Thankless Scions
Grandma was in isolation
She was in an isle of distress
The children whom she fed
With the blood turned milk
In her breasts
Have all flown and vanished
And she left abandoned
With the linings all over
In mind and skin
Heralding the arrival
Of the frail old December
Of the life, the end of the span!
The marvelous culture
Of a house- hold adorned
With grandma and grandpa
With children and grand children
Went into oblivion!
The grandma and grandpa
Is a hindrance to their children
Is a bad omen to scions
And an inconvenience
To the young and dynamic!
Grandma and grandpa
Are ignored and caged
As of a dog or parrot
And fed like a slave
Tied to a pole in chains!
The thankless sons and daughters
Never care the sufferings
And sacrifices of Ma and Papa
And they want to be alone
As being youthful in spirit
And are eager to enjoy
The spring of life
Where they hate the face of autumn!
Grandma, Grandpa, Ma and Papa
Are omen of autumn
That they never wish to sight!
The young whose blood
Rushes with the fuel of Ma's milk
Forget that the green leaves
Will turn yellow
And wither away
And an autumn is is hibernation
To embrace them tomorrow!
poem by Vadakkumpurath Ramesan
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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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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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Old Upright Piano
For as long as I remember, when friday night came round
The family would gather out at grandpas house.
With supper over and the dishes done
It was then the best time came
At an old upright piano that only grandma played.
She played beautiful dreamer, my wild irish rose;
She never played em perfect, but there was love in every note.
Grandpa sat beside her, in harmony they sang,
At the old upright piano that only grandma played.
Grandpa was a stubborn man, they said it was his style.
Grandma called him ornery, but she said it with a smile.
Even he could not disguise the love he felt so strong;
We all could see it in his eyes when she played his favorite song.
She played beautiful dreamer, my wild irish rose;
She never played em perfect, but there was love in every note.
Grandpa sat beside her, in harmony they sang,
At the old upright piano that only grandma played.
I was almost 17 when my grandma died;
I stayed all night with grandpa; the old man never cried.
He sat at her piano, there was nothing we could say
It was the first time in my life I ever heard my grandpa play.
It wasnt beautiful dreamer or my wild irish rose
It was a song he played from memory & he never missed a note
I sat right there beside him until the morning came
What a friend we have in jesus was the only song he played.
She played beautiful dreamer, my wild irish rose;
She never played em perfect, but there was love in every note.
Grandpa sat beside her, in harmony they sang,
At the old upright piano that only grandma played.
song performed by by Nitty Gritty Dirt Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Grandpas Rocking Chair for M lady Chitra
On the front porch a rocking chair
nobody uses no one dare
Nor dare they move it anywhere.
Grandpa decreed it must stay there
What grandpa said was what he meant
he left no room for argument.
He simply stated his intent
Though other folk felt different
When Grandpa died the family tried
to set his iron rule aside
You’ll rue this day their Grandma cried
Your Grandpa will not be defied.
They moved the chair to show they could
though grandma did not think they should
She warned them all that nothing good
would come of this. She understood
although she knew Grandpa was dead.
She knew he’d rise in wrathful pride
to reinforce what he has said.
His last command before he died.
The chair was moved despite her pleas.
Her warnings were not listened to.
From that day on they knew no peace
Til grandma told them what to do
The rocking chair must be restored
to where Grandpa said it should be.
They all agreed of one accord
the chair replaced immediately.
Sometimes at night it seems to be
moving gently slowly rocking
Although there’s nothing they can see
they know that Grandpas visiting.
To see his word is still obeyed.
That no one moves his rocking chair.
Nobody will they’re too afraid.
They know sometimes he still sits there.
27-Oct-08
http: // blog.myspace.com/poetic piers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Grandpa Orange Garden
From my grandpa Orange Garden
You can saw green orange leaf
all over the place
it fruits had started ripening
He frequently late going home
My grandma hit “Kentongan ”)
For going home soonly
But my grandpa workinghard
Forgotten to eat and drink, and going home
When he going home he saw the roof falling down
And black cloud seen in the sky
Quickly my grandfather took the ladder
Up to the roof and care the roof
For bettering their room
The rain fall from the sky
My grandpa walking down from teh roof
sleppy, and never wake up again
my grandma cried till morning
forgotten the orange fruit harvest
she embrace her husband slept strectched on the ground
in the meeting room
where children and grandchildren are gathering
to day you couldn’t seen the green leaf orange
the fresh orange leave the smeel in my reminiscences
the garden leave high and dry
no grandpa touch down at
the leafs through,
it stalks to let dryness
dryness and to wither
the dush fly everywhere
the house and garden is empty
only ghosts dwell in that house
I still remember
I fomerly run there
Among the orange stem trees
Under the orange leaf shady
His Only one message:
Don’t pick those oranges before ripe
Jakarta,6/29/2005
poem by Prasetya Utama
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Grandma
his son wants to get rid of
grandma
she removed the stickers
of his childhood from the walls
of his room
his cabinet cleaned of his toys
and he did like it
he has a mind of his own
and does not want to be
grandma's victim
like his papa
he thinks that when
grandma dies or when
she leaves to finally
return to her ancestral house
their family
shall be one again
he wants his pride whole
his ego unfractured
unlike his papa
he does not want any
stories about a boy
who was beaten almost to death
in the name of parental respect
when grandma begins to speak
he shuts his ears
and closes the door of his room
he still dreams of his
stickers and his toys and
a world without grandmas
and now papa must choose
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A True Story of A True Pet.... My Grandmother's Pet
Pets are always very precious!
They feel and understand our feelings and sorrows!
My maternal grandma an humanist
She tame many pets like cats, pigeons etc
It is her hobby and fun!
She gives foods to her pets regularly and sufficiently
She feeds the pigeons and cats
She love her cat a lot!
She gives milk, meat, fish, bones, rice as his foods
Her pets love her a lot!
She takes care of them very lovingly
But those days were very strange and sad!
My grandpa had died that day!
After his death, that cat not used to eat anything and survive without food
He was behaving very strangely
Even that cat could understand feelings of grandma about her husband That cat was sad to see grandma in pain and couldn't tolerate the pain of the mournful death
At last, the cat had died because of not taking foods
Grandma found it under the bed
Grandma says that was her favorite pet!
poem by Z.I. Mahmud
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Kids
Kids - kids, Christmas i-is for kids
Look around and you will see
Kids from one to ninety-three
Laughin', lovin' life and bein' kids
Kids - ki-i-i-ids, Christmas i-is for kids
Kids like you and little brother
Aunts and uncles, dads and mothers
Grandma, grandpa an' all the other kids
Daddy runs the 'lectric train
While all the children wait in vain
To take their turn
At playin' engineer
Grandpa catches grandma's cheek
And all the family sneaks a peak
And suddenly
Their wrinkles disappear
Take a look at Betty Joe
Underneath the mistletoe
Pretending that
She doesn't know it's there
And in the front yard Uncle Mike
Just fell off brother's brand new bike
There's Christmas cheer
And laughter everywhere
Kids (kids) - ki-i-i-ids (kids)
Christmas i-is for kids
Christmas time is here again
And now it's when the fun begins
This time of year we all turn into kids...
song performed by by Kenny Rogers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Same As Here
I got home from school one day
with a dark spot on my eye
Masiter Kumedzro always say:
fighting was against the rules
so when Grandma got home I told her a story
just like I'd rehearsed some hours before
and there I stood on my trembling knees
waiting for the worst
interestingly, she did not say a word
when she got into the kitchen she called
she said son 'Let me tell you a secret
about a Grandma's love”
a secret she said was just between us
she said, “Grandma’s don't just love their children
every now and then, it's a love without an end, amen'
when I became a father
there was no doubt my son was a stubborn boy
he was not like me but as just like my father's son
one day when I thought my patience
had been tested to the end too long
I took my Grandma's secret
and I passed it on to him
he hugged me and cried on my shoulders
last night I dreamed I'd died
and stood outside those pearly gates of Salem
suddenly, I realized, there must be some mistake
supposing St. Peter knows half the things I've done
he would never open the gate to let me in
there a deep voice spoke from the other side of the dome
and I heard those words again
it said, “Son Grandpa’s don't just love their children
every now and then, it's a love without an end, amen'
poem by Padmore Enyonam Agbemabiese
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Adventure
My grandfather, Charlie
Began that family trait!
He had a moving company...
The first of its kind,
In a city that draped its hate!
They didn't say it openly,
But it was known to segregate.
And Charlie did the best he could,
To see his family didn't suffer and ate!
And the family grew to be much more than eight!
By the time I was eight my grandma and pop...
Had popped out eighteen!
My uncle Gay Hall and aunt Virginia,
Were the last to dropp on this scene!
And Charlie saw it well,
That grandma never worked...
She had raised Twenty-one of her own.
And it was always an adventure then,
To see who would love...and to see who love would hurt!
To watch mama and papa take care of their kin!
Nothing what I've done has ever been
That adventurous to be driven
To protect AND defend!
Not to us who didn't know
What we know now but not back then.
Not back in those days!
Nothing what I've done
Has been that adventurous on my plate!
I'm glad my grandpa gave me a little taste of my fate.
I guess my grandpa left me something,
I could easily neglect...no matter what the debate.
Easily if not injected with a bit adventure in my blood...
And 'gifts' he left me I will always respect!
And much appreciate!
Because of my grandpa,
Any adventure from a kindred center,
Growing with it and letting it create!
I've always wanted that next adventure....
One
To be the very best...and giving me the shakes!
Thinking of adventure as something to expect!
Wanting more each time its done.
Wanting it just like sex! I guess.
Nothing what I've done of late...
Has made me want adventure less!
Nothing I can remember in September.
Maybe
When it begins to become cool and shady!
And just 'maybe'...
I'll suspect and seize the adventure in October,
If it presents and these attached
Grandpa family tied 'adventurements'
Don't drive me crazy!
Sometimes we have to give time just to be lazy!
To rest and refresh!
Special thanks:
Diane Violet
For the closing line in this poem!
AND I've since 'added' onto 'that line'!
Thanks again, Dee...
~for 'refresh'~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
My sister’s fate
A man comes
To our house
To take my sister’s hands
Grandma meets him
Leads him from the floor
To the stairs
Then for a talk in the
Living room
Brings him to the
Dining room for
Light snacks
While sister arranges
Some flowers in the vase,
Grandpa stares at him
From the tip of his hair
To the tip of his toe,
And then sister and him
Have a sweet talk
On sweet nothings
Just like any lover
After a while,
He is excused
As it is dark
And grandma and
Grandpa have their
Own kind of talk,
And then tells sister,
“He is no good,
We have seen his eyes
And his footsteps
Drop him”.
But her heart beats
For him and she is ready
For future regrets.
Oh, how she follows
Her heart that loves
The man who deceives
her from the very start
(sequel follows in due time)
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I remember we were all horrified to see Grandpa up on the roof with his Superman cape on. 'Get down' yelled Uncle Lou. 'Don't move' screamed Grandma. But Grandpa wouldn't listen. He walked to the edge of the roof and stuck out his arms, like he was going to fly. I forget what happened after that.
Jack Handey in Deep Thoughts
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Grandma
Above the bed
Old photos stared down
Solemnly from the wall.
Behind the glass frame
Grandpa wore
His grey uniform
Of the Great War;
Grandma her sombre dress.
She died before I was born
And grandpa shortly after.
The only grandparent
That I knew was
My mother’s step mother.
For some reason
She did not get along well
With my parents
But I basked
In the warmth of her
Pampering indulgence.
In the manner
Of old peasant women
She dressed in long black
Garments that covered
Her delicate frame,
Hanging down
From her fragile shoulders
Like late autumn leaves.
I think I was about
Three years old
When I became very sick
With dysentery.
Grandma took me
To her house to recover.
I lost my appetite
And her remedies
Included a daily dose
Of red wine
Which she served me
In a small crystal glass.
Holding my hand in hers
Sometimes she took me
For a walk in the streets.
As we passed
The men removed
Their hats
To greet her.
In the summer of 1944
The gendarmes came
And pushed her onto
A crammed cattle car
For a horrible journey
Across Nazi occupied Europe
From Hungary to Poland.
At the end of the voyage
Grandma was murdered
In the gas chambers
Of Auschwitz.
Her body was burned
In the fires of ovens
Her ashes soared
With the flames
Of the chimneys,
Carried by the winds
To the skies,
Rising higher and higher
To the planets
And the stars.
poem by Paul Hartal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Grandma's Old Piano Was Sold
grandma's piano is old.
she died ten years ago
being the second wife of grandpa.
my mother is her second child
that she sent to piano school
but father found her and married
her when she was still 18.
and i was born as their fourth
child. Mother knows how to play
the moonlight sonata which father
loves to listen at night when
i learn how to smile and laugh.
One day Papa found another woman
whom he said made him new again
and he left Mama.
One day Mama died and Papa married
that woman.
One day i left home.
One day the piano was sold
One day the piano was taken to another
town so far away from us.
One day, all these things, the piano, Papa
and my step mother are forgotten.
But then the Moonlight Sonata comes again
One night
From another piano nearby.
The keys are no longer made
From elephant tusks like grandma's old piano.
Not the off white of ivory.
So white and smooth like a well brushed teeth
of a very young boy.
I like to hear it when he learns
how to gnash.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Four Walls
(Don Rollins / Harry Stinson / D. Vincent Williams)
My grandpa farmed for a livin'
Content to live the simpler kind of life
My grandma worked in the kitchen
Awfully proud to be that farmers wife.
Chorus:
They use to say
That they got everything that they need
Each morning they wake up
Four walls, three words, two hearts, one love.
Here I am, ring on my finger
Grandpa's little grandson all grown up
I found my rock, and I plan to keep her
I wish they were here to see the two of us.
Chorus:
They'd be proud to know
We've got everything that we need
Each morning we wake up
Four walls, three words, two hearts, one love.
With the highway twice as wide
And the farmlands have divided
It's good to know that something never changes
I'm still lovin' and I'm still livin'
By those simple words of wisdom
Life and love come down to just four things.
My grandpa, Lord knows I miss him
And the way that he and grandma looked at life
And each day I count my blessings
To have that kind of love here by my side.
Chorus:
No matter what
We know we got everything that we need
Each morning we wake up
Four walls, three words, two hearts, one love.
We've got everything we need
Between the two of us
Four walls, three words, two hearts, one love...
song performed by by Randy Travis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Grandma Hepner
I know this will be the last time
The last time I get to touch your face
Embrace your welcoming smile
Hold on to you
I don't want this moment to come
I don't want to have to say goodbye
Grandma I know I am selfish
But you cannot leave me
I know I have not been there for you
When you have been with me through everything
I love you Grandma
And I do not want this to be the last time I saw you
I will miss you grandma
poem by Makayla Straight
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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