grandmother

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  The air becomes dry and the wind stops mewling familiar hymns that I stopped singing So that I may talk to you  
Feet dragging, limbs hanging, eyes distant in their sacks. When old women's families send them here there is no looking back. They heap their sorrows, pray for tommorows, The halls are dark and dumb.
Nokomis  Isoäiti Grandmother  but she was so much more    she taught me how to love  and to be loved to be kind learn as much as you can
My grandmother  An old woman who has lived out her days being generous and kind My grandmother Giving her time and life to us  My grandmother
Everything we have, My grandmother says, We owe to the rain—   I think less of her name, Less of our history,
Ma
Dear Ma, The eleventh of March Nineteen seventy-nine Baby born at this time Little foot with an arch; Her dark green eyes glistened As she looked at her mom Pat held her in her palm
I write this poem To my grandmother A sister, a friend, A wife, A mother   The sweetest being One could know An uplifting spirit If you were low   She wore that smile
There once was a lady who had three beautiful daughters And she loved each very much, she said. she raised them in a world of strife Communist China was a mess So she ran away to a safer place
  in autumn i think of you. the way a leaf browns, curls up, and floats along wind, rustle becoming tremor becoming fall—  
Dear grandmother,   Promise I will never get tired of loving Every petal and thorn of Your worn out body.
She had one job. One simple job. She must've went back for the basket. ... And her Fitbit. Kids these days.   Steps don't count themselves, You know. If you don't get 10,000
double double, toil and trouble... the firelight quivers with every rumble; the old woman's hands stir up the pot; the air is stale with the smell of rot--  
My mother gave me a basket of food, a map And the warning, “Remember your place in the food chain.”   I nodded and left, hood overhead
I remember when my grandmother used to bathe me in her pink granite 90s bathtub She would pick me up a cup, laced with BPA, and fill it with lukewarm water Never too hot, for it might harm the child
 I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get so sick! When I was young, I had no idea, I would be sick, all I knew, is I wanted to be playing SUE and BETTY With my sister LOL the grown-up game, when I was nine.
Life and death both in front of me In an instant I can see through sixty-nine years I can see your mother and your father So much joy they must have had the day that you entered the world
Last year I was at a funeral for my grandmother. My strong, polish grandmother Who grew up in Dachau concentration camp. We all wept, Me especially,
Rita June, staring silent at Indiana snow, robed up in a worn, old, pink throw lights her cigarette by the kitchen window.   She squints and she licks her thin, blotted lips,
I was the type, that held on, expecting the worst, unable to release myself, from what I presumed was safe. I would hid in the shadows, waiting to be cleansed by the rain, but,
Who am I? Who was I? Who will I be? My mind wonders aimlessly as I see you lying at my feet Though your troubles have ended my world stays troubled still As I fight to attain all that for me you willed
Yellow and grey- A sickly combination For the skin of a prior beauty queen. A machine to help you breathe, And a face I hardly recognize.
But I always knew of the pain in my clan, Of the burden that sat on the shoulders of my blood. I learned to walk on thin ice Never felt she was mine to feel
She went at 53, And took a part of me She probably didn’t know I’d come But, too bad, life played her like a drum.  
You are my sunshine, My grandmother’s voice is hushed by the foam of the waves. Her fingers delicately reposition a ringlet of hazelnut behind my ear.
The conductor raises his silver baton Grandma lifts her silver spoon The allegro commences: Illuminated by the tempo, the music lifts and spins Under the fluorescent track lights the batter twirls and folds
I have grown to hate my grandfather.  I have grown to hate my grandfather. I have grown to hate his smile. I have grown to hate his smile that used to greet me with such kindness and authority. 
My little love so far above. I do miss your loving kiss.   The night is full of scars without you my little star. You were my rock the key to my lock   I may be a monster
My grandmother just told me That is wasn't her fault she was lonely. She thinks she was in the right To make me not fight
You used to call me Jessy I always hated it But now I would give anything,  Everything To hear you call me Jessy Just one more time
Just once more, I want to see That smile you used to give me Sitting there silently Pondering life reflectively When I sat next to you You told me stories that seems untrue
There once was a woman full of life and love. She still exists somewhere high above. During her trek through life itself, she fell ill; for a cure, doctors did delve.
I don’t re
Oh, grandmother With your white-white hair and your pale skin you protected from the sun Did you have any regrets? Were you thankful for the gift you were given? The gift to pass as white?
christ chose to lift her at this time, "To die is better than to live," is written in the Book of Life.
Grandmother lies there withering Writhing in pain The venomous blood Slithering through her veins   Doctors and nurses float in and out She never wavers Until she thinks I am gone
that horse of a fly
i have visited again  the place where i grew up i can taste the meals she makes and feel the love she gives us all the scent of freshly blossomed blooms fills the air around me.
your body is gone your heart is too this feels so wrong i miss you too  
My grandmother showered her fingerprints in the blueprints of my 18-year old life. On my first week of preschool, My cries of hysteria were of no match for her loyal ears,
I see my daddy in heaven, right next to gram, They see me, They know. I don't really see them. 
Everytime I walk into the room, I try to ignore the fact that she's in pain.
It slowly crawls behind a person  Like a shadow in the early stages of life The few who leave early  do not get consumed by something so divine 
Lie
As I saw your withered corpse, I refused to believe this lie
The sun glows. The winds blow. But it means nothing Without your love.   The times we spent Came and went. Like shooting stars From up above.   I wish I had
Graciously black Open winged butterfly Gliding through the sky Where do you go when you’re all alone? Is there a place you call home? You land here You land there Always on the go
Judy It’s been two years And time has flown A time for tears And now I’m grown   Empty inside
Grandma who gives hugs like a scratchy wool sweater and waves goodbye from the driveway who is warm cookies and salty chips             who is wire-rimmed glasses and a cold can of Pepsi
Oma
She was beautiful once. She was feisty once. She could ride a Harley, choke a stogie and found herself as a fine woman of the 50’s.
RIP 1921-2013 Though my body, broken and batteredHas long since faded away,My mind and soul and heartAre vivid and shall not decay. Though my bones may moan in protestOr my limbs cry out in pain,My spirit is as young as ever,For never shall I wane
Da
When my Great Grandmother was near death in the hospital I was curious to see what an old person's butt looks like, so I kept standing on my tippie toes to catch a see
The sun above me sings a lullaby, The rain mimics the tune, Roses dance, Glitter strikes from each and every beat,
A moment, stuck in the breath of a lost memory. It's cold and will not breath the same again. A heart is frozen, wrapped in born sadness of lost words.
  Wisdom is rugged. Time wound back to youth and time spent. The salt of cuts and cracks of skin, Dark with age and learned.
For the rainy days, Which made her flowers bloom. For the hugs she gave me, When I needed them most. For the years spent suffering, Before she passed away. For being the strongest woman,
One Day I will be gone And one day my grandchildren will be wandering around Being nosey like children usually are  And they will stumble across their Meemaw’s journal And being curious like children usually are
The ring glistened in the light above/ telling all just how to love/ once just meant for show and fashion/now presents this love and passion//  The woman owning this precious ring/ was quite big into helping/ a caring heart for all she sees/ an op
Why rid the earth of filth when the filth was you you took over in Germany when they had no idea what to do You led them to dismay, you took our rights away you told them that because we were different we were wrong
I sat there Unworried, stress free  Or in other words calm and collected about the whole situation Determined, expecting Looking past the affection Only concerned about our connection.
She lied hopelessly on the floor like a dead cat motionless with only the sound of heavy weezing. In utter shock it felt as if the world had just stopped but kept moving around me, nothing was affected down the street the same house wife would be
There is no sound. She’s sitting, lying in her bed, And she just stares at the ceiling. I speak to her, I tell her I love her And she squeezes my hand. There is no sound.
There is no sound. She’s sitting, lying in her bed, And she just stares at the ceiling. I speak to her, I tell her I love her And she squeezes my hand. There is no sound.
My grandmother told me of a place Where she played as a kid She never said how she found it But it’s gone now  
I watched my motherfrom under water. Therewas a perfume risingoff the morning sea.She sang slow andbreathed it all in. She watched my heartslowly softening.
I could feel myself start to change Becoming something that was deranged. My heart raced, even skipped a beat As I surrendered, admitting defeat   Here comes the pain And as it started, so did the rain
Can't decide between what's wrong or what's right Confused about what to do about everyone around me I have found true love from someone who cares Feeling trapped because of grief
Gazing into her eyes I wonder about the journeys she has embarked upon throughout the past 87 years of her life. Quiet, yet outspoken in the way she carries herself, she has proven to be a committed wife.
I was born with ash-filled lungs, and Mama kept some cigs in her panties. She made me a plain dress once— said it matched my face. I never could understand, why every whisper in town waft her name.
Maybe life goes on, even with you gone, Maybe this is how it's supposed to be. Like sunshine you'll follow me wherever I go Even through the fog and the cloudy days.
There is always a gloomy day where you wanna lay in the rain When you lose someone a part of you brakes away
You were far more than just my grandmother The stories you told kept me up all night You spoke to me like you were my mother I will remember you when I recite
We don't talk anymore we don't even see each other It's been forever There is still pain in my heart that you are gone I can't even call you It's been forever since I even heard your voice
Awoken. It was 3:11a.m. The girl stared off into the darkness. The dark hallway disappeared beyond the border. Ring. Ring. Ring The thought of worry twisted back into her mind.
Everything's changed But then again, it's still the same With the loss of a loved one There are wishes for it to be undone To be redone over again With one last chance to say goodbye
Listen to what I have to say, mommy. I have so many built up emotions inside of me.
I'm dangling on the rail of a hospital bed Clinging to you and the life you have left and Somewhere in between hushed breaths and the unnerving hum of the air mattress
Always there for you, Because you need them to. Cures all your tears, Drains all your fears. Even when time's are tough, Frequently you do more than enough. Goodness you are great,
I've got two guardian angels watching over me. One is named grandma and the other daddy. Both were loved so dearly and nothing brought them down. They were both so strong and lived their lives proud.
Above the Cork & Bottle In a warm, rustic flat Sits a frail woman With a clicking jaw and creaking bones, The latter from age, The former from cruel corrections. A cozy flat where
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