Poetry competition CLOSED 6th March 2015 9:50pm
WINNER
Anonymous
Anonymous
RUNNERS-UP:
blueeyes415263
and LobodeSanPedro
Missing Them
Poetry Contest Description
tell me why you miss your grandparents
I'm missing my grandma a lot today and am lost in nostalgic memories. Write about your grandma or grandpa or both, mere memories of them and / or about how you miss them. Pictures would be most welcome as well.
Anything you want to post is fine, there are no rules. All the talented writers at DUP step up!
Also, I was thinking about bringing in some judges. If anyone wants to judge just pm me. Thanks.
Anything you want to post is fine, there are no rules. All the talented writers at DUP step up!
Also, I was thinking about bringing in some judges. If anyone wants to judge just pm me. Thanks.
http://deepundergroundpoetry.com/images/uploads/poemimages/195879.jpg
Starting it off...
Chocolate-covered Cherries
for Grandma
I buy the cheap kind, Queen Anne, a thin
coating of chocolate housing gooey, white
centers. Your pantry always stocked
with at least two boxes, cardboard
smelling of cigarettes.
Once you slapped my hand for watching
a sex education show, the TV framed by
china shoes without feet or mates. You
loved the child in me, long blond hair,
smiling-open face. But when I was older
I became you, raven-haired, solemn-eyed,
all Bettie Page bangs and flesh-colored
nylons. Though we smoked and conspired
together, your twigs of cigars made me cough.
"Grow your hair long and golden again,"
you'd scold, and somewhere, softly,
I hated you for it.
Now my brow creases as yours did, sisters
in melancholia, the ashtray overflowing
with butts, those gray snowflakes like
dancing motes. I uncover my treasure, peel
back the scrim of cellophane from two
flimsy plastic crates. When that first gush
of white-oozing sweetness melts over
my tongue, a lone tear slides down
like the Crying Indian on TV, the one
with the haunting face, who came between
M.A.S.H. and The Love Boat,
mourning all that waste.
Starting it off...
Chocolate-covered Cherries
for Grandma
I buy the cheap kind, Queen Anne, a thin
coating of chocolate housing gooey, white
centers. Your pantry always stocked
with at least two boxes, cardboard
smelling of cigarettes.
Once you slapped my hand for watching
a sex education show, the TV framed by
china shoes without feet or mates. You
loved the child in me, long blond hair,
smiling-open face. But when I was older
I became you, raven-haired, solemn-eyed,
all Bettie Page bangs and flesh-colored
nylons. Though we smoked and conspired
together, your twigs of cigars made me cough.
"Grow your hair long and golden again,"
you'd scold, and somewhere, softly,
I hated you for it.
Now my brow creases as yours did, sisters
in melancholia, the ashtray overflowing
with butts, those gray snowflakes like
dancing motes. I uncover my treasure, peel
back the scrim of cellophane from two
flimsy plastic crates. When that first gush
of white-oozing sweetness melts over
my tongue, a lone tear slides down
like the Crying Indian on TV, the one
with the haunting face, who came between
M.A.S.H. and The Love Boat,
mourning all that waste.
Bitter Sweet She Is Still To Me...
Black and whites, caged within oval cedar frames...
Hang on newly painted walls, of a home you've never been...
How even the silence, brings back such overwhelming oceans...
Salted tears, trickle down cheeks in same comparison as yours...
A carbon copy of you, they say I am...
I stare into the mirror, I see pieces of your smile when I can not...
The same colored eyes haunt my vision, you took my smile too soon...
More than just a kindred soul, my rock when broken and torn...
Your breathe taken before your time, I still gasp for mine...
I carry all your history, inside my womb of life...
But none can fill the void that I have come to be...
Only by the piece of my soul once shattered...
Can be mended by your hands will I be at peace...
By: RFuller 3/3/15
Anonymous
Reeng 'Ronda rozee
Grandmaw wuzza drunk.
She useta skreem obsceniteez att us.
Grandpaw helped her uhlott.
He gave her da poizun awl duh tyme.
Awl dat sheet phucked upp mai muhther.
Tanks alott fer passin' dat sheet tew mee.
Whutta gift.
Eye fyte itt evrydai uv mai lyfe.
Dey r ferevher inn mai memoreez.
Dey shoulda gott help.
Lyke rehab.
Ore gawn tew da enayblerrz kollige.
Phuckerz.
Grandmaw wuzza drunk.
She useta skreem obsceniteez att us.
Grandpaw helped her uhlott.
He gave her da poizun awl duh tyme.
Awl dat sheet phucked upp mai muhther.
Tanks alott fer passin' dat sheet tew mee.
Whutta gift.
Eye fyte itt evrydai uv mai lyfe.
Dey r ferevher inn mai memoreez.
Dey shoulda gott help.
Lyke rehab.
Ore gawn tew da enayblerrz kollige.
Phuckerz.
The Grandma Affect
In particular I miss the rules you set for us,
the ones we frowned upon but we understood.
Quizzes after every good book kept us sharp,
twisted tales about kids becoming dreamers
instilled deep in my mind are the days of your smile,
when speed described your witty tongue in detail.
Wired for respect with a woman's loop for truth,
flowing hair Samson would have been jealous of
and the strength Hercules would have admired.
Your knowledge transcends anything I could write,
your voice like a voltage striking down any excuses,
what is the color of love? In blue times you shined,
no matter the circumstances you built our self-esteem
now I can't imagine you not being part of my world.
How long has it been since I've hugged a queen?
Five months of torture, seems more like centuries,
without you I'm at the bottom, you grabbed me from
the bottom of these scandalous streets, now I breathe.
Let me transmit to the world, I love your soul!
If heaven is real, you are the sender.
Notice, I'm in full collapse without your guidance,
the phone getting ready to ring at your residence,
let me tell you dear madam what you mean to me. Grateful.
In particular I miss the rules you set for us,
the ones we frowned upon but we understood.
Quizzes after every good book kept us sharp,
twisted tales about kids becoming dreamers
instilled deep in my mind are the days of your smile,
when speed described your witty tongue in detail.
Wired for respect with a woman's loop for truth,
flowing hair Samson would have been jealous of
and the strength Hercules would have admired.
Your knowledge transcends anything I could write,
your voice like a voltage striking down any excuses,
what is the color of love? In blue times you shined,
no matter the circumstances you built our self-esteem
now I can't imagine you not being part of my world.
How long has it been since I've hugged a queen?
Five months of torture, seems more like centuries,
without you I'm at the bottom, you grabbed me from
the bottom of these scandalous streets, now I breathe.
Let me transmit to the world, I love your soul!
If heaven is real, you are the sender.
Notice, I'm in full collapse without your guidance,
the phone getting ready to ring at your residence,
let me tell you dear madam what you mean to me. Grateful.
His Dew (O'er Grass)
~ Lessons from the Gullah Isles ~
The susurrations of His morning call
reflected in the morn as algid mist
In this ritual I love to watch dragonflies chase sleepless fireflies who wanted to be butterflies
My feet bare, as were hers
I mirrored my grandmother's steps as we crossed the peacock and teal tapestry
My feet became bathed by Him as He had done for Peter
An asomatous cleansing that started with our soles
I often wonder why they're called blades?
They should be called feathers
or wings, for my heart takes flight with each crystalized step
At the coup the symphony is predictable yet always delightful
Scratches and pecks
Scratches and pecks
And then I watch dragonflies chase sleepless fireflies who wanted to be butterflies o'er grass
~ Lessons from the Gullah Isles ~
The susurrations of His morning call
reflected in the morn as algid mist
In this ritual I love to watch dragonflies chase sleepless fireflies who wanted to be butterflies
My feet bare, as were hers
I mirrored my grandmother's steps as we crossed the peacock and teal tapestry
My feet became bathed by Him as He had done for Peter
An asomatous cleansing that started with our soles
I often wonder why they're called blades?
They should be called feathers
or wings, for my heart takes flight with each crystalized step
At the coup the symphony is predictable yet always delightful
Scratches and pecks
Scratches and pecks
And then I watch dragonflies chase sleepless fireflies who wanted to be butterflies o'er grass
Evelina (1976)
I am everything she prayed
I wouldn't be
Couldn't be
Because of promises made by her
to her Lord
I always felt she was going to her knees
just for me
Last thing in the evenin'
First thing before the cock crow
Yet
I stole from her
I'd sneak in her purse to take a few of her cigarettes
Blowing circles that my stick limbs
Could hula hoop with
I'd sneak in her frig and steal a beer or two
Trying to numb the wails of a boy
So I might be a man in her eyes
Stole her homemade wine at night
Playing cards in her kitchen with the cousins
Her threatening the switch if we made her get up
Yes M'am
We sang in chorus
And then kept drinkin'
When my father died
I needed to steal her dignity
Her grace
Her faith
And like everything else
My grandmother let me have them
Praying I would become
Everything I am not
I am everything she prayed
I wouldn't be
Couldn't be
Because of promises made by her
to her Lord
I always felt she was going to her knees
just for me
Last thing in the evenin'
First thing before the cock crow
Yet
I stole from her
I'd sneak in her purse to take a few of her cigarettes
Blowing circles that my stick limbs
Could hula hoop with
I'd sneak in her frig and steal a beer or two
Trying to numb the wails of a boy
So I might be a man in her eyes
Stole her homemade wine at night
Playing cards in her kitchen with the cousins
Her threatening the switch if we made her get up
Yes M'am
We sang in chorus
And then kept drinkin'
When my father died
I needed to steal her dignity
Her grace
Her faith
And like everything else
My grandmother let me have them
Praying I would become
Everything I am not
Anonymous
http://i1303.photobucket.com/albums/ag151/minerva4243/10703625_10152842495269793_6336701834659238880_n_zpsgxz3cyac.jpg
his voice
in my head,
there is always music
even when i want
the desperate quiet.
it’s your fault
and that is okay
standing in that pink kitchen
drying dishes
singing hymns
scheming how to get the next
root beer float
and suddenly
the little woman and i
are joined by
you
you take up the whole
room without saying
a word
pushing different love
at different people
and making hearts heal
our duet suddenly becomes
a trio and that tenor
(oh for one more glimpse of that tenor)
has the power to move
people
that voice was placed in that throat
with those dinner plate hands
to speak truth
to sing love
to tell stories to awe struck grandchildren
people all over the country
treat me with respect
when i say i’m of your
blood
and they talk about you
singing
always singing
they say someone’s voice is the
first thing you forget
when someone is parted from you
i don’t believe that
i will not believe that
his voice
in my head,
there is always music
even when i want
the desperate quiet.
it’s your fault
and that is okay
standing in that pink kitchen
drying dishes
singing hymns
scheming how to get the next
root beer float
and suddenly
the little woman and i
are joined by
you
you take up the whole
room without saying
a word
pushing different love
at different people
and making hearts heal
our duet suddenly becomes
a trio and that tenor
(oh for one more glimpse of that tenor)
has the power to move
people
that voice was placed in that throat
with those dinner plate hands
to speak truth
to sing love
to tell stories to awe struck grandchildren
people all over the country
treat me with respect
when i say i’m of your
blood
and they talk about you
singing
always singing
they say someone’s voice is the
first thing you forget
when someone is parted from you
i don’t believe that
i will not believe that
Anonymous
Pa's and Ma's
My grandmother is the only grandparent,
that I ever knew
The other ma had died of symptoms
that seemed something more like flu
The first Pa died after drinking
and fell down stairs in SF, at the Grand,
The second Pa lived so far away and did not visit,
it felt like he may have been banned.
His ex wife, my loving Grandma
I remember her visits when I was quite young.
A tall slender women whose long slender fingers
played lovely notes on piano and sung
She smoked and she drank
But she was still classy
I remember her scold
If I would get sassy
she spoke of me and clairvoyance
of this I did not understand
I love to hear her stories
In the 20's when times were grand
Then in my teens
she had a stroke
then frayed body
her spirit was broke
I'd try visit her
from time to time
In assisted living,
that smelled of dying
At times I still feel her presence
When I get that de'ja Vue,
Because one way or another,just like my mother
It is like we already knew
My grandmother is the only grandparent,
that I ever knew
The other ma had died of symptoms
that seemed something more like flu
The first Pa died after drinking
and fell down stairs in SF, at the Grand,
The second Pa lived so far away and did not visit,
it felt like he may have been banned.
His ex wife, my loving Grandma
I remember her visits when I was quite young.
A tall slender women whose long slender fingers
played lovely notes on piano and sung
She smoked and she drank
But she was still classy
I remember her scold
If I would get sassy
she spoke of me and clairvoyance
of this I did not understand
I love to hear her stories
In the 20's when times were grand
Then in my teens
she had a stroke
then frayed body
her spirit was broke
I'd try visit her
from time to time
In assisted living,
that smelled of dying
At times I still feel her presence
When I get that de'ja Vue,
Because one way or another,just like my mother
It is like we already knew
Okay, I decided to edit what I said first, because the way I explained my justification towards the winners I realized could cause hurt feelings, and I do not want to have this happen. Everyone's entries were beautiful and evocative, and very thoughtfully written. Congratulations to Minerva, LSP, and blueeyes415263. All who entered, I enjoyed your poems, and thanks so much for participating. Hope to see you again next contest(s).
Anonymous
oh goodness! thanks so much, toni! all the entries were sooooo stinking good. i'm glad i didn't have to judge this one. congrats to LSP and blueeyes415263!
I really enjoyed this competition Toni ... Your writing challenges always inspire me to journey to forgotten parts of my life and heritage, so truly Thank You.
TWO IN A ROW! ... YOU GO GODDESS! ... loved the tone of your piece, and your right the sound those voices are never forgotten.
Blueeyes ... Wonderful ode ... It's amazing how we miss our grandmother's touch and counsel.
Salud
TWO IN A ROW! ... YOU GO GODDESS! ... loved the tone of your piece, and your right the sound those voices are never forgotten.
Blueeyes ... Wonderful ode ... It's amazing how we miss our grandmother's touch and counsel.
Salud
