Grandson Poems

Here I am in the garden laughing
an old woman with heavy breasts
and a nicely mapped face
...

SURELY among a rich man s flowering lawns,
Amid the rustle of his planted hills,
Life overflows without ambitious pains;
And rains down life until the basin spills,
...

One fine night, in the middle of the day,
two atheists knelt down to pray.
Hymn books opened upside-down,
in Top Hat n Tails, and their dressing gown.
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On an island the soft hue of memory,
moss green, kerosene yellow, drifting, mingling
in the Caribbean Sea,
a six-year-old named Alfred
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I CALL on those that call me son,
Grandson, or great-grandson,
On uncles, aunts, great-uncles or great-aunts,
To judge what I have done.
...

I
MILES STANDISH

In the Old Colony days, in Plymouth the land of the Pilgrims
...

I was born in 1902
I never once went back to my birthplace
I don't like to turn back
at three I served as a pasha's grandson in Aleppo
...

Forget the suffering
You caused others.
Forget the suffering
Others caused you.
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Daddy left his boots for me
and here I have to stay
‘cause Daddy is a soldier,
I’m in charge while he’s away.
...

The sun was in the summer grass,
the Coolibahs* were twisted steel;
the stockman paused beneath their shade
and sat upon his heel,
...

O TAKE my hand, Walt Whitman!
Such gliding wonders! such sights and sounds!
Such join'd unended links, each hook'd to the next!
...

HERE, while the Thracian bard's enchanting strain
Sooths beasts, and woods, and all the listn'ing
plain,
The female Bacchanals, devoutly mad,
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The old man comes out on the hill
and looks down to recall earlier days
in the valley. He sees the stream shine,
the church stand, hears the litter of
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LO, praise of the prowess of people-kings
of spear-armed Danes, in days long sped,
we have heard, and what honor the athelings won!
...

Father, when he passed on,
left dust
on a table of papers,
left debts and daughters,
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BOOK I

Tell me, O muse, of that ingenious hero who travelled far and wide
...

In the spirit’s solitary hours
It is lovely to walk in the sun
Along the yellow walls of summer.
Quietly whisper the steps in the grass; yet always sleeps
...

"How shall I be a poet?
How shall I write in rhyme?
You told me once 'the very wish
Partook of the sublime.'
...

PALLAS, attending to the Muse's song,
Approv'd the just resentment of their wrong;
And thus reflects: While tamely I commend
Those who their injur'd deities defend,
...

I
want to die before you.
...

simple story:
relatives of death

a wise old man met a teenager under a bayan tree on the way and said, ''my grandson, life is uncertain! ''
...

In the realm of family, a bond so grand,
Where generations intertwine, hand in hand.
A grandfather's love, a guiding light,
A grandson's presence, pure delight.
...

My grandson came to visit me,
Had his smart phone out all the time.
Kids - so into technology,
So I complained to him that I'm
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There's a big zelkova tree on the hill,
Long ago, in my child days at home town.
Under it my grandmother waited me on the hill
Whenever I visited her house in home town.
...

Immediately after a grandson and his grandma walked into the bookstore…the grandson walked up to me…a little bit bemused…and asked if I would help his grandma…he smiled saying…"She is a bit confused."

"Certainly! " I said without a moment's hesitation…then the grandson told me this story…as a way of explanation.
...

Yesterday we took a little road trip…to Lakeland, Florida we roamed
to help our eldest grandson, his girlfriend and their dog move in to their new home

Two quick notes about time…two facts we can't deny….
...

I remember the day of her funeral…I noticed him…right from the start…and his is the memory that stands above all the others…that, to this day, remains etched in my heart.

The first pew in the church sat empty…except for her youngest grandson (his parents said he wanted it that way) …he said when it came time to talk about Grandma…he had something he wanted to say.
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"Grandpa...what is love? " His grandson asked with wonderment in her eyes.
"You ask a question with many answers." His Grandpa said. "Let me try and clarify."

"Love is like the moon." he said."It softly enchants our gazes…Its light is strong…its light is infinite…yet…it goes through many stages."
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He loved the stories his Grandpa would tell when he'd visit him on the reservation…his favorite story…the one he'd always ask for…was about the stars…and their creation.

"The stars form secretly in the Earth", Grandpa would begin, as he set him on his knee… "they drift under the surface until they find the roots of the cottonwood tree."
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One reason we are drawn to slow walks along the beach…besides the beauty we are shown…is that every walk along the shore has a magic of its own.

Even though we may walk the same beach…may amble the same shore
each walk is filled with subtle differences than the walk before.
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