#aunt
It's right after I wrote your message
That I had to write this here
Please know I dont hightlight tragedy
But this page, is full of fear...
It's also full of a bunch of NEXT SH!T
To single out fear is but a guise!
one written so as to throw you off,
In hopes that you realize
That I write for more than just
Some cathartic sort of prize
It's a vehicle, A medium
unique as song and dance-
Like water color or oil paints
The rhythmic rhymes entrance
Apr 15, 2024
Apr 15, 2024 at 1:38 PM UTC
We’re on Fall break this week and Peter’s favorite aunt - Lita - is visiting. Lita’s a tall, slim woman (eek! A guess), in her early sixties. She’s nicely weathered and tan. I’m sure she once had Peter’s blue-black hair but now it’s mostly white and styled in a loose braid. I think she rocks the coastal grandma aesthetic with a wardrobe of mostly pale tans, whites and flats.
Peter has all kinds of stories about her - she’s a character. When Peter was 5, on Halloween, Lita pretended to sacrifice a chicken, cackling, like a witch. He was wide-eyed until she admitted she was just making fried chicken for dinner.
Lita lives on property adjacent to Peter’s parents, but hers is larger, more of a farm, where she raises chickens and grows Meyer-lemons and persimmons. This may explain why Peter slices up lemons, dips them in sugar and eats them like oranges (I shiver). Peter told me that Lita always liked fruit, which is why she bought Apple stock in 1997.
From what I’ve learned, talking to Lita, she practically raised Peter’s dad (David). Their parents had a boy before her, an older brother she doesn’t remember meeting because he drowned at a church outing when she was a toddler. Their parents, in their grief, had turned in on themselves, becoming as self-centered as gyroscopes.
They’d left Lita by herself for weeks at a time, to raise herself on a more-or-less trial-and-error basis. So, when David came along 13 years later, he became her responsibility. She started working as an auto mechanic and eventually opened a couple of shops of her own. She describes herself as more well-read than formally educated - as if knowledge had just settled on her, like dust from an old library.
“Teressa (Peter’s mom) is very curious about you,” Lita confides to me as we huddle together over venti pumpkin lattes, “Peter’s very tight-lipped where you’re concerned.”
“He is?” I ask, confused, “maybe he’s ashamed,” I venture, “or maybe he’s planning to dump me?” Lita looks amused, ”uh huh, that’s probably IT,” she agrees.
“Look! I say excitedly, pulling an envelope from my purse, “It’s my first-ever paycheck,” I beam. I make a production of opening the thing, like an Oscar envelope. “$223,” I read, shaking my head in admiration, then adding, with sincere sounding hyperbole, ”he can’t dump me NOW, I’m RICH!”
Oct 22, 2022
Oct 22, 2022 at 5:06 PM UTC
It's with great sadness when I say that we won't see her anymore.
Lena died in March of 2020 and she was born in March of 1944.
She is survived by her husband who is my Uncle James.
Losing such a special person is sad and it's also a shame.
James Greene Junior and Sharon Redmond are her two children.
After living for seven and a half decades, she has gone to Heaven.
She died just twenty-four hours before her 76th birthday.
Her loved ones are heart broken because she passed away.
Jul 11, 2020
Jul 11, 2020 at 8:16 AM UTC
You open the car door and help me in
You buckle my seat-belt, safe and sound,
As you set my tiny backpack on the ground,
You say:
What do you want to do today?
Go on an adventure-- just you and me?
Watch cartoons on the TV screen?
All that sounds grand,
Every kid’s dream,
But I’d rather take your hand and…
How ‘bout we color?
Then we painted the world as it ought to be:
Pretty pictures with princesses and queens.
Boatloads of crayons;
Everything exactly as it seemed.
I didn’t know loss.
I didn’t know heartache.
I didn’t know cancer would take you away.
I open the car door and hop right in
I buckle my seat-belt, safe and sound,
As I set my purse on the ground,
You say:
What do you want to do today?
Go on an adventure-- a shopping spree?
Watch funny movies on a big screen?
All that sounds grand,
Every young lady’s dream,
But I’d rather take your hand and…
How ‘bout we color?
Then we painted the world as it ought to be:
Pretty pictures with princesses and queens.
Boatloads of crayons;
Everything wasn’t as it seemed.
I learned about loss.
I learned about heartache.
I learned that cancer would take you away.
I wish I could’ve drawn you a cure,
Saved you the pain--
Whipped-up a world
Where it never rains.
I am your princess,
And you, my queen,
And everything is always
Exactly as it seems.
We wouldn't know loss.
We wouldn't know heartache.
We wouldn't know cancer--
Nothing would take you away.
And you would have forever to say:
What do you want to do today?
My answer would remain:
How ‘bout we color?
Feb 9, 2013
Feb 9, 2013 at 4:11 AM UTC
It’s been two years,
I remembered when I use to continuously Ask for you to come back to me,
But that was stupid.
You physically couldn’t.
Not even mentally.
Time stood still for me.
It still stands the same as I don’t ask for You to come back anymore
But I still yearn for you secretly when I’m Alone at night.
The full moon falls as my heart drops.
The night sky cries as I lie down quietly.
I remember when I used to not be able to write about you,
Because what is there to communicate to someone who won’t be able to hear my words.
My mouth. No words.
My lips. Won’t move.
But my tears will fall.
Although I don’t know why it does.
It’s been two years.
I guess still miss you.
Dec 13, 2019
Dec 13, 2019 at 1:07 PM UTC
Today would've been Arthenia's birthday if she hadn't died.
Last year, I lost my aunt and my uncle lost his bride.
Arthenia died in 2018 and she was born in 1955.
She'd be celebrating her birthday if she was alive.
Arthenia's life was saved when she had open heart surgery several years ago.
But if you're wondering if surgery could've saved her again, the answer is no.
Arthenia lost her life, sadly, it's true.
She left this world at the age of 62.
Nov 12, 2019
Nov 12, 2019 at 4:14 PM UTC
For My Aunt
The woman who is my mother’s sister is also my mom.
She has whooped me as well as helped me escape, and showed me to be calm.
She snuck me snacks; cookies, chips, and things like that.
Helped with homework, spoke up for me whether right or wrong
The love we share is beyond the measurement of strong.
I will keep our memories alive well after you are gone.
My auntie. My auntie.
I just want to say from me to you thank you for being my.
Auntie.
C. E Cheatham
Jun 15, 2019
Jun 15, 2019 at 4:17 PM UTC
I hope that even when you’re old and gray
You’ll remember how much your aunt loves you
And I hope that at the end of the day
You’ll remember each and every little kiss I placed on your forehead
So pure, so gentle
I give you more love than the world contains
Nov 11, 2018
Nov 11, 2018 at 12:41 AM UTC
I will never let you be cruel to yourself;
For you are the sunshine on my darkest of days,
And the sun can not shine without the confidence of knowing
It can light up the world.
Sep 13, 2018
Sep 13, 2018 at 11:02 PM UTC
At the age of 12 my aunt said
" No one is going to marry you if you stay this skinny."
She laughed as I felt ugly.
At the age of 13 my grandmother said
" Your teeth, they are not right you must fix it"
They nodded in agreement shooting me down with another bullet.
At the age of 14 my mother said
" Your skin is too dark, make it lighter"
She passed a ****** pack as I scrubbed my skin as hard as sandpaper.
At the age of 16, my great uncle said
" Your eyes are huge, go for a reduction surgery maybe?"
My heart sank as I rushed to save every dollar, every penny.
At the age of 17, I said to myself
" You are filthy, not worthy of a second look, not worthy of finding happiness, not worthy of getting married"
I realised my worth was decided, my abilities were limited and my future was cursed at the age of 12, very young indeed.
Jul 15, 2018
Jul 15, 2018 at 8:36 AM UTC
Aunt Kathleen died.
He'd known her since
he could remember.
He could picture her
carrying lino
on her shoulder
down the stairs
in the shop.
Or the time she let him
stay the weekend
after uncle Sidney died
and he went to some
religious meeting
up the West End.
Or when she met his mother
when she was going with him
for a brain scan
after the breakdown.
Or the day he went
with his mother
to uncle Sidney's funeral
and saw how broken up
aunt Kathleen was.
Now he was at her funeral
with family and friends
and he and his brother
sat at the back
amidst crying and weeping.
The coffin was on trestles.
Flowers on top.
Music played
and songs she liked
her daughter chose.
He gazed
at her surving sisters
except his mother
too ill to come.
Time had aged
them all now
sitting in the front row
each waiting
(unknowingly)
for their time to go.
Apr 24, 2018
Apr 24, 2018 at 4:51 AM UTC
Our beloved Aunt Bertha.
She didn’t see pixies and elves
She saw ********* and jerks
With no obvious perqs!
That's the breaks of being someone
That, all by themselves,
Can have arguments and fights
And even though it wasn’t right
That is who she was, unique;
Immune to other people’s pique,
Surrounded by unseen creeps.
But she loved us kids, she did.
And found us when we hid
And cooked cakes and pies.
The love in her eyes spoke clearly
And nearly bowled me over
Because it was not deluded.
Yes, her quirks intruded on us
But we let her cuss and rail
At invisible fools. Those the rules.
She couldn’t help herself a bit
And that was the end of it.
So, we listened covertly
And overtly smiled at her a lot
Knowing what we had got
Was the dotty aunt they put
In the attic in the old days
In less loving times and ways.
But we loved her and wanted
A place not haunted by wardens,
And nasty nurses robbing purses,
Where she could live her life.
She liked to sing and dance
And every time I got the chance
I danced with her, as thin as a zipper
I guided this middled aged aunt
And when she started to pant
We changed the music to slow
And right back she would go.
She sang the tunes from the war
And more from movies and shows.
Can anyone know how great it is
To share with someone impaired
And know the gift you have shared?
Apr 7, 2018
Apr 7, 2018 at 1:28 AM UTC
this got written x years ago
behoves this update version of a bozo
christened sans parents
playing eeny meeny miny moe,
yet upon tiring of game with a no
nonsense attitude
eventually decided on Not Nada Poe
Whit - Walt har vee gong to call So and So?
Now, you probably wonder and ask
yarself y am.i. On a wishy washy
web site - far tis to bask
in offline and/or online friendship
as like quaffing from a flask
with no deliberate intent
to antagonize nor mask
n e hidden agenda -
quite a challenging task.
Thus, i turn the question back 2 u,
per what spurred posting/responding too
and might there be interest
with me - n average hue
man male - hoping
4 an acquaintance brand new
from - this barred bard -
scot **** matthew.
Dis ***** older buck haint gonna take a byte
so...no need to take fright
i merrily scout cyber seas donning
me virtual webbed whirled wide wet suit to brook
a female friendship countless
adult oriented web site
such as ashleymadison, badoo, craigslist, elitemate,
plenty of fish tagged twoo,
or other venue left of the political right
and if absolutely positively unquestioningly
without subatomic particle of interest
than please just respond albeit and try to be polite...
good morning, noon, or night
quite
right
to be guarded when an acquaintanceship
begins out of sight
whereby data bit bump and grind
thru the information super
highway somewhat tight
and bring x rated epistles to life that i write.
Ma arch i bald dingbats of fingas clip by
at greased lightening speed
justa friendship this poor fella doth need
an accommodating gal to offer a lead
mien eyes did not purposely heed
nor any greed
from one suppurating marriage
this guy wants to be freed
with no malice this cheap tricking
super tramping wordsmith
of inxs ac of dc charged cheap tricks
sans done ***** deed.
This impersonator qua sometime bard of yore
admits to his apology
if ye get taken totally abominable
like bar rammy aback
to proposition ye with carnal desires in store
and ideally match deeds ease with these words
towards such strong desire to adore
forsooth that naked realm
to allow the noggin to bore
together in close syncopation like couplet core
and would now gently encourage
his newfound muse
to let me dip me quill in
iambic pentameter du jour
a wordsmith who shies away
drinking *** or smoking *****
Now with a zing
i step into the digital xing
via summit da fall low wing
written jest to byte tongue in cheek
yet unsure if zee phone here will ring
or an unexpected gold plated invitation
after the yodeling ding
in an effort to hear that pleasant
yet discordant musical ka -- ching
for cherished pennies,
nickels, dimes, nickle back
et cetera from heaven to bring.
Twiddling me fir and twenty black bird
shaped like a green thumb
as me schmart simian Semitic ****
gets comfortably numb
after quaffing
humongous amount of ***
while downing oral rob hurts
sesame street pudding
made of pureed plum
unlike jack in the corner
my luck mooch oh more glum
and despite ****** stubble here
and there a stale crumb
this har dabbler in words haint no ***
only a hard knock er skool alum.
from thee one and only almighty
alfred e. neuman king crusty crab crumb son Rodg
er alias scott matthews - whose words
intended as playful persiflage
if curious to learn more about me
emanating from cranial lodge
unless no auto mat tick interest arises -
whence this reply u can dodge.
Mar 20, 2018
Mar 20, 2018 at 9:28 PM UTC
She was 79 years old when she passed away.
She was my aunt and her name was Ina Mae.
When a relative passes away, it's always sad.
Ina Mae was the only blood aunt that I had.
She was special and she was Mom's only sister.
Many people loved her and many will miss her.
She was a wonderful lady and a loving mother.
She had a bond with her five kids who loved her.
She was a human being who can never be replaced.
She and mom are in Heaven which is a better place.
When she died in 2017, it was bleak.
Ina Mae was both special and unique.
Mar 17, 2018
Mar 17, 2018 at 2:31 PM UTC
the little face i see when i look down at my nephew
it is like he is my own
at least some days i wish
i could keep him
it seems only yesterday i was in the hospital a new aunt
holding him in my arms craddeling him
falling in love with him more and more every minute
that i still held him
he is now three
and it seems like time has flown scince the day he was born
he is my guardian angel
and i love him more than anything in the world
my nephew the one who taught me how to love at least one person in my life
Feb 26, 2018
Feb 26, 2018 at 2:19 PM UTC
little baby girl or boy
you already bring me so much joy
I can't wait for you to get here
I'm waiting patiently my dear
I'm anxious to see your smile
yet I still have to wait a while
I'm excited to see who you'll be
I hope you're a little like me
my sweet niece or nephew
what will you grow up to do?
I pray that you will be strong
and know that sometimes you will be wrong
understand I'll always be here for you
you can talk to me whenever you want to
I'll give you unconditional love
like the kind you receive from above
right now, you're just a little baby
from now on, I'll love you daily
your mom and dad
are bound to make you mad
just know I'll be here
a phone call away when I'm not near
you can call me Aunt Boo
if that's what you want to do
call me that and I'll do the same
I promise to give you a silly nickname
"oh, the places you'll go"
I'll see you soon mi sobrino
Feb 23, 2018
Feb 23, 2018 at 11:02 PM UTC
Living behind
the gates of no sight
my FATHER is.
Perhaps snapping away
with a spiritual camera- like eye.
as he knows I love and miss him.
Living behind
the gates of no sight
my AUNT is.
Perhaps sitting around a manifested table
laughing and enjoying the moment.
Living behind
the gates of no sight
my MOTHER is.
Perhaps feeling the ocean of love I send her
as I recall her mothering aspects.
Living behind
the gates of no sight
my HIGHER SELF is.
giving love and direction for me
who needs its guidance.
Jan 7, 2018
Jan 7, 2018 at 4:21 PM UTC
You hurt each other all the time
You fight, ignore, plague each other in rhyme
The first one is the oldest
She is burdened to succeed
She's withers away as life takes it's toll
Once a limelit life filled with opus
Now swallows her with greed
The pole stains more than just her soul
The second one is the baby
She cries out for attention
Everything will never be enough
Success in life she found the key
Her struggles she'd not mention
Weak inside but her exterior, tough
You cause each other pain and jade
For both your sakes I hope this will fade
Jan 5, 2018
Jan 5, 2018 at 3:26 PM UTC
you can't forget your family
no matter how hard you try
mirrors remind you you have your mothers face
hard times remind you like your father you never cry
keep it bottled up, don’t worry about the past
seeing relatives remind you “you’ve grown to fast”
my bloodline is a burden that i wouldn’t trade
even if this burden is all that weighed
Jan 5, 2018
Jan 5, 2018 at 12:28 AM UTC
My Aunt Hazel smokes so much
She watched the curtains burn red.
She looks and sounds like Patty and Selma.
A pitbulls bark for a swoon
That rises like the tide
At any who dare
To swing words like swords.
No smooth edges on Aunt Hazel
A dash of whisky might
Bring out the tiger within the lion.
A lion with oddly questionable views on hot-button topics,
spoken with irrational confidence.
A beautifully real caricature of an east coast mother.
So deeply entwined in the comfort of small town fallacy
And big time conspiracy theory.
Although, those two might go hand in hand.
But
She makes gowns for a living.
Her skin withered like an old catchers mitt.
Strong is the storm that knocks on the glass
But every crack in the wall always ends up filled by her hands.
The silent whales of watching your oldest boy
Thank you for everything
While he rips the tendons off his belly
That connected two forces from ever being apart
And wondering how she could bear it again
And again.
I envy the ease of such loving hate.
To wield venom
And dedicate your life
To helping love.
My Aunt Hazel smokes so much
You'd think she didn't know what love was.
And that if it were real
It must be at the end of a cigarette.
My Aunt Hazel smokes so much
She watched the curtains burn red
And smoked the pack through.
Jan 1, 2018
Jan 1, 2018 at 3:58 AM UTC
There she was... In the arms of my sister-in-law
Peaceful and quiet, oblivious to my flaws.
A daughter, a new born, a stranger to this world
Bright, lovely, and beautiful, even when she wiggled and curled.
I froze, I didn't dare to take a step closer to my niece
For her father was my brother, he trusted me the least
I feared him, I thought of him as a king, and I as his slave
My eyes surrender themselves to the ground, my hands folding to behave.
My ears awakened by the small bursting cry of hunger
My eyelids raised to get a quick glimpse of the little light, but every moment got harder.
I tried to ignore the small frail infant, but it's match of fire kept on trying to set flame to my charcoal heart
My brother's hawk eyes dashed to me, tightly swaddling his piece of art.
My shadow colored claws dug into my waist as my pupils refused to obey
My soul was peeling as he got up and insisted that I sat down, he knows I've been lead astray.
I shook my head, the prideful side of me afraid to hold the young one who knew no knowledge
Like a wipe, his finger in a flicker pointed to the seat again. I had a choice, to listen or jump off the edge.
My conscious gave up and was force to yield.
I saw my hands shaking, my wounds now unhealed
I sat in the gray leather chair, my sense devoured in one swallow
I raise my head, my fedora blocking the ceiling lights, my mind forced to follow
The instructions of him "Put your arms out." was his command
I did.... but like the speed of a bullet, my arms shot back, crying was in demand.
I feared him, I feared her, I feared them all. For I was a disgrace, a mockery of the them all.
For I knew I was so unworthy to receive such an opportunity after such a fall.
I shook my head, I could feel every bone trapped under my skin crack and snap with every breath I harshly inhaled.
Did I dare waste a moment like this? Do I wish to refuse this chance to hold something so pure. My selfishness had to bale.
I release my numb and limb arms out into the strange open air
I still had no desire to hold her, but what other opportunity would I have to be fair.
When She was gently set into my arms, I felt a bullet of instant regret, but then things calmed down as her reached out and touched me...
My tears ran down her light, soft, pink finger as she made a faint joyful sound of rest. My soul still didn't believe...
My eyes blinked motionlessly, starring into her darling little face.
I trembled, scared that I would be a failure once again to the young innocent trace.
But her little smile... It had... removed the tar from my beating ticker...
I embraced her closely, crying into her petal like chest that was covered in a blanket, my tears got thicker...
Within seconds, I whispered into her sensitive fragile ear
My wishes.... my dreams.... my pleas.... and my fears...
"Please...please love me... I might have been a failure to them... but please... don't make me a failure of you... help them to trust me again... help them to love me again... I am sorry....so so sorry... please... I know I'm selfish... so prideful... but please... embrace me... forgive me... I swear.... I am trying...I..i a..am....tr...tryi...trying..."
I Love You Lily... Thanks for Everything...
For through you... The Lord has unblinded me from my bright reality...
Oct 27, 2017
Oct 27, 2017 at 7:11 AM UTC