a grandmother sees
her husband in her grand child
love renews itself
quote by by Samanyan Lakshminarayanan
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Grandmother Told Me So
The declaration has been spoken,
For Grandmother told me so.
The darkeys have got their fetlocks broken,
For Grandmother told me so.
Oh, won't they have a lot of iron on hand!
And when the news travels,
Oh, won't it be grand!
'Twill sweep like a sugarcane over the land,
For Grandmother told me so.
American Eagle! hysterical bird!
Oh, flap your wing and crow!
The slaves are embellished--yes, that's the word,
For Grandmother told me so!
There's curious times in that ur section,
For Grandmother told me so.
They think they will have a resurrection,
For Grandmother told me so.
The penholders raving like persons insane --
The darkeys in exodus, raising cane,
And singing like martingales after a rain,
For Grandmother told me so.
But President Abe forgot Kentucky,
For Grandmother told me so.
And Geneses, too -- and that's unlucky,
For Grandmother told me so.
Malicious champagne will be open'd in vain,
Until we shall break the last ox-yoke and chain --
Till through the Benighted States freedom shall reign,
For Grandmother told me so.
poem by Henry Clay Work
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Father Freak (1) (Took Son's Wife And Killed Son's Daughter)
A 4-year-old daughter was murdered,
by a 45-year-old grandfather,
who had a love affair with his daughter-in-law,
who is a 23-year-old woman whose husband's heart got gnawed.
The husband found out the affair and had their marriage got undone.
The grandfather did'nt have any consideration for his son.
He admitted beating the grand-daughter to death,
stuffing his body into a suitcase and throwing into the river bed.
Murder occured in May, about 3 months ago.
3 weeks ago, her great grandmother contacted Authority for her no-
show.
Then the disappearance brought to police attention.
How could they commit a crime full of sins?
They have children of their own,
but about parental love they have never known.
The father not only robbed his son of his wife,
but also put an end to his grand-daughter's life.
There are actually some bad fathers,
who could be compared to freak Monster.
What We Teach Our Children By: Cay Thorne
If a child sees abuse in any form -
They will become abusers in any form;
If a child sees love;
They become lovers and romantics at heart
If a child sees loyalty and trust;
They know how to be loyal and trustworthy.
If a child sees hatred to all things and humans
They will live without love and kindness.
If a child knows encouragement and praise;
They will show encouragement and praise to all.
If a child sees peace and happiness;
They will show love and happiness to all mankind.
If a child sees violence;
They learn to be violent to anything and everything.
If a child sees bullying at home as a victim;
They become a criminal to satisfy the hunger.
If a child sees charity;
They learn to show charity to others.
If a child sees you help others in need;
They become helpers to all in need.
If a child learns how to be raciest in all forms of the word;
They WILL learn the true meaning of racism and hatred –
Which shows non of the virtues;
That we need to live with to stop;
All the kinds of EVIL in this world today.
If a child sees all the virtues that are out there in the world today;
They will show these virtues to all mankind and no matter who the person is.
poem by Cay Thorne
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Sestina
September rain falls on the house.
In the failing light, the old grandmother
sits in the kitchen with the child
beside the Little Marvel Stove,
reading the jokes from the almanac,
laughing and talking to hide her tears.
She thinks that her equinoctial tears
and the rain that beats on the roof of the house
were both foretold by the almanac,
but only known to a grandmother.
The iron kettle sings on the stove.
She cuts some bread and says to the child,
It's time for tea now; but the child
is watching the teakettle's small hard tears
dance like mad on the hot black stove,
the way the rain must dance on the house.
Tidying up, the old grandmother
hangs up the clever almanac
on its string. Birdlike, the almanac
hovers half open above the child,
hovers above the old grandmother
and her teacup full of dark brown tears.
She shivers and says she thinks the house
feels chilly, and puts more wood in the stove.
It was to be, says the Marvel Stove.
I know what I know, says the almanac.
With crayons the child draws a rigid house
and a winding pathway. Then the child
puts in a man with buttons like tears
and shows it proudly to the grandmother.
But secretly, while the grandmother
busies herself about the stove,
the little moons fall down like tears
from between the pages of the almanac
into the flower bed the child
has carefully placed in the front of the house.
Time to plant tears, says the almanac.
The grandmother sings to the marvelous stove
and the child draws another inscrutable house.
poem by Elizabeth Bishop
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A Husband...
A husband should be
Loyal and honest
A husband should be
Strong and protective
A husband should be
Loving and romantic
A husband should be
Patient and understanding
A husband should know
When enough is enough
A husband should know
When to fight and when to cry
A husband should know
all your goals and dreams
A husband should know
your strengths and well as your weaknesses
A husband needs to be a true man
A husband needs to love you unconditionally
A husband needs to know your heart is forever his
poem by Sarah Holmes
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Sitting By Your Self
THIS child needs your love,
this child sees himself in
mamas arms,
this child sings,
this child laughs,
this child cries, when your
sitting by your self.
THIS child sees your tears,
this child waits untill its
past.
this child sings,
this child laughs,
this child cries, when your
sitting by your self.
THIS child takes your hand,
this child leads you to a
chair.
this child sings,
this child laughs,
this child takes away your pain.
poem by David Gerardino
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Love
Although i speak in tongues
Of men and angels
I'm just sounding brass
And tinkling cymbals without love--
Love suffers long--
Love is kind!--
Enduring all things--
Love has no evil in mind
If i had the gift of prophecy--
And all the knowledge--
And the faith to move the mountains
Even if i understood all of the mysteries--
If i didn't have love
I'd be nothing
Love--never looks for love--
Love's not puffed up--
Or envious--
Or touchy--
Because it rejoices in the truth
Not in iniquity
Love sees like a child sees
As a child i spoke as a child--
I thought and i understood as a child--
But when i became a woman--
I put away childish things
And began to see through a glass darkly
Where, as a child, i saw it face to face
Now, i only know it in part
Fractions in me
Of faith and hope and love
And of these great three
Love's the greatest beauty
Love
Love
Love
song performed by by Joni Mitchell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Great 'Grandma
The fussy Grandma
was on her last moments.
Sensing that she was knocking
at the doors of 'Death',
her grand children were
brought one by one before her.
Memories stinging
of momentous years
began to come into her mind.
How with tricks she drove out
her aged mother-in-law
just a week after her
coming into that house
as the first daughter-in-law!
The eldest grandchild
trickled down sugary water
into her mouth.
Her henpecked husband
reared his head in her mind.
Her eyes got wet
when her mind recalled
how her husband hanged himself
believing her feigning torrid looks
at some neighbours, as true.
The next grand child
dripped water into her mouth.
When she remembered
how her first daughter-in-law
sought herself divorce
being afraid of her torture,
her lips moved a bit
and the third grand child
rained sweetened water.
When she thought of her
second techie-daughter-in-law
who escaped her ill-treatment
by settling down abroad
and refused to take her there,
she tried to gnash her teeth.
Her upper jaw lowered a little.
The foreign-settled in-law
came by flight and entered
at her mother-in-law's last minute.
She poured pure honey down
into the gaped mouth of her in-law.
The great grandma lost her breath
and was lost for ever.
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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Expectant Mother
she is gentle-yet strong-meek yet bold.
she is a woman to behold.
she is a expectant mother as we can see.
waiting for her child to be set free.
sleepng in the fetal position-does'nt help her disposition.
feeling the kicks at home and at work
and thinking that all men are jerks.
she wonders about the nine months that she must go through.
if she will have the strength to survive
and if her husband will be by her side.
when she is in her chair at night
she sees her stomach as a glorious sight.
there is a child in her waiting to be fed
and does'nt want her to go to bed.
the baby wants to feel their mothers touch
and the soothing words that she speaks.
this is what they seek.
when it comes for the child to see the world.
for the first time and feels the cool air
they look for their mothers warmth to share.
the joy and pride that the expectant mother feels
is something that can't be concealed.
she will cry tears of joy and pain
and hopes her husband will do the same.
poem by Louis Rams
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She Owns Her Child
To its mother, a child is not cheap
Because it was born of a lowly husband,
Or from a secret or illicit affair.
She sees it as wholly hers, not as his.
(22.06.2011)
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Poem for my Grandmother
By the time
I knew grandmother
She was no more
It took sisteen-years
To know
Of her pains
On that sick bed,
My sisteen-year-old
Knowingness was shocked
To hear mum narrate her past
Grandmother as indeed a great
Woman n her life time.
Each time I go to her grave
I break down and cried for her,
I wish grandmother saw
The best of me
Before she was taken to the beyond
I know she would be proud of me
Let this poem of mine
Be for her,
My great grandmother.
poem by Efe Benjamin
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Truth Smiles In Child!
What an eternal pair they are,
God and Nature, positive and negative,
God revolving freely around nature,
Smiles at Nature,
And Nature smiles at God,
Smile makes one beautiful and they fell in love of beauty in one another!
Just like parents smile AT the kid,
Nature says to God,
'See, This child is your Creation,
you are its father,
take care of it '
God smiles and says, 'Its your child,
take care of this,
And this is your child '
Child smiles innocently at both,
Nature Smile at child and says,
I am your mother, He is your father,
When child smiles at father,
father's heart too jumps and smiles,
Father sees its beloved Nature,
And Nature sees her Beloved God in the smile of the child!
In the child both smile together, seeing at one another!
Matter smiles at energy and energy smiles at matter,
and in the child both smile together,
But in their love and smile,
Truth smiles,
eyes of both God, Nature shine at the smile of the Child,
Never both able to see the silent smile of Truth,
It says within child, it's soliliquoy goes unheard,
' I am that,
Smiled in you,
I am the creator of both,
But God and Nature Never able to see me,
Only seeing me as their child,
I smile At them,
that I kept my identity,
Hidden safe in You '
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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Intricacy of relation
You love your child;
It is equal that
You have loved its mother.
You love your grandchild;
It is equal that
You have loved your child.
You ignore your daughter.
Her husband will take care.
If you spurn the daughter-in-law
You lean away from your son.
If you side the daughter-in-law
You slide from your wife.
If you speak well of your boss
Your husband goes uneasy.
How of intricacy
Human relationship is!
How it pushes us
To be hypocrite!
06.11.99
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Snow covered evening,
and thanks to grandmother’s quilt,
husband beside me.
haiku by Val Morehouse
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Dem Bones!
My Husband's Grandmother,
who had reached the grand old age of 98 years,
died one 23rd of December,
and as her funeral couldn't be organised
until the 6th of January, the following year,
her Son asked the Funeral Director,
to explain what was happening to his Mother
over the Christmas period.
The Funeral Director in his severe black suit,
with a face even more severe,
placed a hand on the Son's shoulder, and said,
'Don't you worry, Mr Taylor,
we have a Skeleton Staff in over Christmas'.
This is a true story, but we found it to be so hilarious.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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A Grieving Widow
From the cemetery in Cameron Street she's a short walk away
And often at her husband's grave for his soul she does pray
An old miner of the black coal two years ago he died
Soon she will go to join him to lay forever by his side.
Her husband in his mid seventies when the Reaper for him came
And without her one true soul mate life for her not the same
They migrated to Wonthaggi in their early twenties in nineteen fifty three
He was her childhood sweetheart back home in Italy.
The saddest time of her life has been the last two years
She still grieves for her husband for him she still shed tears
Even at the mention of his name the tears come to her eyes
The stonger the bond of love is the sadder the goodbyes
Her son and daughter in Wonthaggi to her they live quite near
And stories of her old Homeland her grand kids love to hear
She tells them of the happy times their grand dad and her did know
When they were young in Italy so many years ago.
At her husband's grave in Cameron Street she says a silent prayer
A woman in her mid seventies with a silvery head of hair
And tears are welling in her eyes at her memories of the past
But no one lives forever and nothing ever last.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Suppose She Cannot Live By Trust
She married him for love alone he seemed a charming man
And she told her friends the World's greatest husband is my Stan
But love is blind or so they say which in her case is so true
And there is more far more to love than saying I love you.
He told her he loved her many times but words not hard to say
And after eight months of marriage he left her for some one new life often is that way
His little son who turned three in early February
He has not met and it would seem he has no desire to see.
With a married man she is having a clandestine affair
The husband of a friend of her's though with her one secret she will not share
That her husband with her is having his quiet bit on the side
By such secrets when they are leaked friendships have been destroyed.
What her ex husband has done to her to her friend she now do
Suppose she cannot live by trust if trust she never knew
Suppose she could find a single man to fulfil her sexual need
But she does not need one without ties for her that to love might lead.
And that to hurt again could lead by love she has been hurt before
And the burned child she dreads the fire she won't go back for more
She plays tennis with her lover's wife but to her she never say
Your husband he made love to me in my bedroom yesterday.
poem by Francis Duggan
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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
Love is a child
Love was a child, so meek and so mild
Love was a child who smiled.
Love was a child who played with a toy train
Love was a child who jumped in puddles in the rain.
Love was a child who laughed and played.
Love was a child God lovingly made.
Love is a child that God now holds
Love is a child who will never grow old.
Love is a child we sorely miss
Love is a child who Angels now kiss.
Love is a child.
poem by Daniel Hooks
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Grandmother
Grandmother, oh Grandmother
Looking from above.
I need your wisdom and your balance.
Most of all I need your love.
I hear you and I see you,
When I open my mind's eye.
I feel you wrapped around me,
In the space where I am "I".
Your kindness and your knowledge,
I need within me now,
For I'm in a constant turmoil.
Where to turn; which way and how?
Please help me to rebalance.
On my life's path forward go,
For when my mind is muddled
The answers you always know.
I know you never leave me,
In my aura sitting calm.
I thank you wisest Grandmother,
For keeping me safe from harm.
poem by Rosi Caswell
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