A Good Story
1/31/2016
Truly, the thing I love the most
Is a story.
A story well told -
Something few really appreciate --
Life stories
Are the things I love the most.
A life story is a sad thing to lose --
Pass it down,
Send it on,
So it won't be lost.
So tell me a good story -
One with hurt,
Pain,
Joy,
Laughter,
Love,
Sadness,
Anger,
Fear --
So I have a good story
And a piece -- of you --
After you leave.
Showing posts with label history. Show all posts
Showing posts with label history. Show all posts
Thursday, February 25, 2016
The Storyteller - Lost History
The Storyteller - Lost History
2/25/2016
The Story of a person's life
Is honestly quite -- fleeting.
How easy it is to misplace or lose
To not find again - completely.
Though other's know -- small pieces
And parts of another's - life,
That is all --- just a chunk
Of someone else's strife.
Though we can shift through the dirt -
Dig through -- the memories
Trying to fit pieces together
In a single - crafted - story,
Like archaeologists -- we guess
Upon the meaning of the pottery.
A crucial piece is missing --
Our guesses are mere snobbery.
The other's thoughts are replaced,
We can only - guess - at what
Someone else may be thinking
And the - truth - of the matter is
That that really isn't adequate.
The Storyteller of that life is
The only - one - who can make it clear,
With no pieces missing, or shattered,
So we can hold that loved one dear.
The person who truly -- lived it --
It must be them - the Storyteller.
Because honestly who else can supply
A clear and detailed picture.
And without that precious knowledge
Of who you are and were - those left
Must uproot the flowers you planted
To find the remains you kept.
In Loving Memory of my Grandmother who recently passed away.
2/25/2016
The Story of a person's life
Is honestly quite -- fleeting.
How easy it is to misplace or lose
To not find again - completely.
Though other's know -- small pieces
And parts of another's - life,
That is all --- just a chunk
Of someone else's strife.
Though we can shift through the dirt -
Dig through -- the memories
Trying to fit pieces together
In a single - crafted - story,
Like archaeologists -- we guess
Upon the meaning of the pottery.
A crucial piece is missing --
Our guesses are mere snobbery.
The other's thoughts are replaced,
We can only - guess - at what
Someone else may be thinking
And the - truth - of the matter is
That that really isn't adequate.
The Storyteller of that life is
The only - one - who can make it clear,
With no pieces missing, or shattered,
So we can hold that loved one dear.
The person who truly -- lived it --
It must be them - the Storyteller.
Because honestly who else can supply
A clear and detailed picture.
And without that precious knowledge
Of who you are and were - those left
Must uproot the flowers you planted
To find the remains you kept.
In Loving Memory of my Grandmother who recently passed away.
Sunday, October 12, 2014
The Gypsy and the Pilgrim
The Gypsy and
the Pilgrim
4/3/2012
One
summer
I
spoke
With
my Grandmother
And
she told me stories
Of
her time
As
a child
With
her sister
And
father,
Who
was an Italian Gypsy.
All
I really recall
Where
stories of a house
In
the grass,
And
playing with her sister,
Who
she no longer knows,
Because
one day
Her
father disappeared,
Leaving
her
And
her sister
Behind.
But
my Grandma also told me
About
her adopted family,
And
stories of their history.
Of
how her adopted Grandmother
Met
her adopted Grandfather
But
they were both travelers
Going
their separate ways.
They
were not meant to be
Although
they fell in love.
So
when their children,
My
great-grandmother
And
great-grandfather,
Met
by happen stance,
They
fell in love
And
righted the balance.
Then
they adopted my Grandmother
Who
birthed my father,
Who
made me.
Though
my Grandmother identifies
As
an Italian Gypsy,
She
was raised by a family
Who
descended from Pilgrims.
Two
vastly different peoples
But
two similar ways.
Two
families of travelers,
Two
people who had no home.
But
who am I?
A
Gypsy or a Pilgrim?
Do
I have Gypsy soul or not?
The
answer?
Both…
I
am Both.
I
have a Gypsy soul
As
well as
A
European frame of mind.
I
am a Gypsy and a Pilgrim.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)