Your Auntie Grizelda
By diane hilderbrand and jack keller
She knows her mind all right, your auntie grizelda,
She says she knows my kind, she might, maybe so.
Oh, yeah, shes raised you right, your auntie grizelda,
You only know the things she wants you to know.
I know shes having a fit,
She doesnt like me a bit,
No bird of grace ever lit on auntie grizelda.
You cant begrudge her style, your auntie grizelda,
She couldnt budge a smile and do it for free.
So righteous making fudge, your auntie grizelda,
So proper judging others over her tea.
You look just like her you do,
I know by looking at you,
That youve been listening to your auntie grizelda.
[ad lib]
Oh, no, dont look at me like auntie grizelda
It takes much more to be someone of your own.
Youve got to make it free from auntie grizelda
Or just like her youll have to make it alone.
I know shes having a fit,
She doesnt like me a bit,
No bird of grace ever lit on auntie grizelda.
Auntie grizelda, auntie grizelda
song performed by by Monkees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Unnecessary
Unnecessary,
Auntie said,
when you asked
about taking the mutt
for a walk;
he can take himself
for a walk,
in fact,
she continued
straining the cabbage,
the green water
pushing through
the stainless steel colander,
he runs,
he loves to run
all over the fields.
You knew he did,
you used to run with him,
and being that kind of mutt
he’d let you run beside him,
you being a small boy,
you being the one
who shared his bacon rinds,
you the one who filled
his water bowl
when Auntie forgot.
Sit down now,
Auntie said,
dinner is about
to be served,
and I hope
you have washed
your hands,
and she’d dish you
a large serving
of cabbage
with your meal
and she didn’t see
how that was so
unnecessary.
poem by Terry Collett
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Just Beyond
And Auntie saying Don’t
Go too far so I can’t see you
And off you’d go off down
The iron stairs with the dog
In pursuit and the wind in the
Sails of your coat and the sky
Beckoning above and Auntie’s
Voice trailing away on the wind’s
Wings and you happy as the sun
In the morning sky making your
Feet rush across grass and the dog
Overtaking looking back tongue
Out of the side of its mouth and
You saying Go on you mutt run
Run and your young legs taking
You far from Auntie’s sight and
Yet looking back you know she’ll
Be there hands in the clothes
Wash scrubbing away her elbows
Wet from the plunge and you
Throwing hands to the sky and
Saying Lift me up wind take me
To the great place beyond the clouds
Of white and sky of blue with just
The mutt and five year old you.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Nothing To Say.
Auntie took you to the hut
where the wives of the soldiers
met up to chat and drink tea
and eat cakes and you sat in
the chair looking at each of
them in turn wishing time
would go and you could go
back home to your few toys
and play but no Auntie carried
on the talking and the long
conversations were way over
your head and now and then
they’d break into laughter and
some woman’s kid would cry
and she’d say I think she needs
changing and off she’d go wheeling
the pram to another room and
Auntie’d talk to another woman
and you’d lift your eyes ceiling
wards and wonder where Uncle
was fighting and how he would
cope stuck in the hut with women
yakking all the time and one woman
smiled a big goofy smile at you and
offered you a cake and orange juice
but you shook your head and looked
away in silence sulking with no good
thoughts in your mind and nothing to say.
poem by Terry Collett
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Auntie and Hand Washing
You made your way from the john
to the dining table
and Auntie said
have you washed your hands?
yes
you said
are you sure?
Auntie asked
looking at you
with her fixed stare
and the black mutt
under the table
gazed at you too
I washed them this morning
you said
let me see your hands
Auntie said
and so you held out your hands
and she turned them over and up
and held them looking at them
you're meant to wash them
after going to the toilet each time
she said
not just
when you get up
in the morning
she released your hands
and you looked at them
as if they were suddenly there
before you for the first time
so you had best wash them
Auntie said
before I dish up your dinner
and so you went back
to the wash room
and turned on the tap
and taking soap
between your hands
you washed and rinsed
and dried them
on the white towel
on the rail and went back
to the dining room
and showed your aunt
that's better
she said
now go sit down
and wait for your dinner
and the black mutt
put its chin on your lap
waiting in anticipation
for titbits from your plate
and Auntie called out
from the kitchen
remember to say your prayer
before meals
and you said ok
and muttered
thank you for what I'm about to eat
may there be few vegetables
and lots of meat
and the mutt's dribble
wet your thigh
its jaw lingering there
giving you
its dark eyed stare.
poem by Terry Collett
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Auntie and Mutt.
Auntie cut the rind
off the bacon
and offered it
to the dog
but before the dog
could put his lips to it
you made off with it
down the cast iron stairs
beside the barrack block
and the dog followed you
barking as it did so
and once you reached the ground
you went off
onto the grass
and the dog
chased you
and jumped up at you
trying to reach
the bacon rind
you held between fingers
and Auntie called over
the metal rail
let the mutt have it
don't tease him
and so you bit
the rind in half
and gave the mutt one half
and ate the other yourself
but sometimes after Auntie
put the bacon rind
in the dog's bowl
you picked it up
and tossed it
over the balcony rail
onto the ground below
and the dog raced down
the stairs after it
but now and then
you pretended
to toss it over
and after the dog
raced off
you would hold it
over the side of the rail
and called to the mutt
and said
I still got it mutt
and the dog raced back
up the stairs
and you sat there
on the metal landing
and the dog came
and licked and nuzzled you
and you gave the dog
the bacon rind
and he licked you
and wagged its tail
and Auntie called out
what are you up to?
what are you doing now?
poem by Terry Collett
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My Auntie Zousy
auntie zousy works
as caregiver for years in chicago
to raise her grandchildren
she sent her children
to the university and they got married
and got separated from their husbands
messy, the life of auntie zousy had
always been messy but she survives
somehow
always on the go
finding work as caregiver in the
united states of america
she's 75 now and on her birthday
a party is tendered
surrounded by her 30 grandchildren or so
and inside the grand old house
of her ancestors
the laughters redound
reverberating the happy sounds
of a big family
i look at her
she is short, and emaciated and
her cheekbones show that she is not at all well
sickly, that is what auntie zousy is now
bent and misshapen
and yet in her silence
she has not surrendered
to the sacrifices of
love for the family
her grandchildren now sing
her a happy birthday
and she blows her 75 candles
in one swift breath
suddenly the room is dark
and smoke rises in the air
and she makes her
silent wish and then the lights
are turned on and laughter
follows as it will always will
happy, so happy, that is what
my auntie zousy is all about
a life of sacrifice
a lifetime of service
a life full of family laughter
a life full of love
age has not stolen
what she has treasured
now she waits for something
more exciting
perhaps, a happy death
a funeral surrounded by all
the grandchildren she always loved
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Midnight Sky
The midnight sky upon us,
Capturing our very souls,
The more we look up at it,
The more of our secrets it holds.
I looked up at the stars,
I let them know the thing I fear,
As a wish I asked to rid of it,
Without releasing these painful tears.
The more I thought about it,
The crazier it seemed
To bestow upon the stars
My deepest, dearest dream.
But don't you ever wonder,
'Will it ever come true? '
And then you go and try it,
Only to have it disappoint you.
poem by Grizelda Padilla
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Spied
How was it for you?
Uncle asked, lying
Slumped across Auntie,
Some small-beached
Whale, his voice escaping
His lungs as would air
From a punctured tyre.
Fine, it was fine, Auntie
Sighed, her soprano
Voice easing beneath
His sweaty soft bulk,
Unaware their young
Niece was standing silent
By the half open door,
Capturing them in the
Semi light, waiting small
And innocent to ask for
Water, dithering, unsure
Whether to ask and stay
Or simply to close the
Door and walk away.
poem by Terry Collett
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Auntie's Mutt
Auntie’d cut off
the bacon rind
and throw it
for the dog
and you’d grab it
and run down
the stairs with it
and the dog’d
run down after you
and the bacon rind
yapping at your heels
and you’d hold
the bacon rind up
and the mutt’d jump up
at it and you’d move it
higher and higher
and the mutt’d jump
higher and higher
until at last
he’d grab the bacon rind
between his teeth
and pull it
from your fingers
and run off
with his prize
and you’d stand there
clapping your hands
ready for the next
thrown out
bacon rind
from Auntie’s hand
up on the balcony.
poem by Terry Collett
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Christmas eve
auntie's excitement
for the church service
quote by by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Skipping!
A little girl was skipping;
As she swung her skipping rope
The neighbors heard her singing
And the song she sang was - Quote:
'Mummy's in the parlour
And she's there with Uncle Fred,
Daddy's in the garage
Says she's doing in his head,
Auntie Jane was crying
Now she's swimming in the pool
And I must keep on skipping
'Til it's time to go to school.'
The neighbors saw her skipping
All along the afternoon,
She skipped a hundred singles
As she sang her little tune:
'Mummy's saying nothing
But she hasn't any clothes,
Uncle Fred is staring
With a chopper through his nose,
Auntie Jane is floating
But her face is turning black
And Daddy's in the garage
With a rope around his neck.'
A little girl was skipping
But there wasn't any sound,
I guess she'll still be skipping
When the sun goes down…
1 April 2008
poem by David Lewis Paget
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Auntie's Skirts
Whenever Auntie moves around,
Her dresses make a curious sound,
They trail behind her up the floor,
And trundle after through the door.
poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
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At The High Lodge.
Auntie played the accordion
While others sang Goodnight
Irene in a discordant chorus
And the gas lamps had been lit
And you sat there amidst it all
Remembering the sound of crickets
On the way up to the high lodge
In the evening darkness with only
Uncle’s torch and the glow-worms
To cut through the blanket sky
Of black and London a long way
Off now and the sound of traffic
And bright lights and the smell
Of coal dust and fumes and sitting
There watching Auntie play and sing
And her fingers moving over the
Keyboard and the sense of tiredness
And the countryside smell entering
Into you and dreams of Jolly Rogers
And cowboy shootouts waiting for
You in the upstairs bedroom with its
Garden spiders in corners and darkness
After Uncle’s lamp went out and you
Imaging Mother in some far off train
Station still waving to you and London
Smells and lights hanging there about.
poem by Terry Collett
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aaa1 Especially the Donkeys
I remember thinking it’s all happening in the sky
Above the clouds
I remember thinking how did we get to know about it
6yrs old
With innocence of a child I never thought to question
Never asked mum or dad
Never asked anyone
Others believed so why not me
Anyway the stories were great
Grandad in his uniform, he believed
Auntie Rose believed
The whole side of dad’s family believed
They played in the band,
Sold the papers
Rattled the tins
Story was dad was thrown out for drinking
Off ill the doctor said Bill have some stout, it will do you good
When the officer saw it on a home visit dad was thrown out
But he still believed
So did I, with the innocence of a child
Auntie Gladys believed but they had no band
Just an organ, and the songs weren’t as good
No joy
Just belief
Uncle Fred repaired the roof, did odd jobs
He believed
Anyway it was worth believing for the Whit walks
People threw money
You kept it
After the walks the bus
The annual trip to Southport
Sandwiches and songs on the beach
Yet I still see myself, in the classroom
Dreaming of this land in the sky
Wondering why all these people didn’t fall out of it
Especially the Donkeys
poem by Bill Smith
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Inspired by Issa - A screaming child
a screaming child
as auntie lifts knife
to chop frog's head
inspired by
pond snails sing
they're in the kettle
but don't know it
-Issa,1812
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Auntie's Chrysanthemums
fourth auntie learnt
mandarin all on her own
the striking chrysanthemuns
she pleated from yellow straws
evoke a thought like
those magnificent flowers
there are indeed so many ways
one can bloom
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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A Family Christmas
Sitting in front of the fire, Auntie Flo's reciting a story,
it's one about her first Christmas as a newly wed,
the same one she broadcasts every year,
but no one is listening.
Uncle Fred, 'out to the world' snores rhythmically
on the sofa.
Mother exhausted, having cooked the lunch,
without help, as usual,
stifles a yawn.
Dad, brow furrowed, is trying to piece together
Eddy's lego set,
whilst Eddy glowers,
after all, it was 'his' present.
Joe, playing with a set of 'disco lights'
is sending flashes of colour across the room,
straight into Grandpa's eyes,
making him feel even more bilious
after having consumed too many chocolates.
Grandma's knitting.
Grandma always knits on Christmas Day,
and every other day, come to that,
probably yet another scarf for what she believes is
still the war effort.
The cat, curled up on her lap, purrs contently,
oblivious of the knitting needles, waving precariously
in front of his sleepy eyes.
Susan is gazing at the TV screen, .
glued, for the umpteenth time to, 'The Sound of Music' movie,
singing every song, word for word,
at the top of her voice.
'Turkey was nice', said Auntie,
'I was given too much', moaned Grandpa, belching loudly.
'Your problem is, you never can refuse a second helping', said Grandma, 'so it's your own fault'.
Mother grins and asks,
'Would anybody like another mince pie? '
poem by Ernestine Northover
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The Silly Dog
Upon the hills of Valley Drive
Lived Auntie Lil and Uncle Clive
There dog was aged, as much as five
It was still, staying alive
The grass was cut
And the clouds were blue
But the daft 'ald dog
Didn't have a clue.
At last the dog
Laid down to sleep
Until the next morning
Of dogs and sheep.
poem by Tom Ashman
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So This Is What Has Become Of Us.
So this is what has become of us:
You crawling on the cold kitchen floor
heaving your heavy frame, panting-
whimpering and wounded.
And me, sat in the lounge just four
feet away from your slivering form
staring at the Television, lips trembiling
from the sudden death of Auntie Jane
knowing that she will not smile
that splendid smile on screen again.
poem by Not Long Left
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Harlem In Havana
At the far end of the midway
By the double ferris wheel
Theres a band that plays so snakey
You cant help how you feel
Emmie mae ran away
With a man as dark as night
You can see him, if you go there
Second trumpet to the right
They play night train
So snakey
Black girls dancing
Long and lanky
Barkers barking
Step right up, folks!
The show is about to begin
Its harlem in havana time
Step right in!
Silver spangles
See em dangle in the farm boys eyes
Hootchie kootchie
Auntie ruthie wouldve cried
If she knew we were on the inside.
When emmie mae ran away
She came back a bottle blonde
God! the gossips had a gourmet feast
Chomping on how she was born
But miracle of miracles
Cuz we were underage
She got us nearly front row seats
To the right side of the stage
See that tall girl?
Thats a man
That one, too
Big yellow feather fan
Barkers barking
Step right up, folks!
The show is about to begin
Its harlem in havana time
Step right in!
Silver spangles
See em dangle in the farm boys eyes
Hootchie kootchie
Auntie ruthie wouldve died
If she knew we were on the inside.
song performed by by Joni Mitchell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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