#elders
If they let me,
I will lead,
I will carry this torch,
Through the storm and flood.
For if not for poetry,
I would be one with none,
This art is a language,
We must carry on.
Mar 7, 2025
Mar 7, 2025 at 9:44 PM UTC
Alone sits the tower's bell,
In the glow of lantern light.
Looking out at the town,
Silently gazing upon the night-fell streets.
Every day, the elders yearn to hear it ring again,
They want to hear the sound they know.
From their childhood, they remember,
What it was like to hear the bronze ring echo.
Yet, the children,
Don't have a chance to forget.
Jan 15, 2025
Jan 15, 2025 at 4:19 PM UTC
PLEASE LISTEN to your ELDERS,
For THEY KNOW WHAT IS BEST,
CLING ON to THEIR WORDS,
LET IT
MARINATE, and REST.
DON'T COP AN ATTITUDE, or
GIVE THEM ANY LIP,
(JUST PLEASE RESPECT YOUR ELDERS), and
(KEEP YOUR LIPS ZIPPED!!!)
They say:
(THERE AIN'T NOTHING NEW
UP UNDER THE SUN!!)
(THEY'VE BEEN THERE AND
DONE THAT), and
(YOU ARE JUST HAVING FUN!!)
SO, YOU BETTER BE CAREFUL,
COS, the GOING GETS TOUGH,
THEY SAY:
KARMA is a B**** and
IT WILL BITE YOU IN THE ****
OUR ELDERS KNOWS BEST,
THEY HAVE BEEN AROUND THE WAY,
CAN TELL YOU STORIES WAY BACK
UNTIL THIS VERY SINGLE DAY
I'M JUST BEING HONEST!!!
NO SHADE,
NO LIES,
BE RESPECTFUL,
NOT REGRETFUL,
OF THE WORDS OF THE WISE!!!!
B.R.
Date: 8/19/2024
Aug 20, 2024
Aug 20, 2024 at 1:33 PM UTC
It is time to call it quits.
It is time for you to go back to the West.
Throw in the towel on the Black Sea.
You, too.
The time has come.
Come together and act as a team.
I am not talking about religion here.
My voice contains a human element.
This is a gratuitous insult.
You and your nations are powerful, but you are helpless.
You have no authority over your belongings or yourself.
It is something I keep saying.
That is all there is to it.
Otherwise, everything is possible.
I swear by Allah, the Creator of All.
I swear by Allah, the Almighty.
One day, Gaza will feed you calabaza.
Oct 22, 2023
Oct 22, 2023 at 2:13 PM UTC
He went on and on about his childhood
About how he walked miles to school barefoot in snow
Oh how we chuckled to his many stories
Grandpa spoke about where he and grandma first met
He rambled about life
And how the news was so important to watch
How saving money was mandatory
And material things wasn’t
I remember the smell of his homemade biscuits
baking in the morning
Long before the rooster crowed
He attended his garden faithfully as if resting was a sin
Grandpa’s words were heard miles away
Even if he spoke in silence
As a child he didn’t have presents for Christmas
So he explained that we should be thankful
Even if nothing was wrapped with a bow and given as a gift
I remember as he sat in his recliner
And his gray hair shimmered under the lights
And how all of us kids would laugh when he and grandma argued
This year will be different
Now it’s our time to reminiscence about him
He has decided to finally rest
Because Grandpa won’t be here this Christmas
-LaToya Martin
Nov 29, 2020
Nov 29, 2020 at 4:49 PM UTC
Your heart is not old,
That I can guarantee.
The actions may not be as bold,
However, I can still see.
The love you give is pure.
Nothing in this world can compare.
In my eyes you will never be lost.
As long as I can still hold you.
Our conversations may repeat.
You always keep it upbeat.
The repetition will place a seat.
In my memories forever a treat.
Great and grand,
Are before your motherhood.
You've earned it in blessings,
And in honest hard work.
The wit and charm you give,
Will be well learned for us to live.
Lives happy and filled with laughter.
When we do, it shakes the rafters.
He will hear it soon,
For your heart he will swoon.
Then you will be gone,
We can only hope for a new dawn.
You are loved so completely.
I know I can only do my best,
Which you taught me.
So I return it to you for your care.
No more worries,
Don't have to hurry.
This is now a resting.
It is us he is testing.
Love you to the moon and back.
I will be fine with your watchful eye,
And gifts given to me.
So don't cry..
It's been such a pleasure,
Far more than one can measure.
One last hug and my heart tugs.
Just do not want a goodbye.
My heart says see you later instead.
I kiss your forehead.
Sweetly like you've shown.
Thank you, for making me grown.
Nov 28, 2020
Nov 28, 2020 at 3:16 PM UTC
I sit down near an old tree,
or what could be mistaken as such
a man was planted there like one at least
I gaze in his direction curiously
Looking for answers to questions not yet asked
the lines on his face draw attention
depicted tales
crooked trenches of battle
stubbled stories of history
lessons learned from repetitive struggle
yet
his soul peers out from behind his rugged vessel
revealing images of a hopeful spirit
a softer surface than the rock before me
a kinder presence hidden from all but the studious
though no words need be exchanged
enough had been spoken
I leave him alone in his stead
to continue burning his candle
I wondered afterwards, as I do so often
maybe that light has been shared with me
maybe the man is a reflection somehow
or a messanger of conscious direction
oh, if only one could learn so much from a glance
Imbibe in a moment what took another a lifetime
then all would be fine, all questions with answers found
and I would find peace in my peculiar state
Dec 1, 2019
Dec 1, 2019 at 6:53 PM UTC
Respect your elders I spit
Respect those who've lived and work decades before you I snarl
I show no respect to you
I show respect if you earn it
The entitled generation that is anything but vs the old generation who believe themselves better.
"Respect your elders!" The shout that answers my **** you"
I'll show respect when given.
Respect your elders, but only if they respect you
Nov 20, 2017
Nov 20, 2017 at 4:40 AM UTC
The chugs of the city train,
on collapsed lines, abused
by youth.
Rebelling against the generation,
their snobbish comments to deaf
ears,
wholesome, yet lost.
Views, taken, finally laid to rest,
let the new world take over.
It is coming.
Oct 28, 2017
Oct 28, 2017 at 8:43 PM UTC
I'm too young to be thinking
the good days are gone,
to feel lost in a crowd
of people my age.
I'm too young to want nothing
but a moment alone,
or to skip through the book,
not minding each page.
I'm too old to ask help
from kind souls who offer,
to crawl on all fours,
or to cry in my sleep.
I'm too old to be dreaming
of peace in my mind.
But no matter our age,
dreams are all we can keep.
Aug 8, 2017
Aug 8, 2017 at 10:18 PM UTC
The story of their life
is nearing the *** end,
The graph of the health
has a sharp descend.....
The world is rushing
it's own race,
Their lives don't flow
at that pace...
Possessing a rich and gorgeous
past to share,
But hardly find anyone
to give an ear.....
Chicks flew away
in pursuit of their quest,
The elder couple
is lonely in their nest....
Meditation, yoga
and the doctor's visits
Are prioritizing their
"to do" lists....
Waiting for festivals,
when kids pay visit.
Their childhood moments,
the minds revisit.....
Memories fading,
limbs poorly coordinating.
Hearts are weary,
heavy,
yet pulsating....
Unknown emptiness,
deep melancholy.
Splendid dwellings,
screaming loudly.....
Eagerly wait to meet
with other elderly,
To accompany on the walks,
and to talk heartily......
Relaxing and rejuvenating
laughter at the sunset.
The sun sets daily,
the hopes are alive yet...........
Jul 6, 2017
Jul 6, 2017 at 8:33 AM UTC
Dear Earth,...
Eighty seven times
Did you circle in your dance
With grandpa the golden sun
Many thousand times
Did you spin him round and round
And your dance keeps going on
...
But you dance so wild!
Ignoring that he is tired
And his uncountable pains...
Let him catch his breath!
Can’t you notice his bad cough?
...
Why being so rough?
Where’s the fun in that?
He is dizzy now!
Let him rest the night.
...
Why not dancing slow
Like most ladies love to do
And let him for once
Be the man he always was
Let him lead the waltz!
...
Why on purpose step
On his foot and let him limp
Loosing his balance
While you continue the dance?
...
Why the need to sing
Almost scream extremely loud
Making his ears ache
On the fringe to become deaf?
Why not hum along
While you dance to moonlight songs
Like most ladies do?
...
Why stealing the dance
With his wife during their song
But give her away
To some strange and lonely star
Quickly getting back
Not letting him do some talk
And mingle to share
Some of his dreams with others?
...
But you are selfish!
You will keep him for yourself
While we know that once you’re bored
You’ll do just the same
With him, like you’ve always done
With others and let him go
After he’s tired and soar
Let another star take him
And then once he’s gone
You’ll keep going on
Looking for more fun..
Dancing with others...
...
Please...
Slow down...!
May 2, 2017
May 2, 2017 at 12:42 PM UTC
Wise words implanted in human young,
"Behave yourselves, you're young!
No need for you to rebel,
Follow the rules we tell,
But who listens at any age?
Same as in Sumerian days!
"You young have no respect,
Boys look like girls, what the heck!
Your music is total trash,
Your verse is gibberish, ash,
Yes, 4000 years of rebels,
Who follow the rules we tell?
Apr 13, 2017
Apr 13, 2017 at 9:18 PM UTC
Oh little child.
Don't judge.
Show some respect.
For an old man who thought the war.
Fought for our freedom.
For someone who is openly gay.
Someone who does nothing but love.
Show some respect.
Don't judge.
Just because someone is not like you.
Show some respect.
Oh little child.
Help making this world a better place.
Aug 4, 2015
Aug 4, 2015 at 8:11 AM UTC
Words, thoughts, like chords;
Sewn, printed, onto paper.
Works, strewn, unwanted;
Taken to ground like ashes.
Owners forgotten, children;
Stained, broken, like old dolls.
Worn, exhausted, crippled;
All to become their elders.
Jan 25, 2015
Jan 25, 2015 at 3:56 AM UTC
We have a saying
Where I come from-
Always trust your elders words
Before your day is done.
And we have a saying
From where I was born-
Always trust the wisdom fire
Before your heart gets torn.
Then here comes the sun
And it brings all seeds to life,
The rain falls speaking to you
About wise winds at night.
And in the den
The cubs sleep sound and warm,
In the furs of the mother bear
Until the rain dries up in the morn.
So keep with you forever
The Mother Earth's kind love,
Although she can not stop her rains
Trust the Wise Winds up above.
Feb 18, 2015
Feb 18, 2015 at 12:13 PM UTC
My old great-aunt Elaine with her withered hands gave me $200 and beaded handbag
"This your mad money," she told me, as we sat on that nursing home couch, "And it ain't for your purse. This goes in your shirt, where only you know you got it."
The assisted-living nurse chuckled to herself. They got along, my great-aunt and her.
"Why?"
"Cuz if you get angry," she said, in that Marlboro-raspy voice of hers, "And you gotta go, you walk out on your date and you leave 'is *** And then you got your money for a strong drink. And your cab."
The nurse laughed
My aunt re-situated herself on the nursing home couch. Elaine Dauterive. Her mind was going, and so was her health, but she was as regal as a queen on her throne in that moment
her fire-red hair, ungrayed, was her crown
No cape as royal as that sleeping gown.
"Don't you think for once second I can't take care of you, honey," she said in that creole drawl, and I knew what she meant
Because even after she'd gone I would have that mad money
All stuffed in my bra for when I needed it
Because she was older than time, for me, seeing things like
The Great Depression, World War II
What I read in history books
I'd be ****** if I took what she said with even one grain of salt because Auntie-Lane, I'll be ****** if I don't love you
And I know you're on your way out and
I'll buy you whiskey in the afterlife with some of that $200 cash that you busted your *** scrounging up for me
Southern hospitality at its finest
And those liver spots redder than wine adorn you like badges of honor for all of the years you've endured
My elder - creole woman, with a soul as fire-red as her hair, breathing more smoke than air
My old dragon
On a pile of gold: her mad money
Nov 5, 2014
Nov 5, 2014 at 11:00 AM UTC