Just Trouble
Running around the yard like little animals
Playing tag, hide-and-seek and football.
Great memories I shared with my cousins.
Getting in trouble by grandma,
As Aunt Mandi bailed us out.
She would always say we weren’t hurting anything.
Now it’s less play and just trouble.
Grandma yells at mistakes we make
And Aunt Mandi just watches the troubles we have.
It’s a lot harder now with no fun.
poem by Leigha Taylor
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Silver
Nirvana- Silver
Mom and dad went to a show
They dropped me off at Grandpa Joe's
I kicked and screamed, said please don't go
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Had to eat my dinner there
Mashed potatoes and stuff like that
I couldn't chew my meats too good
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
She said, well, don't you start your crying
Go outside and ride your bike
That's what I did, I killed my toe
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
After dinner, I had ice cream
I fell asleep and watched TV
I woke up in my mother's arms
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
I wanna be alone
song performed by by Nirvana
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One last time.
One last time daddy hold me close to your heart.
One last time daddy let's play Scrabble so I can win.
Daddy one more time to walk together, talking about the next trip.
Daddy for the very, last time tell me that you love me very much so.
Mommy one last time, doing my make-up for me.
One last time mommy, cook tacos and cake for a birthday.
Just one last time mommy, the laugh that we will never forget.
Mommy just one more time to go to the mall together with your best friend.
One last time sister, playing with dolls in your room that your share with me.
Sister one more time to ride daddy's motorcycle with him.
Sister just one more time to cook with mommy and daddy.
One last time sister to share a room, wear each other clothes.
Brother one more time for the fun, old memories when we never fought.
Brother one more time fun of it chasing the dogs around the yard.
One last time brother to go running through the woods for you.
Brother one more time to play hide and go seek for grandpa.
One last time grandma cooking for the family reunion and grandma for the very last time measure a skirt.
One last time grandma to sew and sew the skirt for me to wear on Sunday.
Grandma one more time to get the laughs all the time.
One more time grandpa to read the Christmas story from the Bible.
Grandpa one more time for memories sake hide and go seek up in the trees.
One last time hold me tight please do not let me go.
Please one more time let me go to sleep on your lap.
poem by Debra George
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Widows
My mother's playing cards with my aunt,
Spite and Malice, the family pastime, the game
my grandmother taught all her daughters.
Midsummer: too hot to go out.
Today, my aunt's ahead; she's getting the good cards.
My mother's dragging, having trouble with her concentration.
She can't get used to her own bed this summer.
She had no trouble last summer,
getting used to the floor. She learned to sleep there
to be near my father.
He was dying; he got a special bed.
My aunt doesn't give an inch, doesn't make
allowance for my mother's weariness.
It's how they were raised: you show respect by fighting.
To let up insults the opponent.
Each player has one pile to the left, five cards in the hand.
It's good to stay inside on days like this,
to stay where it's cool.
And this is better than other games, better than solitaire.
My grandmother thought ahead; she prepared her daughters.
They have cards; they have each other.
They don't need any more companionship.
All afternoon the game goes on but the sun doesn't move.
It just keeps beating down, turning the grass yellow.
That's how it must seem to my mother.
And then, suddenly, something is over.
My aunt's been at it longer; maybe that's why she's playing better.
Her cards evaporate: that's what you want, that's the object: in the end,
the one who has nothing wins.
poem by Louise Gluck
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No More Trouble (feat. Erykah Badu)
[Bob Marley]
(We don't need) No, we don't need (no more trouble) no more trouble!
(We don't need no more trouble)
Wo! Oh-oh-oh!
(We don't need) We don't need no (no more) trouble!
We don't need no trouble!
(We don't need no more trouble)
Make love and not war! 'Cause we don't need no trouble.
What we need is love (love)
To guide and protect us on. (on)
If you hope good down from above, (love)
Help the weak if you are strong now. (love)
We don't need no trouble;
What we need is love. Oh, no!
We don't need - we don't need - no more trouble!
Lord knows, we don't need no trouble!
(We don't need) We don't need trouble (no more trouble) -
no more trouble - no more trouble!
Seek happiness! (...) Oh, ...!
Come on, you all and speak of love. (...) Oh, yeah!
We don't need no trouble;
What we need is love, now. (What we need is love!)
(We don't need) Oh, we don't need no more trouble!
We don't need, no - we don't need no trouble!
We don't (need) - no, brothers and sisters ... (no more trouble!)
We don't need no trouble; we don't need no trouble!
We don't need no trouble!
What we need is love!
We don't need - we don't need no more - we don't need -
no more trouble - we don't need no more trouble!
Trouble we don't need (we don't need),
(We don't need) Lord, knows! -
we don't need no more war (no more trouble).
No more trouble - we don't need no more - more trouble! /fadeout/
song performed by by Bob Marley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Grandmas Theme
Go grandma!!! go, go, go grandma!!!!!!!you know what they say. go, go, go
Grandma youll make it someday. shalalalala grandma youre doing fine. you and
Your dreams are ahead of your time!!! go go go go!!!!!
Go, go grandma ranger......
In space!!!!!!
What about grandpa? ? ? ? ?
Chorus:
Go granny, go granny, go go go granny!!!
Yeeeehaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!
Yeah thats right
I love u grandmama
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dear Grandma
Dear Grandma, I remember
When you were there for me
Dear Grandma, I remember
Your smile was a joy to see
Dear Grandma, I remember
The wonderful dinners I had
I remember how you cared
You dried my tears when I was sad
Dear Grandma, I remember
All the wonderful things you gave
You would let us play around
You would always be there to wave
Dear Grandma, I remember
All your loving care
Helping when I was sick
You were always there
Dear Grandma, I remember
That you are there for me yet
Always a comfort to me
Dear Grandma, I wont forget
Those Hands Joining
Great grandma’s hands
Grandma’s, mama’s,
sister's hands
Aunt’s and niece’s
Hands, they join today
An epic telling the stories
About touch, about prayer,
About reaching, about the years
Of caressing and holding on
To love, persevering and
Resting the hands on the
Hands of the other hands
Those moments of silence
When the hands speak more
When the mouths accept
The loss of the power of words
When even the hearts give in
Because the hands are warmer
And so comforting.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Great Grandma
Great Grandma married Great Grandpa
poor Irish girl and poor Indian man
Great Grandma
used to get beat by Great Grandpa's mom
Great Great Grandma
because Great Great Grandma only spoke an Indian
language and not English.
She got hit by a train.
Lots of us Indians got hit by trains in one way
or another, but this was
literal and not metaphor.
poem by Smack Thompson
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Squashing Others Doesn't End Their Troubles
Where there's always trouble,
That trouble never leaves.
And many live to double up their troubles.
Where there's always trouble,
That trouble never leaves.
And many live to double up their troubles.
Gangbangers like to take their hanging into the streets,
To heat them up with stirring up their troubles.
Beat boppers from the 70's tote up on their weed.
To drift away and up above their troubles.
As hip hoppers and the rappers with their slang done,
Think they have the key to end their troubles.
Rap packers 'spit' their chatter,
As if nothing matters.
With a squashing done to others double troubles.
And squashing others doesn't end their troubles.
No!
Where there's always trouble,
That trouble never leaves.
And many live to double up their troubles.
Where there's always trouble,
That trouble never leaves.
And many live to double up their troubles.
Many live to double up their troubles.
And squashing others doesn't end their troubles.
No.
A squashing others always starts the trouble.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Of Fleeting Memories
Amidst a mist of fleeting memories
I miss the tweeting melodies
Miss greeting the feathered farm orchestras
of happy whistlers in the trees
Little footsteps slide across the kitchen floor
Mom walks in with groceries from the store
Grandpa is driving the tractor in the distance
And Grandma holds open the screen door
Sunny Vision
of a whispy field of wheat
My brother and I are shaded from the heat
playing hide and seek
'Come grab a bite to eat! ' yells grandma
we giggle as we jump out of the tree
and run up in bare feet
It's kinda weird and funny now
looking back on barnyard days and cows
how anyone could just grow up so fast-
how thousands of days have come and passed
without really noticing it...
- I just don't know how
How all these 'Nows'
become the 'Past'...
and how nothing lasts.
(Oct.27th,2010 - 1: 52 a.m.)
poem by Ray Quesada
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0427 We'd never have guessed..
There’s so much
we never know,
would never have guessed,
never asked,
and now regret that
we never asked,
about what it was like for ‘them’
before we were born…
I can’t remember exactly
how old I was – eight? - when I knew
that Mum couldn’t possibly
have been my mother.
She was so innocent, so simple, yet
so quietly organised,
so sensible, so unlike me
- who was unlike Dad anyway, didn’t he remind me -
that she could never
have had.. sex? .. with Dad..
It must have been my ‘naughty’ aunt, who had me,
‘father unknown’ but conveniently
adopted by my ‘parents’ -
the one who had an eye for the boys
and boy did the boys have eyes for her,
who asked every evening if she could
go out and play with them, while
Dorothy did her homework,
learned double-entry book-keeping by post,
did part-time secretarial work,
became the first female bank-clerk in the town, and still
made the cakes and scones to sell
in the terrace front-window shop
before she went to morning school or work,
while Grandad wheezed in the armchair, sick from the cotton mill..
It was only when my mother, in her sixties, took me
on her annual holiday once to see my
aunt (?) Mary, and the two played one-up
all the time, that I realised the truth of this
familiar family play of life:
Two daughters, fighting for their father’s love,
picking each their role: the one,
doing all the right things to win his love;
the other, forever testing his love
with naughtiness; (she never married, just
played the Magdalene) :
he died, and yet
they carried on their fight; Grandma was
some bystander, I guess. And of course,
Grandad loved his ‘scamp’ so much –
she, the same twinkle in his eye
that he had when he courted Grandma..
Who won, in the end? Neither? Both?
After I saw that, it didn’t seem to matter so much
which of them was really my mother. It would
have been fair if they could, somehow,
have shared me; and maybe, I them.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Trouble
Trouble in the city, trouble in the farm,
You got your rabbits foot, you got your good-luck charm.
But they cant help you none when theres trouble.
Trouble,
Trouble, trouble, trouble,
Nothin but trouble.
Trouble in the water, trouble in the air,
Go all the way to the other side of the world, youll find trouble there.
Revolution even aint no solution for trouble.
Trouble,
Trouble, trouble, trouble,
Nothin but trouble.
Drought and starvation, packaging of the soul,
Persecution, execution, governments out of control.
You can see the writing on the wall inviting trouble.
Trouble,
Trouble, trouble, trouble,
Nothin but trouble.
Put your ear to the train tracks, put your ear to the ground,
You ever feel like youre never alone even when theres nobody else around?
Since the beginning of the universe mans been cursed by trouble.
Trouble,
Trouble, trouble, trouble,
Nothin but trouble.
Nightclubs of the broken-hearted, stadiums of the damned,
Legislature, perverted nature, doors that are rudely slammed.
Look into infinity, all you see is trouble.
Trouble,
Trouble, trouble, trouble,
Nothin but trouble.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bazonka
Say Bazonka every day
That's what my grandma used to say
It keeps at bay the Asian Flu'
And both your elbows free from glue.
So say Bazonka every day
(That's what my grandma used to say)
Don't say it if your socks are dry!
Or when the sun is in your eye!
Never say it in the dark
(The word you see emits a spark)
Only say it in the day
(That's what my grandma used to say)
Young Tiny Tim took her advice
He said it once, he said it twice
he said it till the day he died
And even after that he tried
To say Bazonka! every day
Just like my grandma used to say.
Now folks around declare it's true
That every night at half past two
If you'll stand upon your head
And shout Bazonka! from your bed
You'll hear the word as clear as day
Just like my grandma used to say!
poem by Spike Milligan
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Trouble
I was raised a gamblers son
And before I could walk,
I had to learn how to run.
And I never, never ever
Played a loaded dice.
But, I rolled a lot of women
With a heart as cold as ice.
On the run again
Looking for a place to hide,
Everywhere I look there is trouble,
Always coming my way,
Trouble always coming my way.
Baby Im lonely, Im out of control,
I need someone to understand
The badness in my soul.
Though I never, I never
Stole another mans wife
But, I fooled around plenty enough
And I got what I paid for.
On the run again
Looking for a place to hide,
Everywhere I look there is trouble,
Trouble always coming my way.
Trouble.
(solo)
On the run again
Looking for a place to hide,
Everywhere I look there is trouble,
Trouble always coming my way.
Trouble always coming my way, trouble always coming...
song performed by by Whitesnake
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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At My Aunt's Unveiling
AT MY AUNT’S UNVEILING
At my aunt’s unveiling
There were five of us
Only five
One was a woman
A friend of hers
Not the closest one
But someone who knew her
And wanted to be a friend.
Thousands of people had known my aunt
Hundreds had worked with or for her
She was born into a large family
But all of them were gone
Or out of it.
My sister and I were the relatives
My aunt had been very generous to us
And difficult for my sister
Who cared for her.
I had only been a taker all the years.
My aunt worked so hard for so many years
And she was ‘somebody’ in her world
There were five of us there
And the ceremony short
No minyan.
There was no sign of my aunt’s smile
Or her nervous energy or her superabundant love
‘Moll ‘as my mother called her
was not there.
I see her so clearly in my mind now
‘What does it all mean? ’ my father would ask my mother
after reading of the death of another person they knew
‘What does it all mean’
When my sister and I go
The memory of my aunt
Will be gone forever.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Grandma Didn't Spend A Dime To Find Logic
Those who believe they can predict Mother Nature,
Are the same ones who perceive,
They can create the flavor and taste...
Of Grandma's award winning Sweet Potato Pie.
Only to realize,
Such predictions are a waste of time...
And money spent,
Educating themselves to 'be' Grandma.
When Grandma didn't spend a dime to find logic.
Grandma had a mind of her own.
Satisfying each and everytime AND was unpredictable!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Aunt Tabitha
THE YOUNG GIRL'S POEM
WHATEVER I do, and whatever I say,
Aunt Tabitha tells me that is n't the way;
When she was a girl (forty summers ago)
Aunt Tabitha tells me they never did so.
Dear aunt! If I only would take her advice!
But I like my own way, and I find it so nice
And besides, I forget half the things I am told;
But they all will come back to me--when I am old.
If a youth passes by, it may happen, no doubt,
He may chance to look in as I chance to look out;
She would never endure an impertinent stare,--
It is horrid, she says, and I must n't sit there.
A walk in the moonlight has pleasures, I own,
But it is n't quite safe to be walking alone;
So I take a lad's arm,--just for safety, you know,--
But Aunt Tabitha tells me they did n't do so.
How wicked we are, and how good they were then!
They kept at arm's length those detestable men;
What an era of virtue she lived in!--But stay--
Were the men all such rogues in Aunt Tabitha's day?
If the men were so wicked, I 'll ask my papa
How he dared to propose to my darling mamma;
Was he like the rest of them? Goodness! Who knows?
And what shall I say, if a wretch should propose?
I am thinking if Aunt knew so little of sin,
What a wonder Aunt Tabitha's aunt must have been!
And her grand-aunt--it scares me--how shockingly sad
That we girls of to-day are so frightfully bad!
A martyr will save us, and nothing else can;
Let me perish--to rescue some wretched young man!
Though when to the altar a victim I go,
Aunt Tabitha 'll tell me she never did so.
poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes
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Grandma
Grandma wish you were here
the walks and the talks and playing with chalk
make me miss you most
sitting around the table playing cards
watching you dance the cards around
listening to the stories of old
boy, do i remember them well
it's been years since you gone to a better place
I miss you so
trips to the store, we enjoyed
Miller's Store small, but busy
tell me about the candies we will buy
butterscotch was our favorite
Grandma, I miss you so
thanks for sharing your stories
being my friend, giving me time
I will always have you in my dreams
walking to the store, dancing cards
love you so, missing you most
Grandma's gone, but her soul is here
poem by Michael Peterson
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Grandma’s Little Angel
Grandma’s little angel is what you will be called, sent to us from the wings of another angel, heaven has a kiss of blessing with your name all around it, a loving gift from God “Grandma little Angel.”
Grandma’s little angel is who we are waiting for; I have been blessed with a grandchild that I will love forever more.
Grandma’s little angel I will truly adore, cherish the ground she walk upon, kiss her baby feet, hold her tiny hands until she falls to sleep.
Grandma’s little angel the apple of my eyes a wonderfully feeling of joy until the day I die. Little angel kiss my heart, touched my soul I can’t wait until the day comes that I could behold “Grandma’s little angel.”
Grandma’s little angel has already embraced my soul, our eyes has not yet seen the love that will soon unfold. She is my little light the fire that burns deep from within Grandma’s little Angel a kiss from heaven sent.
Grandma’s Little Angel from blossoms flowers grows, beautifully like a red wine rose touched my heart like no one really knows.
Grandma’s little angel I did not fully understand the blessing that was sent from God’s loving hand, he opened my eyes so I can clearly see the love that he in trusted in thee.
poem by Kimbaline Navas
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Rameela Aunty of Lily Avenue Wellawatte.
The angels came and a lovely dignified lady is...sadly gone
Her gentle voice and loving words hear not another morn
Golden memories are silver souvenirs that... will linger on
With a love she shared with grace a strength to move on
The fragrance of faith and love embedded in the hearts
As she spun velvet words deep into her young ones heart
will be missed by many....
Mel Nad Marie...granaunt and great gran aunt
Fazli Sameer paternal aunt.
passed away 9th October 2010
poem by Shirani Ibrahim
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