"nanu" poems
Nanu, I had a dream last night that you came back
From being gone almost 3 years
We embraced and I told you I missed you so much
It was bittersweet, really.
I had seen you, and then you disappeared.
Like a shadow, when the sun decides to sleep.
I could've slept eternally knowing I would've been with you; forever
I remember when you were first diagnosed with lung cancer.
You held a smooth stone and told me, "Emily this stone is going to heal me one day."
You told me how it would make you better.
I remember one thanksgiving you gave me a glass of your wine
It was, bittersweet.
Vinegary as it ate away my tastebuds
Sweet like strawberries marinading in sugar, only.. Wine is made out of grapes... You taught me that.
Its funny, you used to let me sit upon your lap when you mowed the lawn, it was my own mistake for crashing it into the fence.
It was, bittersweet.
I got to drive a lawn mower and you had to fix the fence.
I look back to how happy you were on the sun porch in the summer heat, especially when lightening would strike the area around us,
I'd hide my face in your tarnished sweater
It was, bittersweet.
This morning I stood in the snow
Weeping as I stared at the sky,
Then I remembered, you didn't disappear, you just went on vacation for awhile.
It's bittersweet, really.
Jun 16, 2014
Jun 16, 2014 at 12:45 PM UTC
Nanu, I had a dream last night that you came back
From being gone almost 3 years
We embraced and I told you I missed you so much
It was bittersweet, really.
I had seen you, and then you disappeared.
Like a shadow, when the sun decides to sleep.
I could've slept eternally knowing I would've been with you; forever
I remember when you were first diagnosed with lung cancer.
You held a smooth stone and told me, "Emily this stone is going to heal me one day."
You told me how it would make you better.
I remember one thanksgiving you gave me a glass of your wine
It was, bittersweet.
Vinegary as it ate away my tastebuds
Sweet like strawberries marinading in sugar, only.. Wine is made out of grapes... You taught me that.
Its funny, you used to let me sit upon your lap when you mowed the lawn, it was my own mistake for crashing it into the fence.
It was, bittersweet.
I got to drive a lawn mower and you had to fix the fence.
I look back to how happy you were on the sun porch in the summer heat, especially when lightening would strike the area around us,
I'd hide my face in your tarnished sweater
It was, bittersweet.
This morning I stood in the snow
Inhaling the heavy smoke of my marlboro cigarette
Weeping as I stared at the sky,
Then I remembered, you didn't disappear, you just went on vacation for awhile.
It's bittersweet, really.
Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 1:01 PM UTC
When I was younger Nanu
Told me bhoot kahanies of
Treacherous masked nishi
That crept on four long legs
Wreaking havoc among
Peaceful village homes
I sleep with lights on always
Lest the silent boba crept in
In 2001, I discovered bhoot
Wear the mask of friends
With benign, serpentine voices
That sat inside mosques to put
Innocent men in prison and tell
Small children to fear the sky
I sleep with the TV on always
Lest the silent boba crept in
Bhooth walk between us
Tell us to fear each other
Until we cast off our names
Convinced that these are
Weapons waiting to be
Utilized against us.
Jul 1, 2017
Jul 1, 2017 at 4:44 AM UTC
It's a disease
Manipulative and painful
Traveling through the veins of innocent people
Wandering through the genes of many
Its cancer.
I look at the shelf where I keep your pictures, figurines, and such
I think of the red wine made with your soft Sicilian touch
Sitting under the grape vines, reminiscing great times,I read the poem that you left for us to read and it tells me not to weep
Dec 5, 2013
Dec 5, 2013 at 7:11 PM UTC
People keep telling me I have a sense of humor.
I look around and wonder what drugs they are taking.
If this is funny to you, please get in the line on the left,
you will get a ***** prize.
If I am boring you, go shoot yourself now, as this is downhill from here.
And speaking of boredom, I read a quote the other day
that said that boredom is rage spread thin.
I've never really thought of boredom as something soft
and creamy to go on toast, but I can see it happening.
To the waitress at Jim's: Yes, I'll have the eggs over easy,
and wheat toast, boredom on the side, please.
I'm trying this next time. She will probably give me that look
that reminds me I am from a different planet. I need this sort
of thing in my life.
nanu nanu
Jan 11, 2012
Jan 11, 2012 at 9:13 PM UTC
It's a disease
Manipulative and painful
Traveling through the veins of innocent people
Wandering through the genes of many
Its cancer.
I look at the shelf where I keep your pictures, figurines, and such
I think of the red wine made with your soft Sicilian touch
Sitting under the grape vines, reminiscing great times,I read the poem that you left for us to read and it tells me not to weep
Sep 6, 2013
Sep 6, 2013 at 4:06 PM UTC
neeku telusu…. nanu eppatikee kalavalenani….. thelisi kooda matlalu kalipaaavu…!!! neeku telusu….. nanu eppatikyna edipisthavani….. telisi kooda navvinchavu…..!! neeku telusu… nanu eppatikee thakalevani…… telisi kooda kavvinchavu……!! neeku telusu.. naaku dhooramouthavani… telisi kooda preminchavu….!! neeku telusu….telusu….. telisi telisi preminchavu…!! theliyakundaaa dhooramayyaavu…!!!!!!
Jan 28, 2012
Jan 28, 2012 at 2:11 AM UTC
In a row, three
generations of prayer. Your
forehead greets the floor
the way chipmunks touch
noses, but Nanu gets a chair.
Imagine how scared the stars
must have been the first
night they couldn’t see her.
Silk whispers messages
from the rug to your hands,
from Nanu’s feet and mother’s head
to your hands, and the crickets call
to you to say—
we know Nanu has made her
vows and we sing
and we sing with you.
They understand about the chair,
do not want to see
her flicker and fall
is coming with its fallen leaves
so you and two mothers
sway. There is mango
and honeydew on three plates and
dates to break the fast
shadow crossing the moon,
the tides forecast.
Nov 2, 2016
Nov 2, 2016 at 11:34 PM UTC
1- Totes inaprope dope smoker swisher toker blunt wrap roper you be like my ole aunt groper
2- She be grabbin ***** on all ya’ll in the Fall by the ball court short shorts and written reports
3- ******* dorks and eatin pork like nanu nanu Mork with a stork baby drop on the porch
4- Carry the torch to the couch jump up ta bounce see a fool to trounce and slap in the head
5- Make him brain dead said I see red in bedrooms full a ***** mothers slack jaw brothers
6- Druther act like one another than smother muthafuckers with rubber maid garbage cans
7- Hand feeding planned partenthood in the hood acting no good wit mad wood ya shoulda
8- Put those down came round and found a pound for slingin, bringing back the Ringling elephants
9- And cellophane wrapper sandwiches ******* snitching on rich kids for gambling small wagers
10- Drunken rage-ers deranged rangers feeding bears strangers and rearranging body parts
11- Carded farters impart special gasses on mass media fascists allowing brash
Feb 8, 2016
Feb 8, 2016 at 5:29 PM UTC
To,
My Lovely Nanu,
It's hard to live our life without you nanu. We missed you a lot. The pampering of your. And also the beautiful nickname you have given Motaman although am not fat now. I do love the name you have given. It's hard to forget that I didn't able to see you last time. Whenever we needed you we find you beside us. My mother misses her father means you a lot then us. You know what because of you only me and my sister and my brother are in this position. Without you and mumma we are no one. I know you became the beautiful star of sky but also from their you will think about us. I only want to say that you have made us and your motaman will be only your motaman and will always love you. But sorry that I didn't able to meet you at your last time as I was kid of class 10 that's why but you do always come in my dream and please come and talk with me. And yes with our mother and with our maternal uncle please they also misses you a lot. Love you a lot nanu.
From,
Your Motaman
Apr 4, 2021
Apr 4, 2021 at 1:14 PM UTC
In a row, three generations
of prayer; when foreheads
meet the floor, Nanu
gets a chair.
Imagine how scared
the stars must have been
the first night they
couldn't see you.
Imagine the gasp, the
wind's fist unable to grasp
the cosmic impermanence
of what it made
while you and two mothers
sway, there is mango
and honeydew on three plates
and dates to break the fast
the shadow crossing
the moon so slow,
the tides forecast.
Jun 12, 2016
Jun 12, 2016 at 11:59 PM UTC
In a row, three generations
of prayer. When foreheads
meet the floor, Nanu
gets a chair.
Crickets shout through open
windows to break the silence
and silk whispers between
knees and rug to break the bows.
Nanu is too old to bend
to pray; you pull her up
a chair these days. There
are Stars scared of the night
they’ll see you flicker.
You and two mothers
sway, there is mango
and honeydew on three plates
and dates to break the fast
shadow crossing the moon,
the tides forecast.
Sep 1, 2016
Sep 1, 2016 at 1:43 AM UTC
cinder block museum trapped skirt monlogue, caught underneath layer after layer of sediment and time, beholding nothing else save itself, the abyss, Nanu, free range closer, unargumentative and sweet.
Golden dapple sunlight
red apples scattered like fat rubies
on the front lawn.
Summer dawn sleeping. A campfire waiting to be lit. Sudden fractured lights and cool breezes. Ripples across a pond, as birds rise up and across. Worship. Song. Music to heavens, for the heavens, from the heavens, circlet complete.
Radium halos.
A brown sphere rotating in space. Celestial stairway wooden door.
Aug 21, 2017
Aug 21, 2017 at 11:46 PM UTC