En.Citatepedia^®.ro

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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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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Don't Listen

Don’t listen to him,
Gran said,
indicating
with a nod

of her head,
to Granddad
in the other room,
sitting by the fire

with his loose clothes
holding in bones.
You stood by the door,
peeping through

the thin crack
between door
and frame,
your young eyes

like a hawk’s,
catching the view:
Granddad lighting up
a cigarette,

to set him off
on the cough
and spit and phlegm,
and Gran’s hazel eyes

lighting up with anger
and her tongue
like a viper’s
ready to condemn.

poem by Terry Collett
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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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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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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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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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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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Uncle Fred and The Sand Dance

Your Uncle Fred
on Christmas Eve
at Gran's house

when you were a kid
did the sand dance
wearing an old fashion

man's striped nightgown
and a red fez
(he got that in Egypt

during WW2
Gran said)
and brown

open toed sandals
and Uncle Ed
turned the handle

of the windup gramophone
where an old
78rpm record

was playing
and there were
glasses of sherry

being consumed
and cigarettes being smoked
and you sat watching

clapping your hands
and Gran would get up
afterwards

and do her Can-Can
like she used to
as she young woman

on the stage
and Granddad sat there
quiet saying nothing

looking at
the people gathered
sipping his sherry

watching his wife
lifting her legs
her white fuzzy hair

going to and fro
as she moved
and you wanted

to have some sherry
but your mother said
no you have lemonade

little boys
don't have sherry
so you sat

with your lemonade
watching Uncle Fred
and his dance

and the music coming
from the old gramophone
and the smell of sherry

and beer and cigarette smoke
and Uncle telling the adults
one of his old army jokes.

poem by Terry Collett
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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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White Clydesdale horse

That big white horse he stands so high
And coat so white it hurts my eyes
A Clydesdale horse is the breed
Stand so proud does this stead

For weeks I just wondered why
He shows himself in my minds eye
I tell my friends what I see
It’s my granddad looking after me

A carter by trade was his game
And Clydesdale horses pulled the frame
For miles and miles through Scottish Land
My granddad went cap in hand

It nice to know he stands by me
As proud as the horse I can see
To give me strength both night and day
And guide me along the way

Chellaston
01 11 2010

poem by Jim O'Donnell
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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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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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I Want Candy

I know a girl who's tough but sweet
She's so fine she can't be beat
Shes got everything that I desire
she sets the summer sun on fire
Chorus:
I want Candy
I want Candy
I want Candy
I want Candy
Goin' to see her when the sun goes down
There ain't no finer girl in town
You're my girl, You're what the doctor ordered
A treat so sweet ya make my mouth water
I want Candy
I want Candy
I want Candy
I want Candy
I want Candy
I want Candy
Candy on the beach, there's nothing better
But I like candy when it's wrapped in leather
Someday soon I'll make her mine
And then I'll have Candy all the time
I said..I said...
I want Candy
I want Candy
I want Candy
I want Candy

song performed by by Good Charlotte
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ode' To Granddad

Granddad, on his screened porch sat one day;
Up in his lap I crawled, to rest from my play;
Very sparse stubble here and there for a beard;
He had acquired sandspurs in cheeks I feared;
Grandmother's tweezers would work I thought;
Quickly I leaped down and after them I sought;
I was back there in a flash to alleviate his pain;
I tugged here and there on his face with no gain;
I lost interest in the task; he just hugged me tight;
He laughed and let me know that he was all right;
He put in plain words for me what whiskers were;
He asked me if I understood; then I replied yes sir;
Older males have to shave often for a smooth face;
Yet men with a manicured beard aren't out of place;
I could find not one on my cheeks with my hand;
He chuckled wait until you become a young man;
A young man; just about everyone calls me one;
Maybe I'll just stay young; growing up is no fun;
I want to always feel secure in my Granddad's lap;
Possessing no worry in the world; I then took a nap.

poem by Joseph Blitch
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Continuation

The Continuation

It is night they have all gone to bed, since I’m old and sleep little
my job is to keep the ember alive in the stove, add a piece of wood
now and then. My granddad used to do that keeping the flames
alive, so when the young got up the rooms wouldn’t be too cold.
I sit in darkness but see through curtains snow falling adding to
millions of other snowflakes, I know the children will be exited,
the adults less so. For me it doesn’t matter, but I haven’t forgotten
the pleasure of a snowy landscape. It is odd, me godless man, feel
an inner peace, everything that has happened fits together I have
meet my ghosts; nothing scares me anymore except rumours of
a new war. As a child I knew war and all its brutality, I was hoping
my grandchildren would be spared. I’m nearly falling asleep but my
granddad awakes me, whispers about my obligations, I add a piece
of wood to the fire and dream of yesteryear.

poem by Oskar Hansen
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Candy Love

Candy candy the taste of love
Its half past ten and you start to shove
With spicy boys
And girls its on you
The groove is on
So dont be cruel
Candy candy makes you hot
Our capacity burns the quality shocks
The flavour is good
Ill give you some more
It was once a phantasy
Candy love
Its a candy like this
Candy love
Candy candy its eleven oclock
The time is right to fall in love
With spicy boys
Girls its on you
Music can be like an insanity
Its my life a stronger philosophy
It doesnt matter what style we are doing
Crossover, nu rock, hip hop oder scheisskram

song performed by by Guano Apes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Handbags & Gladrags

(michael dabo)
Ever seen a blind man cross the road
Trying to make the other side
Ever seen a young girl growing old
Trying to make herself a bride
So what becomes of you my love
When they have finally stripped you of
The handbags and the gladrags
That your grandad had to sweat so you could buy
Baby
Once I was a young man
And all I thought I had to do was smile
You are still a young girl
And you bought everything in style
Listen
But once you think youre in youre out
cause you dont mean a single thing without
The handbags and the gladrags
That your grandad had to sweat so you could buy
Sing a song of six-pence for your sake
And take a bottle full of rye
Four and twenty blackbirds in a cake
And bake them all in a pie
They told me you missed school today
So what I suggest you just throw them all away
The handbags and the gladrags
That your poor old granddad had to sweat to buy
They told me you missed school today
So I suggest you just throw them all away
The handbags and the gladrags
That your poor old granddad had to sweat to buy ya

song performed by by Rod Stewart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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More Letters

More letters found stuffed
Beneath his brown best shoes,
Which had yellowed with age.
Love letters with small crosses
For kisses at the bottom
Of the page. Words neatly penned,
Love spoken of, gifts thanked for,
Places seen, shared and remembered.
He was a dark horse, Mother said,
Never knew he had these, so many here,
Stuffed, forgotten or out of sight and mind.
Granddad had had some woman
On the go at some time and place
Years ago, before Gran, before
The whole circus of living had ended.
A photograph tucked between pages,
Some woman in old-fashioned hat
And dress and wide-open eyes.
Secrets hidden and kept, words
Upon words on pages, scribbled
By a hand now sure to be dead.
Best burn them, Mother sighed,
Nothing to be gained, best nothing’s said.

poem by Terry Collett
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Candy-o

Candy-o, I need you
Sunday dress, ruby ring
Candy-o, I need you so
Could you help me in?
Purple hum, assorted cards
Razor lights youll bring
And all to prove youre on the move
And vanishing
Candy-o, I need you so
Candy-o, I need you so
Edge of night, distract yourself
Obstacles dont work
Homogenize
Decentralize
Its just a quirk
Different ways to see you through
All the same in the end
Peculiar star, a-thats who you are
Do you have to win?
Candy-o, I need you so
Candy-o, I need you so
Candy-o, I need you so
(candy-o)
Candy-o, I need you so
(candy-o)

song performed by by Cars
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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