Tag Archives: Poetry

Haiku 218 by Melba Christie


Every dream broken

Melancholy confusion

Bitter lonely night

Grandparents Day –


Today is National Grandparents Day. It is a day to remember perhaps the eldest family member. It is an opportunity to remember those who have passed as well. I met only one grandparent. My maternal grandmother was an extraordinary lady. She was widowed young and raised four daughters on her own. I remember her stories most of all. I spent most of the summer vacations with her so I was always asking for her to tell me about my grandfather and other family members I had not met.

Here is my poem in honor of my late Grandmother:

We called you mother

sometimes I wondered why

But as I grew older I understood

the importance of your legacy

You taught me about love

You taught me about patience

You taught me by setting the example

You taught me to love nature

You used language eloquently

your voice calmed

your gentle touch soothed

My mother reminded me of you

You taught her how to love me

and for that I am grateful.

In Remembrance of My Father-in-Law


You became a father to me;

I needed someone to look up to and make proud once again.

You counseled me during hard times.

You protected me when you thought I was not looking.

You taught me that marriage is a heavenly partnership.

I watched how much you loved your children

and then the grandchildren we gave you.

You were so proud when you met your great grandchildren.

You lived a life full of commitment to what is truth and justice.

You were the ultimate patriot.

I may not have told you enough that

I loved you like a father.

I may not have thanked you enough for all the things you did for all of us.

Somehow I think you know now.

We miss you very much.

Rest in Peace!

The Heart


Usually colored a bright red

shaped simply symmetrically

symbol of adoration,

as to be beloved

on every 14th of Feburary.

Filled with compassion, desire,

and hope.

We all want to come home to our hearts,

to make sure we care about what truly matters.

It beats in unison within every living thing

the minute we enter this life.

Let us remember

we all have only one heart.

Let us remember that it can become

broken at times.

But that love will always heal it.

So much resides in our hearts.

We need to remember to be a kind host.

Share it, and always know,

as the great bard once wrote;

” My heart has rights over your heart.”

And when my heart leaps

it is when I see the greatness

in our humanity.

Let our hearts always be mindful

of the fact,

that we are all together

on the same pathway

coming home to our hearts.

Our Hearts Beat in Unison by Melba Christie (c) 2019

About a Beloved Writer and Writing


Toni Morrison passed away at the age of 88 years old. If you want to know about writing and about how writers understand what writing does for the soul then Toni Morrison has some advice for all of us. The following are clips of interviews with Ms. Morrison and some links to articles that are very insightful to say the least. Her work will endure and she will be beloved for many years to come. Rest in peace! You will be missed.

https://www.huffpost.com/entry/toni-morrison-pieces-i-am_n_5d498a3ce4b0244052e1791c

Sickened Again


I spent three glorious days with grandchildren. They lift me up in ways I cannot even describe. I sat to write some poems to post for the next few days. I was so engrossed in my grandkid’s visit that I did not watch the news or read a newspaper. I just heard of the mass shootings that have occured within the last 15 hours of so. I am sickened again. My heart hurts. I watched and listened to the expressions of the victim’s families. I am sickened again at the thought that a mother who was shopping for school supplies was killed as she shielded her two month old child. I am sickened to the point of nauseum.

Will this to pass in a few days after the media stops interviewing victims and victim’s families? I am sickened again because I know the answer. Nothing will be done. Nothing will be done folks.

Hatred is winning! Here is my poem to express my personal grief. I am sickened and identify with all the mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, grandparents, aunts, uncles and every other person who is as sad and sickened as I am right now.

Bang, Bang, you are dead!

Hatred still lives in some hearts!

How do we kill HATE?

What will take for true action to happen?

I am sickened. My heart hurts

Does your heart hurt too?

Then what are we going to do?

It is really up to us!

You have to know it’s true.

It really is up to me and you.

God help us all!

Grandma’s Tale


I was told an old folk tale

when I was a little girl,

and I still want to believe;

somehow love always wins.

The hummingbird was once a being

and the reason it hovers over

flowers bright and red

is that his one and only love

was prohibited.

The woman he loved so dearly

preferred to be turned into a flower

rather than marry someone she did not love.

and he preferred to become a hummingbird

than continue to live without her.

This is the story my grandmother

told me long ago.

A tale of love so great.

So if you ever see a hummingbird,

floating near a red flower;

pray he finds his true love;

So his anguish will be over.

Photo from Pixabay

Little Artist


All children are artists. The problem is how to remain an artist once they grow up.” – Pablo Picasso

 

Little Artist

At four she knows art is a serious endeavor

She even said she wanted to be an artist forever

It’s in her DNA a proud grandpa decreed

Look at the great perspective!

She’ll be a great artist indeed.

 

Look at her choice of colors

her palette is unique

Just like her great big smile

Super Magnifique!

Her first exhibit made us all so proud

Her grandpa and grandma had to clap out loud.

Our little artist stands tall

in front of her art display

We took a picture to show everyone

and two minutes later

she told us she wanted to have some fun

and ran out to join her friends on the swings

now we are reminded

of something Picasso said,

“To draw you must close your eyes and sing.”

 

 

 

 

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