Showcase Of Some Favorite Poems I've Found: Early April 2022 Edition....[ Shared By Bri Edwards ] Poem by Bri Edwards

Introductory Poem:

Is it me, Bri, or Poem Hunter, which makes sharing (with you) these verses....
so cumbersome and frustrating? Is it my advancing age OR some other curses? !
In truth it's so tempting to stop production of 'Showcases', done now for years...
by me, Bri. At times my efforts to share with you drive me nearly to.... tears.

OR is my three meals a day of ice cream, in so many exciting flavors, the real trouble? ?
Please don't tell me I have to quit consuming ice cream, or....you'll 'burst my bubble! !


(April 3rd,2022)

bri edwards
:)

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Thanks, PH poets, for sharing these recent 'favorites' from PH. And thanks to readers who stop by to sample the wares.

The Poems:

1 -

Leaflets From My Life - My Gorgeous Grandma


My Grandma
A beautiful lady,
Whose face shone like a silver moon,
So lovely, like a pink rose,
A natural, fair beauty,
Whose radiance spread around her
With the halo of a shimmering angel,
Lived a life, like a queen of the yore!

Grandma was the eldest child
To her loving parents.
They doted on her with much affection,
Her father carried her around
Like a precious diamond jewel,
Ever reluctant to place her down
Even for a few minutes.
She was the apple of their eyes!

Grandma married my grandpa
At the age of thirteen!
Unbelievable! Isn't it?
But those were the days
When girls were given in marriage
At an early age. My grandpa,
An extraordinary man of principles
Loved and protected her like a royal princess.

She chose to live a simple life,
She had no personal ambitions,
To prove her worth or win a point.
She was content to be a wife, mother, sister,
And certainly, to be my sweet grandmother.
I was lucky to be her eldest grandchild
Born out of her only surviving daughter.
We simply adored each other!

Few are blessed with a charming Grandmother,
Even less, to live with her, to enjoy a carefree life.
I look back at the glorious time spent with her
With nostalgic memories of fun and laughter.
She was a gorgeous lady, so patient, understanding,
It was a period of pure joy, that few experience in life!
My grandmother to me is a symbol of purity, beauty,
The fragrance of her love, I inhale each day of my life.


Geeta Radhakrishna Menon

Monday, March 28,2022

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2 -

Old

People don't die they petrify don't ask why
Hair hanging out their nose, mothball smelling cloths, as on and off they dose
Wrinkles more than a few, passing gas by you, no teeth to chew
Hair falling out, feet with gout, deaf they shout
The belly grows as does the nose its been years since they've seen their toes
Unable to see, an artificial knee, carrying a plastic bag of pee
Tits that sag, an oxygen tank to drag, on food they gag
Compression socks, shuffling walks, dangling cocks
Their memory gone, a diaper they don, as they babble on
Always bruising, drool oozing, lots of medicine using
Blood clotting, heads nodding, their body's rotting
They look like hell, they smell, and are never well
Aches and pains, varicose veins, shrinking brains
Stains in their bed, age spots on their head, the walking dead
But they don't know they're old, till their body's cold, so I'm told


soren Barrett

Wednesday, February 9,2022

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3 -

Nightingales Don't Die


I never had an ear for music,
my design always shuddered at lyrics;
that is the way I am made,
my ears and vocal chords fail to resonate.

I have walked the dusty streets
in the bustle of our cities,
both small and big,
and the unpopulated wilderness,
watched sunset and sunrise
from mountain tops, deserts and sea-sides.

And wherever I went
a nightingale always crooned.
Didn't bother who that was
or where she hid,
for something in me melted in that melody,
though unknown were its subtle metrics,
frequency, waves,
or the tongue whether it was
Hindi, Marathi, some other language.

And now people say
the nightingale has flown away
into the folds of time;
how can that be?

The croon I hear here,
there everywhere,
it can't leave me
but only fill my inside
with nectar, even when I lie
dead on a mountainside
listening to a songful passerine.

For nightingales don't die
and me too with Lata-ji
the nightingale inside me
crooning, crooning and crooning.


Madathil Rajendran Nair

Wednesday, February 16,2022

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4 -

Little Jimmy


A youth called Little Jimmy came
to work at the Bar J,
and when that scrawny kid showed up,
we all just thought, 'No way! '

You've never seen a thinner boy,
‘cept maybe on TV
on those commercials where they show
some helpless refugee.

He did his best, though, I'll say that;
that youngster really tried,
but as the days went on we found
that poor boy couldn't ride.

He couldn't sit on any horse
and stay there on the seat.
He couldn't do most things we do;
all he could do was eat!

As time went on, the kid worked hard
and finally became
a worker we could be fond of,
and proud to hear his name.

Then at the roundup in the fall,
while riding with the pack,
young Jimmy slipped right off his horse
and fell flat on his back.

He would have been all right, but then
the herd began to race
and scrambled all around that boy
and stomped him in the face.

We buried him next day, but how
I wish I could forget!
Much more than thirty years have passed
but still… I haven't yet.


Cowboy Ron Williams

Tuesday, March 8,2022

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5 -

' What Is A Great Guy? ', She Asked Her Mom.... [loneliness; Choosing A Mate; Medium; Bri's Advice Column; Serious, Seriously! ]


When it comes to saying which guy is Great,
it is really up to each gal (or guy) to rate ….
for themselves, …..though I'll give THIS advice:
'Don't ever marry the same guy twice! '

I'm writing this for a special friend of mine.
She's mixed up, but someday she may be fine.
A guy she loved (loves?) broke her heart,
when, for various reasons, they both did part.

She's my stepdaughter N, and a teacher now.
But to the heartache-of-loneliness she does bow …
TOO OFTEN! She's got herself in a depressing rut;
some days aren't bad, while others wrench her gut.

Her Mom and I will always wish her the best.
Sometimes all she may need is lots of rest.
It's tough on her, but it's tough on her Mom too.
If she were your kid, what would YOU do?

N once said she sometimes wishes Mom would 'just listen'….
when in N's two lonely eyes teardrops do glisten.
Phone calls sometimes end in hanging up (one or the other) :
sometimes the hang-upper is N; sometimes it's her mother.

I DO have some more concrete thoughts on this subject.
N may choose to hold onto some and others she may reject.

N, find a guy who makes you happy more than he does not.
Find a guy who has a job or is seriously looking for one, a lot.
Find a guy who's not been scared by a former failed marriage.
Find a guy who doesn't marry expecting a baby carriage.

Find one without a serious anger problem or poor self esteem.
[Of course guys AND gals are not always really what they seem! ]
Find one who does the dishes; it doesn't matter 'slow' or 'quick'.
But it DOES matter if, to an important task, a person doesn't stick.

Of course 'looks' can be important for both of you. A healthy body too.
But it's, after all, the qualities in one's brain and heart ……..
which can kill a relationship eventually, if not from the start.

Good luck, N, with killing the nagging loneliness bug.
If you were here right now I could give you a hug …
which might not help much, but you never know.
Remember, I'm a phone call away if you've got steam to blow.

(September 4,2014)

Bri Edwards



Saturday, October 4,2014


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Readers:
My task of sharing is now nearing completion. I hope you're NOT feeling that any of these poems are 'deserving' deletion.

Bri Edwards aka brian edward whitaker 'in the Real World'.
bri
:)
I hope you all have a good day.