Cousin....
you know my name, cousin.
you always call me by my name
always in the shallow part of the river
placid, i am, like a linen spread in bed
before sleep time,
we are bathing
and we tell stories about our ancestors
those brave warriors from the north
moving south, finding some fortune long denied them by fate
one day
you prefer to dive with me in the Deep
to find some pearls
the whirlpool sucked you in
and i tried to help, but you allowed it just the same to claim you
up there is the storm of sinking ships
down in where we are is the peaceful ocean floor
i touch your hand and then you breathe again
but it is too late then, you ask me who i am?
but i cannot speak anymore
for now i belong not to the earth but to the sea, the deepest sea
cousin, i am not your cousin.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
I have a cousin named....
I have a cousin named tru,
Who is always more excited than you,
He jumps an dhe bounces,
in so many houses,
I have a cousin named tru,
Who might belong in a zoo,
He moos and he poos,
while on the news.
I have a cousin named tru,
Who will try o say boo,
when you come out the lou.
I have a cousin named tru,
Who probably won't say goo,
Because he's ay older than two,
Whose name is not sue.
I cousin named tru...
I love you tru!
The Electric Train Set
The electric train set
Was laid out upstairs
in a large room
in your cousin’s house.
It compared unfairly
with your own
hand wound train set
at home, shut up in a box.
Your cousin pushed buttons
and the train and carriages
raced around
the long winding track
as you both looked on,
each with your own
deep down thoughts
and boyish dreams.
No labour involved,
no fingers needed
to wind the train,
no small circle
of metal track
as yours had at home,
but a room spread of track
in wider circle
from here, there and back.
You eyed your cousin’s train set
with a mixture
of envy and awe
as you watched it
race speedily around the floor.
poem by Terry Collett
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Cousin Randy
Muir-Trujillo-
He'd disappear for years, then one day he would just show
Dad would buy him shows (shoes?), give him $50 and he'd go
He talked about the good old days of war in Vietnam
Did two tours of duty with his new love heroin
You knew he'd be covicted before he was ever tried
Did his time in Chino, then Folsom and Wayside
But every day was prison, molested as a kid
Abused by his stepfather, hard to believe the things he did
We call him Cousin Randy
Couldn't get up in the morning, couldn't get to sleep at night
Swore the room was full of Demons, but nothin' was in our sight
No one was safe when Randy came out to play
He would leave you for dead and then just walk away
We call him Cousin Randy
One time while at Grandma's, it was getting kind of late
Randy stayed outside 'cause his odor was so great
He walked out the door and I told him "good night"
He charged me, grabbed my neck and he started squeezing tight
Dad and Jim and Grandpa jumped on to his back
He screamed "What's so good about it" before he let up his attack
The neck day, while we were swimming, he tried to drown my sister
Laughing as she struggled, then he pulled her up and kissed her
We call him Cousin Randy. To us, he's just Cousin Randy
song performed by by Infectious Grooves
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Beach Boy Blues
(words & music by sid tepper - roy bennett)
Im a poor hawaiian beach boy
A long way from the beach
cause someone shoved his face against my hand
Now Im a kissing cousin to a ripe pineapple
Im in the can
I was minding my own business
But drinking daddys juice
I swear Ill never touch that stuff again
Just like a pig before he gave his all that aluhau
Im in the pen
Got those beach boy blues
Dont the time go slow
Lonely beach boy blues
Only 30 days and 90 years to go
I want a taste of honey
From my wahinis lips
I want to be her ever loving man
But Im a kissing cousin to a ripe pineapple
Im in the can
But Im a kissing cousin to a ripe pineapple
Im in the can
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Joke 11 The Umpty Tump
City cousin to country cousin on seeing a molehill for the first time: 'What's that? '
Country Cousin: 'An umpty tump'.
City cousin: 'What's an umpty tump? '
Country cousin: 'A tump that the umpty makes.'
City cousin: 'But what's an umpty? '
Country cousin: 'Him that makes the tump ye daft fool! '
poem by by unknown author
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You Die Cousin And They Are Not There
Today cousin is the day you die
Your wife is in Japan and your kids are out there
In the care of your mother
Your sister has despised you
Your brother does not bother anymore
Now that you are nobody, with no money
With nothing to make you look like
A gentleman
Everyone has deserted you cousin
What have you done?
When once you were alive
When once you can offer them everything
Your kids their education
Your wife a house, a car
Your sister and brother your money and attention
You were so important then
Times have changed
You are down and fettered
In alcohol you drown yourself to forget
Finally what you wished has been granted
Death, you wish for death
Goodbye cousin, the stories are always long
There is no time to tell
There is no use to reveal
The great heart you still have
The generosity that was
The love that you have that was always greater
Than they all keep for themselves
I know,
Your final rest and your silence
You shall now make the final justification
To the Great Lord, the Ultimate Reason
Why you never build a home?
You, on this lonely tomb
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Jojo
The red angel,
The white angel,
The blue angel,
The black angel,
It is a very long time that we've heard from you people;
But, where is Jojo my cousin?
The windows of heaven were opened to rain for forty days,
And forty nights without seeing you my cousin;
But two by two they went into the ark.
Oh Jojo where are you?
Like the cold and the heat and the winter and the summer,
You are gone for many days and we are yet to see you again.
Of the seed time and the harvest time,
Jojo my cousin where are you?
Try to tell us your where about when you read this message.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Jesus Said
The thief of lives
stole my cousin's
breath away
sleep now dear cousin
forever in peace
in fields of swaying daffodils.
Jesus said
there is room
in my father's house
for everyone
and I am the way.
His words comfort me.
poem by Vince Gullaci
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Well I was eight years old, and I have an older cousin who is three years older than me and she was doing acting, commercials, and modeling at the time and... to see my cousin doing that was really inspiring and I wanted to do it. So I went to my mom and I asked her if I could do it, and for the acting part of it, she made me study for a year.
quote by Hailee Steinfeld
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cousin Bobbie
I lost you, I lost my cousin,
On that gloomy Christmas day.
The day was supposed to be full of happiness,
but instead was full of dismay.
I was so happy when I ran down stairs that Christmas morn,
And when my mother told me you had died it felt like someone
jabbed me with a thorn.
I lost you, I lost my cousin
On that Christmas day.
So tell me cousin Bobbie why do I still feel so depressed,
about your death.
poem by Angelina DeCarles
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Our Soldier Cousin
Glide, river, gently to the sea;
Sing dirges low and tender;
Bear partings oft breathed near to thee,
By patriot truth-defenders;
Waft soothing murmurs from thy shores,
To hearts so fondly loving;
One sigh for us, who, more and more,
Grieve for a soldier cousin.
Glow, campfires, with your glittering gleam,
On hill, in covert valley,
While dim the flickering taper beams,
Upon his pallet lowly.
Dread fever dried his young life's fount,
Yet reason came at even;
He spoke of home, then upward mounts
His soul - that soldier cousin's.
'Twas this he said - to them now dear,
These words, so so fitly spoken -
'Tell father, mother, sister, there,
My hold on life's most broken;
Yes, dear ones, only brother lone,
Weep not - but live for Heaven;
I'm happy now - meet me at home'.
Thus died our soldier cousin.
Ah! noble cousin, on that morn,
When 'cross the Rappahannock,
So noiseless fled those warrior forms,
Hid by thy brave band's banner,
Did'st think so soon thy weary feet,
This river'd cross to Heaven.
While angels covered thy retreat,
Safe over - soldier cousin?
To think we were at home with thee,
But six short months agone,
And as thy sister pressed the keys,
We all joined in the song!
But now thou'rt gone! - o'er ruined joys,
Like call of the Muezzin,
Echo brings back our manly voice,
Our noble soldier cousin.
Now, as the lone ones in thy home,
Surround the hearth at even,
And calmly close the sacred tome,
And raise the song to Heaven,
They pause and sigh, and tear drops fall,
For no more thou art coming,
To kneel in prayer with the loved all,
At home - dear soldier cousin.
Yet though they miss thee through long hours,
Faith fills the vacant chair,
Points upward to the heavenly bowers,
And sweetly saith 'He's there!'
Ah, yes, 'he's there!' His Christian heart
Would heed his country's bidding;
He's done the patriot hero's part -
God loves our soldier cousin!
There's cheer in this, too, mourning ones,
We know our Christian cousin,
When ranked with freedom's noble sons,
Was bannered sure for Heaven.
Then weep no more; press back the tears,
Save for the fond hearts riven,
Who mourns their dead mid hope and fear,
But 'at home' is our soldier cousin.
Only 25
Today I was thinking of my cousin he was only 25 when he died.
His life was over before it even really got to start.
You see, in a moment of passion he didn't wear a condom.
And in that moment he contracted AIDS.
He lived for seven more years and then one day he just died.
He was only 25.
Note: This poem was not just a tribute to my cousin but a message to the young and old please don't let my cousin and millions of others death be for nothing. In that moment stop for a moment and put on a condom. Sex doesn’t kill people but AIDS do! !
The Conversation In The Drawing Room
—That spot of blood on the drawing room wall,
No larger than a thumbnail when I looked a moment ago,
Is spreading, Cousin Agatha, and growing brighter.
Nonsense. The oriole warbles in the sunlight.
The fountains gush luxuriantly above the pool.
The weather is ideal: on the paths a sheen
Of summer provides a constant delight.
I am thinking of affiliating with a new theosophist group.
—Once you could hide it with a nickel.
Now it strangely assumes the shape and size of a palm,
And puts out fingers, Cousin Agatha. Look, examine it!
Some aberration of the wallpaper, no doubt.
Did you have an omelette for lunch, and asparagus?
Mrs. Pisgah’s husband spoke from the beyond during the séance
Last night at Madame Irani’s. He seemed to have a cold.
The tamborine did not function with its usual zest.
—And a wrist, Cousin Agatha, and an arm!
Like those maps in a cinema that spread
Like wind blowing over a field of wheat, Cousin Agatha!
I have warned you, Hobart, about reading The Turn of the Screw
And that story of Balzac’s, whatever the name of it is,
Just before retiring. They always have a decidedly bad effect upon you.
I believe I will put another aspirin in the lily’s vase.
And now I must go to take my nap in the sunroom.
—Cousin Agatha, it moves like a fish, wet,
Wet like a fish, becomes a moving thing
That spreads and reaches from the wall!
I cannot listen to you any more just now, Hobart.
Kindly speak to Marie about the place cards for this evening.
Ah, there is the oriole again; how beautiful the view
From this window!—Yet why, one wonders, must Hobart begin
Gasping and screaming in such a deplorable fashion
There in the drawing room? It is scarcely considerate.
Youthful animal spirits, one supposes, combined
With a decided taste for the macabre. Where is the barbital?
Marie can never learn to leave it here, by the incense burner.
Ah, now he has stopped and only thrashes about, rather feebly, on the floor.
It is a beautiful afternoon; I will get up about three-fifteen.
Everything is blissfully quiet now; I am ready for sleep.
poem by Weldon Kees
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Hatred is pity’s mother.
I took pity on an old man,
My cousin’s father.
Is it the sympathy for the man
Or the rooted hatred for my cousin.
That spurted in me a pity?
30.07.2005
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Everybodys Got A Cousin In Miami
Everybodys got a cousin in miami
By: jimmy buffett, michael tschudin
1993
--spoken:
Hey jimmy, you know anybody in miami that can get me a passport
Real quick?
Oh yeah, yeah man. Ive got a cousin up there. he knows
Everthing about everything. lets see if Ive got his number
Here somewhere, yeah. no, he works out of a payphone...oh yeah.
Ive got it here. okay. todays international investor,
Whatever that is. yeah, everybodys got a cousin in miami. here
We go.
It was was ninety miles to freedom
But they took the risk
Though ocean was all motion
And the wind was brisk
The deadly gunboats never saw them
In the pale moonlight
They were off to cayo hueso
By the dawns early light
The gringo in the garden called the customs man
They answered all his questions
Were allowed to land
The ladies shared a hairbrush
And their husbands had a coke
And they were taken up to krome
To meet with there kin folk
Chorus:
Everybodys got a cousin in miami
(everybodys got a cousin in miami)
Everybody understands the impromptu
Dancing in the heat to the beat
That turns your clothing clammy (ooooohhhhh)
Everybody needs to have a dream come true
In a third world jungle
Not so far away
Lives a natural drummer
With a dream to play
Hes the brother of the lizard
And the flying fish
But hes enchanted by the pictures
>from the satellite dish
So his mama packs his bag
Knots his red neck tie
Send him north to her relations
With a kiss goodbye
Hes bewildered by the plane ride
And the immigration line
Until he sees his christian name
Upon a cardboard sign
Chorus:
Everybodys got a cousin in miami
(everybodys got a cousin in miami)
Everybody is an aborigine
Dancing in the heat to the beat
It turns your clothing clammy (ooooohhhhh)
Everybody want to win that lottery
--spoken:
And the winning numbers are...7, 6, 5, 3, 7, 9. uh, close, so
Close. history lesson, history lesson.
Its hard to believe this city started as a trading post
Home to the seminole pirate and pioneer
Between the river of grass and the old mosquito coast
Before the railroad claimed the southernmost frontier
I am umbilically connected to the temperate zone
It brought me life, it brought me love
I never have outgrown
Brought me one too many nights along that biscayne shore
And one too many mornings in the grove drugstore
And one way or the other were all refugees
Livin out this easy life below the banyan trees
Smoothing off the rougher edges of the culture clash
Weve got a style weve got a look
Weve got that old panache
Chorus:
Everybodys got a cousin in miami
(everybodys got a cousin in miami)
Everybody understands the impromptu
Dancing in the heat to the beat
It turns your clothing clammy (ooooohhhhh)
Everybody needs to have a dream come true
--spoken:
I do, I do. lets take it down boys. down south to those
Little latitudes. ya ya, ya ya. thank you robert.
Chorus:
Everybodys got a cousin in miami
(everybodys got a cousin in miami)
Everybody is an aborigine
Dancing in the heat to the beat
It turns your clothing clammy (ooooohhhhh)
Under the stars in the bars down by the sea
Oh me now
Everybodys got a cousin in miami
(everybodys got a cousin in miami)
Everybody has to have that impromptu
--spoken:
What are we doing now?
Dancing in the heat to the beat
It turns your clothing clammy (ooooohhhhh)
Everybody needs to have a dream come true
--spoken:
I do. I do. I had this dream the other day. I was down on the
Equator. I didnt know whether I was up or down. I couldnt
Tell the difference. it was hot and we were rockin. and the
Coral reefers gathered around me and they said: we want a raise
Or were going to quit. and thats when I woke up. so play
Boys, play.
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Country Scrumping
Your country cousin took you
Across a field to a vast orchard
Where low hung branches
Made the green apples within
Reach of your young boy’s hands.
Don’t eat too many of them
Or you’ll get gut ache, she said.
Your eyes had never seen so
Many apples, row after row
In long lines down the field and
Fields beyond. You picked an apple
And bit into it. They make cider
From these, she said, picking off
An apple too and biting with relish.
Your younger sister looked nervously
On wondering if she too should pick.
Go on, your cousin said, pick and eat.
Your sister reached up and pulled
And a few apples fell to the ground
With soft sounds of thump on the
Short grass. She picked up one and
Brushed it off on her dress. Have to
Run if the farmer comes, your cousin
Said, and don’t tell of this or we’ll be
For it. For what? Your sister asked.
Your cousin looked around and replied,
A good telling off or a good tanned ass.
You stood all three of you eating, beneath
The apple trees, in the short green grass.
poem by Terry Collett
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We Trace Our Roots
there are ways of tracing our roots
where we come from
why we are here
how our forefathers braved
the seas and survived the big waves
of uncertainties
the cold, dark nights of their fears
how they all believed in dreams
how they trusted the direction given by the stars
how they solidified their hearts
with faith and hope
and love
as i listen to all of you talk about the stories
of our ancestors
my mind begins to to grow and travel
like roots
deep down the earth
tracing some humus
where i must live again
perhaps ever braver than the pioneers
they are our ancestors
and i think, they still believe that since we come from them
we must all be like them,
my dear cousin, now we have become the roots ourselves
and another child shall come
in the future
and listen some more, wanting to become branches and leaves and flowers
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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No One Steps Twice On The River Of Life...
it is not the rage of this river.
when i was a child, as mother says,
i keep my finger inside my mouth
sucked by my throat, to keep hunger away
beside the bank of this river
i am the spectator
and the river believes in the magic
of my innocence
it flows always in a distant
affection,
it is not the rage of the river,
it is i, the grown up man who goes swimming
in the river and feel
the joys of its cool waters
always moving on towards
a destination
it is the swimming with a friend
and then
with a lover and then with a wife
and then my silence,
what we do not have we force to forget
it is the bathing in the river
the rinsing and the cleansing of the waters
it is not the rage of this river
and then we become too weak to be in this river
the river moves on and on
towards the deepest sea looking for the
opening
i wait by the bank of this river
many things have been missed
the more important ones
the one that gives the posterity of
my humanity
it is denied of me because of this river
that gives me nothing
all the while i was the leaf that fell off from
the tree
on the side of this river
and i floated because i have nothing to do
because i can do nothing about
the flow of the river
i become the dead leaf that the air
rides upon
tossed and bumped on boulders
till i sink
deep down the river
that i shall pass only once.
time.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Cousin In Milwaukee
Once I visited my cousin, in milwaukee, usa
She got boyfriends by the dozen, when she sang in a lowdown way
She was a positive sensation
The songs that she sang would never miss
My cousin was my inspiration
Thats how I got like this
I got a cousin in milwaukee
Shes got a voice so squawky
And though shes tall and kind of gawky
Oh, how she gets the men
Her singing isnt operatic
Its got a lot of static
What makes your heart get acrobatic
Nine times out of ten
When she sings hot, you cant be solemn
It sends the shivers up and down your spinal column
When she sings blue, the men shout, what stuff!
That baby is hot stuff
So if you like the way I sing songs,
If you think that Im a wow
You can thank my squawky cousin from milwaukee
Because she taught me how
(instrumental bridge)
When she sings hot, you cant be solemn
It sends the shivers up and down your spinal column
When she sings blue, the men shout, what stuff!
That baby is hot stuff
So if you like the way I sing songs,
If you think that Im a wow
You can thank my squawky cousin from milwaukee
Because she taught me how
song performed by by Ella Fitzgerald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This Soldier
This soldier is my hero.
He is the one i get my strength from
He is strong; like two body builders put together.
He is brave and fearless.
This soldier is my cousin.
The memories we have together mean more to me
Than anything in the world.
He is the one who I pray for at night.
This soldier is fighting right now.
With the gun in his hand, he fires.
Bang, bang, bang,
Shots fire from his gun as his body tenses up.
Is he as scared as I am?
This soldier is my soldier,
Without him, I wouldn't be the same.
My soldier is the one I miss,
The one I haven't seen since 3rd grade.
This soldier is proud.
He fights for his own life, just to keep us safe.
He is the one that I want to know,
That he is my hero for life.
-Dedicated to my cousin Chris Yingling-
poem by Kailee Falvo
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