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A Blizzard Sep 18
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.
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 13
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 9
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
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.
Carmen Jane Jul 1
Sometimes you need to move,
To gather all your  things.
You don't have anything to prove,
You should just cut your strings.

Start anew, in an empty room,
Unpack only what you care for
Unpack your faith, and you will bloom
You'll step boldly, on your new  floor.

Light up the gray with sunshine accents,
Layer it  with a bright cotton  throw,
There's no better found relaxants,
When you acquire a  houseplant to grow!

Your mom's handmade kerchief
You should put it on display
And  your own smile will be  enough,
To add to the brightness of day!

Written in tremor, your grandmother's prayer,
That you've kept it in a  forgotten book
The corner of your poem now sheds a tear
Lay it in a frame now, in your nook.

Don't forget, about pen and paper,
To have it at hand,whenever you need
Otherwise, your thoughts might just vapor
One day your pen, jewels, will bleed!

From outside, gather some branches,
Behold their beautiful imperfections!
From now, consider all your chances,
Embrace your memories, your soul's collections!
shamamama Jun 4
ludicrous without the laughter
this
Absurdity

sun baking villages of wild flowers for dead bees
bare earth torn to discover luminous oil
what are we doing?
why are we here?

why are the floods pouring from the sky?
Extraordinary tears
from lives spent
no more
to be seen again?

summer mountains
getting covered with winter snow
why are the polar bears
floating on glacial ice away from their livelihood
Why are the seasons changing,
from spring into winter
and from summer into the unknown
why are the whales swimming
to the shore?

Did we rewrite the wheel of time?
did we change the drumming of the drummer
without asking why?

The cotton clouds above me
silently scream as they stream
into the empty sunset
in the darkness of my mind

I have heard to act like we are
walking on our grandmother's face
when we take a walk on our earth,
What would grandmother say
if she were here today?

Stop!  See
the basil buzzing with a bee
Listen,
let your eyes
fill with the light of hope,
feel it,
and
let
this
gold
ray
touch
the
sun
in
your
mind
to
illuminate your landscape....

...I remember,
I remember why we are here
and what we are doing

don't let
someone else's
thoughts and actions
tear your earth apart

let the earth sneeze
let the bees breeze
let the sunshine awaken
let the dry rocks get covered with river clouds
let the tears fall,
touch and listen to grandmother

if the old footprints on her face
do not say I love you,
how can this next step say
I love you?
I have difficulty understanding life--how the past darkens what is here now and the future. I write to move through this "not understanding" and to shed rays of light into my mind to chase away the darkness, reveal the jewels of hope.
I don't think I'll ever get accustomed  
to seeing your lifeless corpse
every nerve screams for me
to shake that frail frame

For a moment
I let myself
envision your eyes opening
and smiling up at me
but they remain closed
and all I can do is watch
myself fall to pieces.
Esther L. Krenzin
Roguesong
For my great-grandmother.
I saw the birds this morning
and couldn't help
but feel your presence
and I don't think I was alone
shoulders curving inward
our starving gazes devoured
all the fragments you
left behind.

Esther L. Krenzin
Roguesong
For my great grandmother.
annh May 26
Her thoughts, gathered on the in-breath, are misplaced on the out-.

As her memories float free of their moorings, ninety summers fill the late-afternoon room with a kaleidoscope of people and places: a young girl in a home-made dress plays tag with her brother in a Provençal orchard; a dark-haired teenager waits at a station fiddling with the yellow star pinned to her cardigan; a Milanese tailor embroiders freshwater pearls onto a snow white wedding bodice; and - over by the window - a dashing young cavalry officer, with eyes which reflect my own, stands in the shade of a blue jacaranda.

‘J'ai oublié,’ she whispers as I nuzzle her cheek goodbye.

You may have forgotten, Bubbe, but I have not the stories you have told me.

‘We are a kaleidoscope of complicated intricacies. A million different facets of light and darkness.’
- K. M. Keeton
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