Besides writing psychological poetry, Mark enjoys exploring a variety of topics from surfing to juicy grandma kisses.
Grandmas Never Die
Grandmas never die. Their bodies may disappear but their spirits keep us company.
We still hear the sound of their voice. See the color of their shoes. The funny things they said and their wonderful memories remain in the storehouse of our minds like a fun game of Casino or a tuna sandwich on toasted white bread.
When my grandma was alive, she shared so many wonderful moments that I had to write a poem to chronicle the more precious ones. Like most grandmas, my granny was quirky, outspoken and, above all, provider of plenty of hugs and kisses.
Poem: Juicy Grandma Kisses
That grandma in the bistro
has the same old lady smell
that my grandma had—
Vicks Vapor Rub
with a hint of Mercurochrome.
I bet she's a good cook, too,
with big chunks of eye round
in her savory beef stew
and cries when she dices
a Spanish onion.
I bet she watches As the World Turns
and wears beige-colored oxfords
with ripple soles, eats Saltine Crackers
and wears dark stockings
with holes in her toes.
I bet she has a grandson like me
with scruffy hair and a pimply face
who visits her every Saturday
to play Rummy and Casino
and to chop her tuna fish.
I bet she takes small oval pills,
has cataracts in both eyes,
a heating pad for her arthritic hip
and always gets her nails clipped
by a podiatrist.
I bet she uses perfumed powder
after a nice hot shower,
wears an odd shade of lipstick,
gives her grandson plenty of hugs
and juicy grandma kisses.
© 2019 Mark Tulin