Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Max Neumann Dec 2019
they call me a half-caste
yet i'm a whole human being

my grandpa was a black slave
my grandmom a white writer

they came together
they stayed together
unwavering love

till they died:
first grandmom who was suffering from
a writer's block
ridiculously white paper she
couldn't cope...

after she had passed away
half an hour later grandpa
took his last breath pressing
his face
against her
stiff face

after a long and full life they
joined their ancestors in death

i was thirty-seven at this
time and their only heir
i received a letter containing their
will

a black sheet
one sentence white ink
and by the handwriting i could tell
they had written the will with
two hands and one pen

what do you think the sentence was
about?
this is a gueesing game and here's a hint: the sentence included the name "tizzop"

suggestions are welcome - simply write a comment...
MidnightOdyssey Sep 2019
“Take it easy” you said, with a smile of bountiful love.
Nothing affirms me more than the placid tap on my shoulder.
A tap that promised me the world is always full of wonder
If I dare to ponder.
Dandelions remind me of you.
Nothing on Earth could cease you from running towards to sunbeams.
You loved chasing for the sun with my small hands clasped in your secure promise.
And you were the sun to me,
For you have a spirit so bright that radiates,
I long to orbit around you.
We could roam free to Budapest!
With Blue Danube echoing through my head as we glory in a cup of beer.
So take in any forms as you like.
I never want to lose track of you,
Out of my sight, out of my mind.
Let the clouds caress you in a gentle whisper.
Let the morning dew smoothen your path.
Let the breeze carry you to nirvana.
Let the stars convoy you Home.
Let the snow reveal your footprints,
For nostalgia will trace yours.
Be free from
The monstrous thunder they stir,
The poisonous blabber they spit,
The ferocious terror they root.
Now rest on the soft soil.
Escalate as you go,
But please endure in my heart.
I'm standing in a small living room, dead center. My family and even some people I don't know, all proud Mexican people, stand around me.

I don't know why, but this memory is blurry and filled with static.

Some buzzing, angry voice cuts my ears. The sound a sharp, electric squeal. It hurts less as I get used to it, but I've been used to it. My ears tune the squeal and I know this sound. My uncle maybe. To be honest I can't remember.

My mind drifts off.

I blink in the light from the projector. Words flash across a sterile screen, something about an opioid overdose. First aid training presentation. I sit in a chair that's too small for me. My hips feel bruised.

Someone in class answers a question but I'm barely paying any mind. I can't stop thinking about drugs. I read the words in our follow along study guide earlier and now I can't get it out of my head...my head.

The hum turns into a low rumble.

I glance over to where it's coming from, the corner of a ****** apartment, the rumble creeps through the wall until it hits the sliding door to the balcony. Lightning bolt. I'm tripping acid somewhere I used to live.

I know I'm not there though. Just more flashbacks. Just more memories of things that feel good.

The phone rings.

I'm in my car, my cousin hesitates through the phone. My grandpa has cancer. I don't know how to feel because I've been avoiding him. I try to feign distress. Maybe make him think I'm not a terrible person for not knowing if I'm supposed to care…

I know I feel something. My stomach feels uneasy, like it always does. Except right now it feels uneasy like it usually doesn't. I tell him I need to hang up. I do. But it feels like a lie. I am self centered.

I am quiet.

The living room full of brown skin and brown eyes, red spit. They yell at me. My uncle's make fun of me for being ashamed of my skin. My last name is Montejano, but today my thirteen year old self has disowned my family. I'm tired of being called immigrant at school.

My cousins are solace, peace. I'm sure one of them told, but they pretend they care and some of them mean it. I am the bully in my family, I see them and I wonder if I even deserve my brown skin.

The memory sort of fades as I listen to the talking in front of me. Projector playing a slideshow. Things I should be writing, things I know. My right index finger is cut by a glass I'm washing in the sink.

The wound is large. I can see loose tissue while I wash it out. We find duct tape and some paper towels from the burgers we had last night.

I snort xanax. I'm outside.

Someone's playing guitar, I'm looking at the ceiling. It's just a memory but it feels so good.

My grandpa is in the driver's seat of a semi truck. We are passing a massive golden spire surrounded by trees. Somewhere near Maine or Virginia. As I try to remember the place we were, his face fades. His black hair is grey. And I don't remember it.

We're sleeping at a truck stop where he warns me not to open the doors at night. I don't sleep.

I step out of my dad's pick up truck a week later and it's the first time I experience perspective shifts, his truck isn't as big as my grandpas.

This is the first time I realise how small I am.

I'm pulling into a parking space as I get home from work. I can't remember how I got here.
A Simillacrum Aug 2019
Fold for life, unfold for death.
Conscience coming on strong.
What are your regrets?
These bones would be between my
fingers regardless.
All good fun in tow,
but now your ghost knows.
You had a show to live,
and yes you did.
I see my feet fall
within your prints.
All good to blame,
when I'm doing this.
mjad Jun 2019
Should I be worried about something?
I stood by the bed and everyone cried, I held his hand and felt nothing
Quite literally since my grandpa was dead
But also because there might be something wrong inside of my head
I observed the time and told the nurse who walked in the room
One week later he was in a tomb
More like a six foot box in a wall
Flowers and a name as a rememberance is all
We visit occasionally my parents and I
An empty flower vase greets us each time
I take one from Dorothy's box right next door
Her family doesn't visit her anymore
But her flowers are there everytime that we go
So I move them around, it's not like she knows
My mother cries and my father stands strong letting one or two tears hit the ground
But I stand there and read names of strangers all around
Leaving behind people like my parents who mourn and remember
And granddaughters like me who don't cry and whatever
My mom calls it being strong for the family and says I'm okay
I think she's in denial of my lack of display
But alas a tear fell in fourth grade
I recall, putting my cat down at such a young age
Made me realize that death is a gateway to nothing
But leaving behind family that struggles with living
So I just won't show it anymore I determined when we left the vet place
I walk right by death and I don't leave a trace
He could knock on my door and I'd take him by the hand
Show him the bed and where to stand
Just like I stood during my grandpa's last day
He can stare at me and wonder looking on
Is there something wrong with this human?
I find myself thinking that I know it all, but I still am left asking
Should I be worried about something? Is it okay to feel nothing?
i wrote another poem about his death but didn't know which was better so i just posted both
mjad Jun 2019
Is it wrong of me
To stare at my grandpa as he falls asleep
Eternally
And feel absolutely nothing
Except annoyance
At the reaction of my family
The messy tears that are rolling
I wonder why they cared so deeply
As if the world will end
With the exhalation of his last breathe
Knowing
That is not the case at all
The world will end
When we breathe our last
Individually
So I stare at my grandpa
Wondering if it is wrong of me
To feel better knowing
That it is not mine,
But his world ending
i wrote another poem about his death but didnt know which was better so i just posted both
Salmabanu Hatim Jun 2019
Who, who do I love,
One heart,
Many takers.
I am mum's world,
Dad's dream come true,
Granny's  heart of gold,
Grandpa's hero,
My sister's champion,
My uncles, my aunts, and my cousins, all love me too,
My best friend and even my friends want a piece of my heart,
Not to forget the old lady who lives across the street,
Even my neighbour's daughter,
But I already have a girlfriend
who wants my whole heart.
Who Who to give,
Who Who to share with,
Now, that's a dilemma.
Should it be you, you or you.
Grandpa came to the rescue,
Son, take a cup of tea,
Put as much sugar as you want in it,
The sugar will go on dissolving making the tea sweeter,
So take in all the love,
And part with the sweetness to everyone.
8/6/2019
Love is there to be shared.
Michelle Montoya Jun 2019
He'll Just Be Away

No matter bow hard I try,
No matter what they say.
I wont consider grandpa "dead." He'll just be away.

He's gone somewhere far away.
No one know just where,
But it"s somewhere beautiful up in the sky,
Where there's lots of love
to share.
I won't ever forget my grandpa, when i sit
down to pray, Cuz; "dead,"
He'll never be,
He'll just be away.
Cancer took all of my Grandparents very young. I wrote this particular poem for my Grandpa Hank. He was the strongest Man I ever knew.
Unknown Apr 2019
Grandpa, Such a brave man
It's so sad to have to say goodbye.
A tragic accident has happened.
And now we have to let you fly.

You always put others first
even in the midst of danger.
You were the hero all along,
Fighting fires at 19, So very young.

I know there wont be any fires,
up there in heaven.
Not whilst your around to protect them.

I  remember how you smiled,
You lit up the room.
We will never forget you,
Your memory wont be gone anytime soon.

And no, this is not goodbye,
This is till we meet again.
When it is our time to fly,
We will meet once again.
My grandpa was in a accident, he was helping my uncle salvage a part from a car he was using the oxy when the car exploded on top of him, my uncle bravely pulled him out suffering burns himself... my grandpa had 90% burns on his body...sadly he did not make it and passed away at 11:55am on 21.4.19
nd Apr 2019
when I was still a younger me, let's talk when i was 19 or 20

heartache can be caused by losing a boyfriend

you know the pain right?
you know how hurt the pain is, right?

when I turned 21
the same kind of heartache still there
different man, different story, same heartache

still when I was 21
it happened on August 2018

I lost my grandpa, he passed away

heart attack, they said

it was hurt so bad and i can barely breathe
it felt hurt, but different kind of heartache.

-

then October 2018,
same thing, different person, happened

I lost my best friend on a plane crashed

it was terribly hurt

it felt hurt, but another different kind of heartache

-

and after that,

losing a living human is nothing but a pinch on my cheek.
if they're still alive, then you're not losing them.
Next page