People live forever in Jacksonville and St. Petersburg and Tampa,
But you don't have to live forever to become a grampa.
The entrance requirements for grampahood are comparatively mild,
You only have to live until your child has a child.
...
Lo, now four other act upon the stage,
Childhood and Youth, the Many and Old age:
The first son unto phlegm, grandchild to water,
Unstable, supple, cold and moist's his nature
...
Here I am in the garden laughing
an old woman with heavy breasts
and a nicely mapped face
...
A monosyllabic European called Sax
Invents a horn, walla whirledy wah, a kind of twisted
Brazen clarinet, but with its column of vibrating
Air shaped not in a cylinder but in a cone
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Portate bien,
behave yourself you always said to me.
I behaved myself
when others were warm in winter
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I followed the narrow cliffside trail half way up the mountain
Above the deep river-canyon. There was a little cataract crossed the path,
flinging itself
Over tree roots and rocks, shaking the jeweled fern-fronds, bright bubbling
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It was a summer evening;
Old Kaspar’s work was done,
And he before his cottage door
Was sitting in the sun;
...
It was a summer evening,
Old Kaspar's work was done,
And he before his cottage door
Was sitting in the sun,
...
As one who in his journey bates at noon,
Though bent on speed; so here the Arch-Angel paused
Betwixt the world destroyed and world restored,
If Adam aught perhaps might interpose;
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Straight as a nun I sit.
My fingers foolish before paper and pen
hide in my palms. I hear the slow, accented echo
How are yu? I ahm fine. How are yu?
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Mean while the heinous and despiteful act
Of Satan, done in Paradise; and how
He, in the serpent, had perverted Eve,
Her husband she, to taste the fatal fruit,
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My dear father,
Who was determined to educate me well,
To the best of his ability.
Remained throughout my life,
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Old man in the crystal morning after snow,
Your throat swathed in a muffler, your bent
Figure building the snow man which is meant
For the grandchild's target,
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Vincent loved to have models to do his paintings.
When Theo's monthly fund arrived,
Every morning, he went round in search of models.
He would invite different kinds of people to his house,
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My Grandma
A beautiful lady,
Whose face shone like a silver moon,
So lovely, like a pink rose,
...
Today is the Independence day of the USA
but I do not want to create a poem about that, oh nay!
it is the first birthday of my first grandchild
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Anika awakens the child in me,
I watch her, as she fetches her toys
And shows off with pride and glee
With her, I don’t have to act poised.
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THIS day, Time winds th' exhausted chain;
To run the twelvemonth's length again:
I see, the old bald-pated fellow,
With ardent eyes, complexion sallow,
...
I bought my little grandchild Ann
A bright balloon,
And I was such a happy man
To hear her croon.
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A son sits by his father with questions in his eyes
The father looks down at his son, his pride he can't disguise.
There comes a time when every son must leave his father's care
and venture out into the world to see what happens there.
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Convalescing after a surgery
I was forbidden by the surgeon
from lifting weight, walking long,
driving, even travelling by car.
...
From torrid heat to frigid cold
I've rovered land and sea;
And now, with halting heart I hold
My grandchild on my knee:
...
I am witness to the lively conversation between
Indoor and outdoor plant and here it goes:
I am indoor plant, a plant meant to grow and live,
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Hence a while, severer Muses;
Spare your slaves till drear October.
...
I
THE Indian weed withered quite;
Green at morn, cut down at night;
...
I.
BROWN Autumn cometh, with her liberal hand
Binding the Harvest in a thousand sheaves:
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'TWAS summer eve; the changeful beams still play'd
On the fir-bark and through the beechen shade;
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We bought an electric monkey, experimenting rather
recklessly with funds carefully gathered since
grandfather's time for the purchase of a steam monkey.
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Introductory Poem:
Is it me, Bri, or Poem Hunter, which makes sharing (with you) these verses....
so cumbersome and frustrating? Is it my advancing age OR some other curses? !
...
Having thousands of gardens,
Having millions of flowers,
Is the city of gardens!
With wise learned wardens!
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Down by the Sutlej shore,
Where sound the trumpet and the wild tum-tum,
At winter's eve did come
A gaunt old northern lion, at whose roar
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MARK'D--as the hours should be, Fate bids us spend
With one illustrious, or a cherish'd friend--
Rich in the value of that double claim,
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I’m giving all my Colombo videos to the library,
I don’t know if they want them,
Perhaps curious folks with time
Will check them out and get hooked,
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BEHOLD, unto myself I said,
This place how dull and desolate,
For lovely thoughts how all unmeet,
This drear and darksome London street.
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Their grandchild’s silken first hair
brushed with tender love;
their own hair, grey or white or gone;
...
[In memory of E. S. Frazee, Rush County, Indiana]
Into the acres of the newborn state
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If I remember Raschi? An I live,
Grandson, to bless thy grandchild, I'll forget
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Back today, Yay....!
(about Vinhie and Miffy)
Good morning to all poets-friends in Poem Hunter
...
I listen to the call for prayers in the mosques,
I listen to the bells of churches and temples,
In front of my eyes is an asteroid sent by my god,
So you are going to end this sinful world, oh my lord!
...
THE storm had ceased to rave: subsiding slow
Lashed ocean heaved, and then lay calm and still;
From the clear North a little breeze did blow
...
I'm a grandchild of the Gods
Who on th' Amstel have abodes;
Whence their orders forth are sent
Swift for aid and punishment.
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Along the banks of Cyprus Creek
Where panthers prowl and “gators” creep
The murky water fairly teems
With cottonmouths and Cyprus knees
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Sweet are those days;
Playing with the peer,
Crying for broken toys,
Fighting for mom's lap.
...
The sign said
'The Shop of Dislocated Hearts'
and I went in.
...
Another year has passed, my love,
And now it's twenty five:
The total years our marriage has
Been true, and been alive.
...
Oh! Oh! ! Oh! ! !
This is not a cry of pain.
It is the sound of the push of
the pangs of the birth of a tale
...
A crazy foolish poet,
who wanted to write a poem on his best friend,
was going to ask Kelly Kurt,
are you my best friend?
...
It was a summer evening;
Old Kaspar was at home,
Sitting before his cottage door--
Like in the Southey pome--
...
She sailed upon a gentle sea of melancholy-brave oars dipping.
She was awash with long ago laments which I could not guess.
Her movements were slow.
...
He was the neighbor boy
and I, the city girl
banished to the countryside
to the grandparents,
...
Oh! I am so happy
I am so happy at what
It is happening to me
I am getting Old
...
In my family
people who were eighty-two were very different
from people who were ninety-two
The eighty-two-year-old people grew up
...
With the ghostly shapes of dead heroes
Moon, you fill
The growing silence of the forest,
Sickle-moon—
With the gentle embraces
...
Its trunk is right next to the front gate
so that as I go out, there's a faint flicker
of guilt and anger - next door's insurance company
want me to have it cut down, which I resent; it's just
...
I see a grave very small,
Inside it an infant is sleeping,
His soul is away but where is the soul,
I shall tell you, wait, and let me fly,
...
In my youth I began to dig a hole ….
in which to bury the woes of the world.
But as I dug (some said: 'like a ‘mad' mole') ,
more and MORE worldly woes unfurled.
...
Your my light at the end of the tunnel,
Your my strength when I'm feeling down
Your my happiness gained in an instant,
Your laughter makes my world go round,
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Some expired but some still in circulation
Children play with it, love their accumulation
Grandparents are old coins
When a lovely grandchild joins
...
A very frothy, cup of coffee,
My sweetheart's kiss, which is sheer bliss,
Some time for me, plus a pot of tea,
Reflexology for the feet, now that's a treat,
...
IN my hot youth I rashly penned
A Sonnet of the After-life.
It was the time of stress and strife
Through which the ardent soul must wend.
...
Rogero flies; Astolpho with the rest,
To their true shape Melissa does restore;
Rinaldo levies knights and squadrons, pressed
...
The child is ahead of me,
he is jogging faster than me.
But why he is turning back and looking at me?
I love his half eyes on me.
...
I see you scattered everywhere,
too far, too near, here and there.
Can't You come to me in person?
Are you behind the grills of a prison?
...
never in my life could i foresee
that a school crossing guard
would be a life for me.
but looking into my grandchild's eyes
...
OF manufactures, trade, inventions rare,
Steam-towers and looms, you'd know our Borough's
...
COMRADES: the world is built upon our dead
and our feet have created all the roads.
Also, beneath every sky, there is not an inch of shadow
...
Old Grandpere gat in the corner,
With his grandchild on his knee,
Looking up at his wrinkled visage,
For his winters were ninety-three.
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You started your journey as a seed from within,
you grew from love - then your journey began.
The moment you were born & i eyed your tiny frame,
The love overwhelmed me - my life would never be the same.
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When Mother was a young girl,
what would she have felt
...
Somewhere, always.........
A child is born and cries out loud.
...
The same old dream of my youth age,
I have forgotten it but it wasn't dead,
it was stored in the unconscious cells,
and today it was activated some how.
...
Through the deep night
he drove in and out of
so many remembered lives.
A mere hour earlier
...
Let me look for it on the graves
of those who loved me more than themselves,
let me look for it in the curves and curls
of my loving beloved who shared my days
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Your grandpa had a child &
his child was so very, very mild.
But then she got so very, very wild,
which resulted in Kim, his grandchild!
...
No Time Like The Present.
36 C degrees TODAY outside mine house,
hotter than Sylvia Plath's oven.
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I’ve started a 'showcase' on my PoemHunter site,
which is NOT a contest; it’s no arena for a fight,
but instead a place where once a month I shall post..
a poem* from you, a PH member, which you’d like read most.
...
Mother may I
throw food around
because I am contrary as an infant?
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Under a spreading chestnut tree
...
When loneliness feels depressed
A pocket radio sings from far street
A distant song hits romantic
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Primal dutch....
submit a poem today
do not hesitate!
...
Early forenoon impressions,
full of tender tensions
as far as the eye could see
...
Your presence so wonderful in every way,
Your smile like the sun that lights up my day,
Your voice like an angel,
From heaven above,
...
Great were the men, who changed the world,
Greater are mothers, who gave birth to the men,
Greatest is God, who created the motherly love,
What of women even poisonous reptiles
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Death on the arms of a Boy
(Tender boy Mayukh)
Death on the tender arms,
He tried with pain to stop the wheel,
...
Grandchildren are such a blessing
to an old man like me.
There is nothing better
than spending time with a grandchild
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Thou damn'd antipodes to common sense!
Thou foil to Flecknoe! Prithee tell from whence
Does all this mighty stock of dullness spring,
Which in such loads thou to the stage dost bring?
...
Tonight, I look, thunderstruck
at the gold head of my grandchild.
Almost asleep, he buries his feet
...
Corona Crisis Cycle
Corona, our most dilemma
1,5 meter distance yes
...
O what a lovely poem
JAWAD AKHTAR JANABH JI
...
Who can say no to the calls of nature?
Neither me, nor you, nor your child,
nor anyone else.
When you gift a modern cell phone or a tablet,
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There is a wise old saying…an ancient Chinese gem:
When three people walk together my teacher is among them.
We had a simple dinner with some friends and the first thing I was taught
...
<font color=purple>I sit in my armchair and still caress your thighs…
These wooden frames contain for me forever
The memory of your smile…
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Long time beside the squatter's gate
A great grey Box-Tree, early, late,
Or shine or rain, in silence there
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I bring Fae flowers. When I cross the street,
She meets and gives me lemons from her tree.
As if competitors in a Grand Prix,
The cars that speed past threaten to defeat
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My wife agrees to babysit overnight
our new granddaughter—Zoe Miranda.
“They need some time alone, ” she says,
and I think aloud “And so do we.”
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A GRANDCHILD GIVES NEW HOPE IN LIFE
A grandchild gives new hope in life
An old man plays and says nonsense
...
I’m no mathematician...I don’t know Pythagoras’s theorem from that simple ratio Pi
But after spending a few days with the grandchildren I know numbers do not lie.
Yes numbers play an important role as we travel down life’s path
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Fallen in battle in the mountains of Santa Catalina, Negros Oriental,1987 A.D., a hill warrior talks to his daughter, three years old, from the trail where his bones lie unburied
Sure I had them in my backpack,
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The old sea captain has sailed the seas
So long, that the waves at mirth,
Or the waves gone wild, and the crests of these,
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Happiness
You can't pursue happiness and catch it;
Happiness does not depend or start
With what happens outside of you,
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