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wissem nehari Jan 2020
My grandmother told me once she knew a man,
With an ego, as tall as the oak tree in the back yard,
With teeth that shine brighter than the lord’s teeth,
And hands colder than mine,
His voice was never loud,
Instead, he spoke in soft whispers,
And warmth escaped his lips like smoke.
She said he brought her daylight in the midst of despair,
She’d hide in the shed and wait for him every night,
So she’d be able to hold a little light in her heart until the morning finally comes back again,
And then when the sun shines, she would forget about him until darkness appears again.
He never liked that, she said,
He was always angry about being the midnight man,
How she let the morning flirt with her,
Hold her hands and taste her warm flesh,
How she only liked him because he reminded her of her other lover,
My grandmother said that she never wanted to anger him,
For she needed the comfort of the light in the night,
She needed to escape the gloominess, and remember that there is always tomorrow,
But the midnight man was never her lover,
He was the reminder that tomorrow was only a blink away,
That another day is just around the corner,
She needed the little candles that he brought her,
But never liked that she needed him.
Today, i met the midnight man,
He held my hand and told me he knew exactly what i needed,
A little escape from the chaos inside my nights,
A little inspiration to write poems again,
Perhaps write about love again,
Yet i was never able to remember my grandmothers fairytales,
And i let him light a spark for me,
A little dim candle was all i needed to forget the world around me,
In that moment, I knew how much I needed the midnight man,
And every night, I snuck up to the shed, and I waited.
And just as the morning came,
It was like he was never there,
When the light came,
I just forgot how lonely darkness could get.
And so I took him for granted,
Until the day he just wasn’t there anymore.
Juniper Dec 2019
pliable paint on the old and cracked window frames of my house
what once must have been smooth and lisse
now aged and browned
the glass sending icicles onto the tip of my nose
breathing and fighting with warmth
while black cotton washes my vision
on the antique chair
on my porcelain skin, sinking into the silent softness
applied to the irises of my eyes to hide the icy blue from shining thru
as the clock ticks and my nail taps the rough surface
but after all this
salt stains on the face of your daughter and granddaughters will not keep the hurt from your bones
while you soar twirling in the clouds like a silken skirt
the sparkles of sadness mustn't twinkle in the corners of my eyes
why feel this sting when you are finally flying?
and when this all will come to pass
when I sit on the chair and pick at the paint on my window
i will remember that every candle is meant to be lit
to give light out and slowly burn for the rest of its life until the end
a candle which is never lit has never lived
and all lit candles must taper
but forever I will remember when your fire burned brightly
and will not grieve how your life gave out light until the very end.
with this. the room feels warmer.
the fireplace crackles.
Chris Saitta Nov 2019
My grandmother had forgotten everything but the ability to be good,
Innate courtliness sitting like a castle upon a moor.
Her world of insensate rains and fogs and heaths,
And still the hearth flickering from her lost eyes.
My grandmother whom I adored, to all the world,
Your goodness will go unnoticed into night,
Just as your eyes stared unknowing
Before the subsuming of tides,
While the world blasted through your bones,
Breath without force of inspiration.
Ksh Nov 2019
'La
First among many.
That was me, to you; the first from the last.
The last among many.
That was you, to me; the last from the rest.
Quite a nice position, wasn't it?

A woman of many talents,
of many stories that were too late told,
of hardships in silence buried.
A lifetime of rollercoasters,
of standing on a pedestal
and being struck to the ground,
heel to skull, teeth to pavement,
threatening to never let up.

Yet you did, and have not spoken of it since.

Do the words 'too little, too late' ring any bells?
Does the phrase 'less is more' still hold true?

In my mind, I see you in an ocean of darkness
Helpless, and friendless,
suffering in silence.
Yet, you're hardened by years of experience,
of hurt in the dark, of scars in the night.
You, an old dog,
and one of your oldest tricks --
licking your wounds in isolation,
willing the world to do its worst
as you weathered the storm,
one that you've already withstood before.

I can only describe you as an Inverse;
a woman who,
ignoring her own palms skinned to muscle, to bone,
built ramps and laid bridges
to give children enough space to run;
who, turning her back from a life of rejection and hate,
showered everyone with only gratitude, and love,
and everything that she knew she deserved but never received.

You, who brought words to life
in a language so deeply underappreciated,
have rendered the world speechless.
You, who have shown strength
in the face of adversity,
have rendered your blood weak.

A woman of contradictions,
contradictions of the best kind --
for even in death, we celebrate life.
To my late grandmother, who I wish I could have shown more appreciation to when she was still alive. I love you, lola. I wish with all my heart that you knew exactly how much.
Daniel Oct 2019
The din of winter is a window away
I've come here to stay at my Grandmother's
The bedroom aglow in her yellows and reds
The lamp by the bed

Beckoned by hands and a magical timbre
I'm starting towards her in answer,
recalling her manner
Her habits preserved as in amber

Sat by her side and embracing her then
I'm suddenly a child again,
her eighty-two years to my ten
A Blizzard Sep 2019
Speechless and frozen I sat as tears streamed down my face
The shock still hasn’t faded
Thirteen hour car ride to my favorite place
Only to not see you sitting in your chair by the fireplace

The shock still hasn’t faded
I’m laying in your bed
Surrounded by the smell of you
Swaddled in your blankets, my head is nestled where yours should have been tonight
I miss you every single day.
byron Johnson jr Sep 2019
Each ripple makes the visage fade. The muk that obstructed now whimsically decays. The browns and hues began to drift away. The picture becomes focused and now clarity remains. What I wouldn't give for one more day. To reach down and grab something. To look into my hands and see your affection, yet all I see Is pain. I can't follow you anymore. Now I only feel complete in the rain. Each drop falling down from brown clouds. In sets of twos and heavy with blues. All of your moments are passing away. All of them nome can stay. Just your teachings keep my company. Lessons to make me strong. Leading me to a future that I don't belong. I have to keep holding on, till the very last one is gone. I'll wear them on my heart and keep them strong. Memories and teachings are all I have now. I'll cherish them forever and wake them from the grave.
KR Aug 2019
You flew away before I was ready
My heart misses the flutter of your wings
My ears your sweet harmonies
Your memories are drowned in purple
I was your sunshine and now you are mine
Our beats syncopated
        I’ll meet your eyes in a different time
Philomena Jul 2019
I remember the emptiness in your eyes
Waiting for you to die
You never knew I turned out just like you
What a sick twisted game it is
I remember speaking to you softly
Watching you struggle to eat
And I remember telling you
"It's me, your grand-daughter"
Only for you to just stare in my face
I remember hours of cards in the waiting room
And the very last time I saw you
Tied to a bed
Lost in a dream you would never escape from
Fighting so hard
Ultimately to only give up
Almost two years
Shammyshamsham Jul 2019
And when I die little bird,
Don't be sad, don't weep.
For I loss all my sufferings,
Im happy now Im free!
What my grandma told me during her last moments.
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