This week let’s write a kinfolk poem. Last Thursday saw the birth of my latest cousin-grandniece, my father’s brother’s son’s son’s daughter. We’re all related by blood to other people. We might not know them, we might not like them but they’re there. So post your “thicker than water” poems in the comments below.
Living Poetry 
Kinfolk
Great-grandpa Stevens lies
on the hill with all of his time
cradled in the earth
that brought his form to bear
May 11
a mid-Spring day
when the still extant Chestnuts
carpeted the hills
filled the air with white petals
feathering down in the gentle breeze
Six years since the war
(Which one? There is always one to start a count…)
Memories of pain fade
and are eclipsed by creations of our mind
of times to come
Hale and strong in youth
he would have walked the tow paths
(abandoned, trade long gone)
to rails of current-day diligence
and the tales that would be told
He married Sarah Marie
and set to work on their vision
the world they willed into being
She gave him eight
and five they put in this hill (somewhere)
When their surety of their vision
(like those small bodies) was laid low
Why is it we start to be erased
before we are even fully formed
Our earlier chapters lost
Before the current one is written
November 21
an early winter day
when the now extinct Chestnuts
no longer poured out their fruits
on this hill where they would lay him
Six years before the war
(Which one? There is always one to start a count…)
Memories of pain fade
and are eclipsed by creations of our mind
of times that have gone bye.
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Posted by Chris Clarke | June 9, 2020, 10:39 AMLove that line from the first stanza “with all of his time / cradled in the earth” Great stuff!
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Posted by Bartholomew Barker | June 9, 2020, 4:37 PMmy one is quite long, here is the link:
https://wordpress.com/read/feeds/92727461/posts/2748467741
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Posted by Cassa Bassa | June 9, 2020, 8:11 AMWow. An epic!
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Posted by Bartholomew Barker | June 9, 2020, 4:35 PMHere’s my poem for the prompt: https://bartbarkerpoet.com/2020/06/08/skin-deep/
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Posted by Bartholomew Barker | June 8, 2020, 8:50 PMCongratulations to the Barker family! New babies are always a celebration. Nice prompt, but I’m going to cheat and post a silly (tier 2) poem I wrote several years ago.
Strange Ties
At the dinner counter down on main street
two strangers sat sipping tea.
exchanging pleasantries.
“You seem familiar,” said the one on the left.
“So you do,” replied the one on the right.
So they talked about the who’s, where’s and what’s
until they put it together.
“You’re my illegitimate half-cousin twice removed by marriage!”
“Well, that explains your relationship with my ex-step uncle-in-law.”
Glad we got that cleared up.
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Posted by JeanMarie | June 8, 2020, 2:00 PMHa! This is a good southern poem.
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Posted by Bartholomew Barker | June 8, 2020, 4:55 PMThat’s it in a nutshell! Thanks for cracking out the old poetry.
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Posted by Lisa Tomey | June 9, 2020, 9:30 AMas I get older
I notice shifts in family
the order of the day
is not the same as it was
am I to assume
family is a break
instead of a focus
ever since mother passed
life has not been the same
we always looked to her
for comfort
and family history
and unrecorded stories
of many times in her life
and I wish I had written them down
as I hold on to the strands
the people who stay connected
who want to be involved
I am finding
family means many different things
and kinfolk may or may not carry
blood of the same line
and that’s okay with me
because in the end game
of life
family becomes much more than blood
it becomes the arteries
to make the beating
of the heart
but still, that does not mean
I do not desire to embrace
my mother
it means I embrace her even more
in my heart
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Posted by Lisa Tomey | June 8, 2020, 8:41 AMVery nice. Now’s the time to write down what you remember of the stories before the memories fade further.
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Posted by Bartholomew Barker | June 8, 2020, 4:52 PMYes, I have been and sharing with the youngers.
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Posted by Lisa Tomey | June 8, 2020, 6:41 PM