Come On In, The Senility Is Fine
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.
From that point on you start looking both ways over your shoulder,
Because sometimes you feel thirty years younger and sometimes
thirty years older.
Now you begin to realize who it was that reached the height of
It was whoever said that grandparents have all the fun and none of
For Grace Bulmer Bowers
From narrow provinces
of fish and bread and tea,
home of the long tides
where the bay leaves the sea
twice a day and takes
the herrings long rides,
Friendship is love,
Without friendship love means nothing!
Without friendship love is empty…
Without friendship love is boring...!
Friendship means sharing…
People learn to share from friendship,
Share everything they have in life,
On The Amtrak From Boston To New York City
The white woman across the aisle from me says 'Look,
look at all the history, that house
on the hill there is over two hundred years old, '
as she points out the window past me
into what she has been taught. I have learned
little more about American history during my few days
back East than what I expected and far less
of what we should all know of the tribal stories
I Woke Up This Morning
I woke up this morning
and I was mourning
weary and broken
my life burnin' down to ashes and smokin'
and I frowned
and looked around
and I saw my bedroom cluttered with all
those keepsakes from the seashore and the doll
you sent from Vietnam and the dream catchers we made in mountain meadow
years and years ago
Hugging The Jukebox
On an island the soft hue of memory,
moss green, kerosene yellow, drifting, mingling
in the Caribbean Sea,
a six-year-old named Alfred
learns all the words to all the songs
on his grandparents’ jukebox, and sings them.
To learn the words is not so hard.
Many barmaids and teenagers have done as well.
But to sing as Alfred sings—
how can a giant whale live in the small pool of his chest?
1) I was born in a Free City, near the North Sea.
2) In the year of my birth, money was shredded into
confetti. A loaf of bread cost a million marks. Of
course I do not remember this.
3) Parents and grandparents hovered around me. The
world I lived in had a soft voice and no claws.
! A Zimbabwean Asks A Question
O Great Spirit,
You who in Your form of the Chapungu,
the great eagle with sharper eye than any aeroplane,
watches over us and knows all things;
who even descends from your great circles of flight
over our beautiful land of stone and earth and tree
to show a child lost in the bush
the way back to the village and to home,
please show us, too, the way back home, to You.
More like a vault -- you pull the handle out
and on the shelves: not a lot,
and what there is (a boiled potato
in a bag, a chicken carcass
under foil) looking dispirited,
drained, mugged. This is not
a place to go in hope or hunger.
But, just to the right of the middle
of the middle door shelf, on fire, a lit-from-within red,
heart red, sexual red, wet neon red,
Life And Death.
I know, or I think I know, where I was born.
New Plymouth, a city with two sprawling cemeteries,
where I found my grandparents' gravestones at last,
but they were covered in gray lichen and moss.
The kindly sexton said she would spray the gravestones
and I will go back to see them cleaned and clarified.
My grandparents were always there for me.
My grandfather taught me table manners, sternly.
Salut Au Monde
O TAKE my hand, Walt Whitman!
Such gliding wonders! such sights and sounds!
Such join'd unended links, each hook'd to the next!
Each answering all--each sharing the earth with all.
What widens within you, Walt Whitman?
What waves and soils exuding?
What climes? what persons and lands are here?
Who are the infants? some playing, some slumbering?
Sweet Family Of Divine Grace
Twisting back to time old memory we see,
Love builds heaven at home love is the key.
Sea of emotion floats in waves of joy light,
Father is in first from left is root of us right.
Bright future shines again by Divine's grace,
Deep thought and meditation make bright face.
Family, family, this world is family of love,
Leaflets From My Life - My Father's First Letter On Life & Lotus
My dear father,
Who was determined to educate me well,
To the best of his ability.
Remained throughout my life,
A Guardian Angel!
I was sixteen then,
I was to travel with my Dad from Cochin to Coimbatore
To graduate in English Literature.
But fate intervened.
A Boy In Hope
There is a place called Hope, Arkansas
Where a little boy grew up
No one ever dreamed that one day
His name would be on a special cup
At first he was raised by grandparents
They did the best they could
To give this little boy all their love
As all good grandparents would
Thank You, Mom
Thank You Mom-for holding me in your loving arms every time I cried.
Thank You Mom-for changing my diaper and singing me to sleep.
Thank You Mom-for holding my hand as you walked me onto the bus my first day of school.
Thank You Mom-for trudging through the snow each winter to watch me perform in the school play.
Thank You Mom-for cooking my favorite dinner the night I struck out to end the game.
Thank You Mom-for calling to say "I love you" the night I slept over Aunt Stephanie's house.
! ! The Poet's Significant Other - For Mary And Todd
On the shelf above the crackling fire,
the day’s work over, shadows swaying and flickering
across the room, in the firelight’s glow;
here is love abiding
On the shelf above the crackling fire
a few slim books, some of them poetry, some of them signed;
open them and the world spills out
tumbles laughing and crying, shouting
like children home from school with stories;
The Child And The Mariner
A dear old couple my grandparents were,
And kind to all dumb things; they saw in Heaven
The lamb that Jesus petted when a child;
Their faith was never draped by Doubt: to them
Death was a rainbow in Eternity,
That promised everlasting brightness soon.
An old seafaring man was he; a rough
Old man, but kind; and hairy, like the nut
Full of sweet milk. All day on shore he watched
The winds for sailors' wives, and told what ships
Limerick- Keen Observation
My neighbor's little son is so smart
In a write up on Grandparents, he wrote
"They never seem to hurry,
Any time, can tell a story
Before sleep, they take their teeth and gums out"
A Brief Introduction To My Thoughts (I'M Smiling, Darling, Not Whining)
Hi. The name is Lou.
Born in the land of the new moon,
raised in the Pearl of the Orient.
My Grandparents as my Parents,
My Parents as my Grandparents.
An outcast in the family,
treated like dirt, seen as a microbe.
Indie kid with an emo flare,
Teenage Angst mixed with cofee,
(323) True Innocence
A precious child, my little grand-daughter,
full of chuckles, love and great laughter.
Filled with innocence through and through,
with lots of hugs and kisses too.
I know proud grandparents will all agree,
the love we receive is precious and free.
They have no motives, no deep held secrets.
Holding on to us tight, cradled in our arms
filling us with a calm of their innocent charms.