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galen treger Mar 2010
is it faith or is it life?
is the humanization of god in correlation with my loved ones who watch over me?
is it weird that i believe nanny and poppy and grandpop watch over me but i cant grasp the conceptualization of god?
maybe because it is confirmed that they are concrete beings whom i loved, and loved me.
is that a different believed concept?
when something is bad that is reality.
when something is good, someone is watching out for me.
it is said that god watches over us, protects us, forgives us, and comforts us.
that is what our parents do. and they are concrete beings.
that is also what i have always believed nanny to do.
i always think she is with me. poppy and grandpop too.
like the guy at subway with the stamp
that was poppy.
he always had random little things when anyone needed them.
like pocket tissues in his back pocket or lifesaver breath mints in his shirt pocket, next to a pen.
or when things work out in really good timing. irony.
when i need to be strong, honest, and self abiding,
thats grandpop.
he taught me to be strong willed and that life is what you make it
and all of the things on this earth that are beautiful,
is nanny.
every bit of warmth i feel on my body from the sun
every breeze that doesn’t give me a chill
every perfect summer night with every perfect summer sky
every sip of red wine and every handful of m&ms;
all of these people raised my mom.
so she is here. in their form.
carrying on their traditions and their ways
that must be the circle of life.
Becca Jun 2013
My Grandpop's box has a word in bronze
Nailed into the lid
Of smooth plastic - fingerprints
On the box where the past is hid.

What cloistered things
What daring lives in the passage of the years
Lie dusted, browned, rimed with rust,
Blotted of fargone tears?
Charlie Chirico Jan 2013
The room: never aired out.
Smoke hung high, creating its own atmosphere.

Pun intended.

Box of cigars sitting on the coffee table, always within reach.
Glass ashtray to smother your butts, when a forearm wasn't intended.
Burning flesh, each circle telling its own story of a mistake.

That's why I prefer long sleeves.
They hide my stories
about Grandfather's house.
Mike Hauser Oct 2013
That's it I've had it
Tired of being ignored with a wink on the side
I'm tired of being told what old men should do
Going to start taking life on the flea..or is that the fly

I'm going to hit the streets of the city
And be known as that cool guy that raps
After I add a tad bit more Poligrip
So my dentures can get down with that

I'll get me a ball cap and turn it sideways
My pants already hang down past my crack
I'll even learn the latest catch phrase
Like, Hey dude..what's up wit dat?!

Think I'll even rhinestone my walker
For that little extra bling, bling
They'll say check out that crazy rapper daddy-o
Man that cat can really swing

I'll keep the lyrics clean like I do my diaper
That's why I bring my nursie with me
After all she's a wonderful wiper
Don't worry I pay the extra wiping fee

I'll also get her to hold up the cue cards
Since my memory over the years has waned
No longer to be known as that old white *******
Beating JZ at his own game

I'll get jiggy with it every chance I get
As I fizizzile my way to the top
I'll be bigger than that guy with the candy name
That young whipper snapper will melt in the hands of this rapping GrandPop
Memories will fade
Hair turns gray, flesh into ash
'tis oblivion


------------------------
/dear reader, please whisper a prayer for my grandpop. Ty/
Mike Hauser Mar 2016
That's it I've had it
Tired of being ignored with a wink on the side
I'm tired of being told what old men should do
Going to start taking life on the flea..or is that the fly

I'm going to hit the streets of the city
And be known as that cool guy that raps
After I add a tad bit more Poligrip
So my dentures can get down with that

I'll get me a ball cap and turn it sideways
My pants already hang down past my crack
I'll even learn the latest catch phrase
Like, Hey dude..what's up wit dat?!

Think I'll even rhinestone my walker
For that little extra bling, bling
They'll say check out that crazy rapper daddy-o
Man that cat can really swing

I'll keep the lyrics clean like I do my diaper
That's why I bring my nursie with me
After all she's a wonderful wiper
Don't worry I pay the extra wiping fee

I'll also get her to hold up the cue cards
Since my memory over the years has waned
No longer to be known as that old white *******
Beating JZ at his own game

I'll get jiggy with it every chance I get
As I fizizzile my way to the top
I'll be bigger than that guy with the candy name
That young whipper snapper will melt in the hands of this rapping GrandPop
Spoiled centerpiece at table's edge
red apples turned a dull brown
grapes withered and wrinkled
like the hand that lay motionless
sprinkled with drywall dust
tv screams in neutral static
the only surviving kitten suckles it's lifeless mother's ****** in vain
the burning corn fields crackle and snap
the skies turn a smokey haze
before the Sun disappears on schedule
somewhere along the road
Grandpop and Joe are in the truck
with melted ice cream
they were bringing back from town
Sometimes Starr Mar 2018
It came from an accident.

From two people who met, loved, and sputtered out.

It came from adoption. From a family in the suburbs around Philadelphia.

And it came from Nowhere, as my brain put out feelers around her
and learned she was real.

It came from Fantasia-- from classical dinosaurs, and from Mickey Mouse with little dancing brooms, and from a line that vibrated with the music.

It came from Love, a word I learned.

It came from feeling like the weird kid in school.

It came from chorus, learning trumpet, and Boy Scouts.

From losing young friends and Sugar We're Going down coming on mtv2.

It came from nooks and crannies and trinkets from my life I am sweeping by and not mentioning.

It came from confusing therapy appointments and being told to take medication.

It came from my first guitar at age thirteen.

From losing control and breaking everything in my house and going to a mental health clinic. From cutting myself because I don't know, other people did it and I'm sad.

It came from puppy love with this cute girl who was pretty averse to me at first. And from sneaking over her house when no one was home.

And it came from identifying myself as a poet, songwriter, a kawaii emo kid who could hang with anyone (but maybe not some of the popular kids).

It came from being arrested for trespassing on accident, not believed, and then put on probation. It came from sleeping in past the bus and then being sent to juvenile hall for truancy. It came from a burning hatred for authority that hurt my life for no reason.

It came from feeling mishandled by my parents but also whiny and unable to stop whining.

It came from Latin class and AP English and Music Theory classes, and my high school sweetheart who is forever my personal Goddess of Music. But I don't think about her much anymore.

It came from feeling self-conscious about being a slow reader.

It came from seeing myself as an intellectual, and from being watched all the time by the government.

It came from starting to realize my brain gets depressed, grandiose, understands the world through fixations, and is sort of a lopsided brain.

It came from high school antics, starting to smoke ****, and becoming interested in the truth about drugs.

It came from starting to realize I was way too invested in these girls, and wow I really let myself become a **** sometimes.

It came from going away to college in the middle of Pennsylvania.

It came from an interest in psychedelics and probably overdoing it a bit and an incident where I hit my head that really had me spinning for a while.

It came from dropping out of Bloomsburg.

It came from starting to feel like I should know what I'm doing by now and for the first time, feeling like an adult lost in the world.

It came from going back to school and meeting a cute older girl who was Scandinavian and new and exciting.

It came from living like a rock star in a college town, delivering food and going where the **** I wanted when I wanted.

It came from my last time losing my **** over this girl. From realizing I am in control of how I react, and finally developing a callus.

It came from a very bipolar drive to Miami and back to Pennsylvania without looking into any new places like I planned.

It came from having to live back home with my bad memories. From an uncharacteristic DUI and banging my head in the cop car until it bled.

It came from getting another DUI for **** because my headlight was out and I got pulled over, but I was driving perfectly.

It came from having to be involved with the law again, and being depressed about that girl, cutting myself and admitting myself to the mental clinic.

It came from my parents really getting on my nerves, and it's not just me.

It came from losing my temper and breaking the TV and my dad's windshield with a baseball bat.

It came from not being allowed back home after admitting myself to the mental clinic again, from being set up with a room in the next town only to have it be destroyed by strangers and kicked out.

It came from living with a new friend, partying all the time, selling **** for money, and living in hotels.

It came from having to get away from all that and working hard as a landscaper. From patching things up and moving back home.

It came from losing probably my tenth job because I didn't show up, and getting depressed again.

It came from throwing that shoe at the wall. From my dad coming downstairs and me yelling at him to shut the ******* door. From my brother being rightfully angry at me because I'd been a **** and throwing his iHome at the ground.

It came from my parents calling the police on me when I was on probation.

It came from de-escalating, talking to the cops, and then using my coping skills and riding my bike after that, but it came from finding my tires slashed and failing myself, storming off and busting things up (only insured things) with rocks.

It came from the police surrounding my house and taking me off to jail, from that being the last time I'd ever see grandpop alive. We caught you on surveillance.

It came from five hard months in the county jail feeling very scared and not treated with justice at all. Except I thought maybe God is treating me with justice.

It came from re-assessing myself and taking some time to breathe.

It came from being locked up again two months after that for smoking ****, for a month and a half long sentence.

It came from behavioral health court, which promised to lower my charge from a felony if I passed this very strict program for a year.

It came from only being able to let it go about 50% of the time and from deep resentment for my parents built up over the years.

It came from being accused of doing opiates when I didn't, and from being reprimanded for not trying hard enough when in truth I was. It came from my psychiatrist is on vacation, and that's why she isn't answering. It came from I know myself, and I don't need medication.

It came from even deeper anger at the system but now I'm an adult. And it seriously helps some of these people, and they really do care I guess.

It came from not being sure if I'm trying my hardest but I'm going to apply here and work on something today.

It came from feeling like a complicated mess no one wants to listen to.

It came from getting up early every day to see if I have a drug test and biking through the freezing cold to make the bus if I do.

It came from love, that's a word I learned.

— The End —