should I?
You never question your parents,
what they tell you, you believe.
Therefore, the lie grew and grew
as years folded into one another.
The lie became accepted as the truth.
Its hurt would not be felt
before four score and more had passed.
A Christmas card with a note from an Aunt.
Your half brother Bill would love to hear from you.
Half brother? I have no half brother.
He is your adopted brother
and my adopted uncle, so I was told.
No, he is your half brother.
I investigated what was said.
Soon the truth of the lie was revealed.
The lie had split two brothers,
to the other sides of the world.
Through urgent phone calls, I found him.
I had to see him, too many years had passed.
Who knows how long we had?
Travel plans were made,
the journey was now set.
After forty-two years, we came face to face.
Hug, tears and a family get together.
Those lost faces from the other side of the world.
We talked and talked into the night,
so much to learn and so little time.
Two weeks went quick and we parted again.
The telephone a communication line,
but how do you make up so many years,
with such little time?
The answer is you don’t.
The next year we extended our visit,
but still it wasn’t long enough.
We would never get another year,
within months my brother was gone,
and for months, I missed his calls.
But the lie was never retracted,
and my sister never got to know,
the other brother that she had.
She still believes the lie,
and won’t accept the truth.
She does not talk to me,
not out of anything either of us has done.
The long distant lie is at fault,
the guilt no one could admit to,
because they felt it would bring great shame.
Now a family lies in tatters,
a sad story all that remains,
about a lie, which almost the truth became.
What will the future bring, that’s something we can never tell.
I for one, hold no one with any ill will.
poem by David Harris
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Calves of the ass lovely
Nephews and nieces were darlings of mine
When they were children going around me
Like the calves of the ass. Having grown up now
They look as the ass does..
28.06.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Kin
Brother, I am fire
Surging under the ocean floor.
I shall never meet you, brother—
Not for years, anyhow;
Maybe thousands of years, brother.
Then I will warm you,
Hold you close, wrap you in circles,
Use you and change you—
Maybe thousands of years, brother.
poem by Carl Sandburg
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We Don’t Need Big Brother
We don’t need Big Brother.
We don’t need to watch other people
For our own amusement.
We don’t need Big Brother
Following us all around.
We don’t need Big Brother
Watching us all the time.
1984 is 22 years gone,
And Big Brother lives on.
Wannabes and losers vying
For our attention,
Hoping for fame,
Which lasts for 15 minutes,
If their lucky.
What a world we have become,
When we rely on Big Brother
To feed us idiots to follow around.
We have become Big Brother,
Yet 1984 is 22 years gone.
1/08/06
poem by Charlie F. Kane
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First Trip To The Ranch
I had a lot of questions
Duriing my first trip
I'd seen picutres
Heard stories
I had never been
My uncle's car was loaded down
I'm not sure how many he was expecting
We were carrying enough food
To feed them all
First time I had ever been
Off the main highway
Off the last paved county road
It'd been a while since
The last stretch had been graveled
Slow bumps last leg of the trip
The first to meet us
When we got close
Were the staggering pigs
My uncle was smiling big
For the rest of my first trip
He turned to my aunt
In the front seat
I was in the back
Between lots of beer and boxes of cut meat
We were almost there
'Looks like Delbert's been cookin''
Was all he said
I had no idea 'til years later
Not something they discussed
In front of us kids
Ranch had original wood stove
Recent indoor plumbing
Outhouse still stood at the ready
If needed
For the overflow crowd
Found out years later
Why the pigs were as happy
As the rest of the crowd
They - -pigs that is
Were fed the remaing corn mash
Used to cook the shine
Had enough kick left
For them to greet my uncle
With the good news
On my first trip
Turned out to be
A great weekend
Family reunion
Good times
Had by all
poem by Tom J. Mariani
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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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Queen & Country
The wind is on the river and the tide has turned too late,
So were sailing for another shore where some other ladies wait.
To throw us silken whispers: catch us by the anchor chains ---
But we all laugh so politely and we sail on just the same.
For queen and country in the long dying day,
And its been this way for five long years,
Since we signed our souls away.
We bring back gold and ivory; rings of diamonds; strings of pearls ---
Make presents to the government
So they can have their social whirl
With queen and country in the long dying day.
And its been this way for five long years
Since we signed our souls away.
They build schools and they build factories
With the spoils of battles won.
And we remain their pretty sailor boys ---
Hold our heads up to the gun
Of queen and country in the long dying day.
And its been this way for five long years
Since we signed our souls away.
To queen and country in the long dying day.
And its been this way for five long years
Since we signed our souls away.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The man to whom god gives no children, the devil gives nieces and nephews.