At the Malt Shop (new poem)

At the Malt Shop

by Tim Kavi

On Main Street

in my old hometown

there was a soda fountain malt shop place

that sort of reminded me of the movie

It's A Wonderful Life

It was still there as late as the 1970s

and part of the 1980s

but the kids from the 1950s

were all grown up now

and the counters and stools

were empty

but you could still go there

and get a cup of coffee

or a milkshake

and the old man who owned the place

wore a suit with a narrow black tie

his hair slicked back

horn-rimmed glasses

his adult son still worked with him

but at this point, it seemed a labor of love

forgotten love songs played on the jukebox

in a place where there seemed to be quiet

ghostly shadows juxtaposed on the walls

dancing in the natural light

that came through big picture windows

I would go there and order a cheeseburger

and it would take a few minutes as he cooked it from scratch

this was not a fast food place

and the owner would deliver it to my table

with a big basket of fries

and a check that looked like it was straight out of film noir

the place wasn't open much longer

but the cheese burgers , the Cokes,

the milkshakes were good

I saw my mother's saddle shoes hanging on the doorknob 

when I left it that last time

I thanked the owner and his son

It was a time traveler's treat

My grandmother used to work here, I said

back in the 1950s

her nickname was 'Cookie' I said

he had a huge smile

and he had just as many memories as me

only mine were slightly different from his

but we can still make them, even today

(based on a real visit)

that some can only know virtually now...

or, if they take the time, on the silver screen.

MY Grandma the Poet: Gets Published With Her First Collection. Publication Announcement!

 

MY Grandma the Poet: Gets Published With Her First Collection. Publication Announcement! (Foreword by Tim Kavi & Liz Kellebrew).

Today is my Grandmother's 122nd birthday. She was a huge influence on me, creating her own poetry over the years, something I've celebrated and written about on my blog on multiple occasions, always on February 23rd, with entries titled: 'My Grandma the Poet.' Well, today on her birthday,  I am proud to announce that her first poetry collection has been published posthumously. I had the honor of co-writing the Foreword along with my daughter. All three of us are published poets (grandma, just now) and this volume includes poems from all of us, making it a true multigenerational work! Heartland: Poems from the Heart is a moving collection of poems by my grandmother that celebrates family life, resilience, and dealing with wartime loss and grief--as she migrated from a small homestead in Missouri to the Pacific Northwest.  Heartland-- is available on a pre-order basis until tomorrow when it goes live!

Click here to go to Kindle Order Page! #poems #loss #family 

Love you Grandma!~~TK So happy the world can now read your work!

To the World at Christmas (New Poem)

To the World at Christmas

by Tim Kavi

Everywhere there is a longing

to let free voices sing

To enjoy the festivities

that happiness will bring

but no matter what or where

our prayers are for peace

and love in all hearts there

where you are

may the joys of a coming New Year

and the Christmas season

fulfill the prospects of joy

that is due you all

with love from poet Tim Kavi 

Namaste

Bridges of Home (poem)

bridges of home
by Tim Kavi

girders of strength
bring relief to the searching
absent loved ones
want to hurry home

familiar, looking closer
the beams are still strong
every lane leads home
peering closer
decay is evident everywhere

collapse is not imminent
just the wearings of age

home never looked so good
and I will take every bridge gladly
just to be back there
in your arms again

they carry me to all
that I loved and once knew
to the known, the expected,
the life of everyday surprise.

My Grandma the Poet (Essay/Poetry) (repost with New Foreword)

A Younger Tim Kavi with His Grandma

New Foreword:

Today would be my maternal grandmother's 113th birthday.

I am reposting the following blog entry (an edited version) about her as a tribute.

(Originally posted here in 2008 & 2012).

I cannot tell you how much she means to me.

She was my earliest poetic influence

and taught me so much...

Happy Birthday Grandma!!

My Grandma the Poet

I never forgot her

her love was the most patient teacher

any grandson could have

and I often told her I loved her so

from as far back as I remember..

I have memories like this:

grandma would say Timmie

and was happy to see some of my first poems

scrawled in crayon

or pencil

so grandma and me would write poems at the same time

when I was little

and she was so big in my little eyes

her gentle ways taught me more about the

goddess than just about anybody

I know

I think grandma was a goddess

she would write poems by the hours

on sheets of typing and notebook paper college ruled

and writing tablets

all handwritten in very large letters

I was high enough to peek over the arm of the chair

to watch what she was doing

if I was good and asked real nice

grandma would read me some

out loud

she had a way with words

these were lyrics and fine ballads

born in 1900 on a homestead she was a country girl

grandpa was a sharecropper, migrant worker

later, a factory worker

they seemed poor

but rich in so many ways

but we were so happy

grandma liked reading romance magazines

in that rocking chair

songs of home, heart, romance

and her and grandpa were married for more than 50 years

you know grandma taught me

a lot

and every once in awhile

when I write a poem now

I think grandma sees it

I hold it up to her just like I used to and you know what?

she grins

and that still makes me pretty damned happy.

here's an excerpt from one of

grandma's poems:

Tomorrow's End

by Lura Newland 

My wonderful kids

How I love you so

I must know if there is a place

For me, or a home to go.

I won't need many extras

Just a bed at nite

A place to love my grandchildren

And my poetry to write.

Could I have a chair by a window

With the sun shining in

That would make me so happy

As my eyes grow dim.

I'd be all settled in comfort

Shielded from the cold

What a glorious feeling to know

Then I am growing old...

This Poet's Note: grandmothers can be terribly important. As you can tell, mine was extremely important to me. The poet "gene" certainly runs in my family...my grandma, my mother, and other family members write prose that inspires and moves me across all time.~~TK

Amazing Grace--Part II; The Amazing Love of Families (Essay) (Tim Kavi's VALENTINES BE MINE FOR NINE: Posting 7)

On the Love of Family and 

the Hands that Hold Us (essay)
by Tim Kavi

(An essay about the Love of Family)

Posting on Day Seven of  VALENTINES BE MINE FOR NINE continues with another entry on the awesome love of family.  How important is it?  And how lucky are we to have it?

If we think about the love of families and the hands that hold us--we are often talking about times when we are dealing with stress in families. There, in  a family, is one place where many of us can thankfully be accepted, and more often than not, are loved at least to some degree.  While many of us do not live in perfect families, we do live in families that if we are lucky--can be a source of support when we really need it.

Now, outside of luck factors--there are some families that have learned how to coalesce as a unit, and have discovered that nurturing is there in a powerful way. Sometimes adversities have visited these families which resulted in a close knit type of support that is rarely seen at other times and in other places.

In short, there is something very special about families that love each other, and that have passed through the furnace of troubles and built a very strong love indeed.  Sociologists and anthropologists have long known that there are important benefits to family life.  Among these are care for offspring,  assisting sick family members back to health, or providing a place where one is accepted and loved.

Nothing builds this closeness and intimacy quite like the families that have faced medical adversities, or had one of its members born with a serious challenge.

Yesterday on this blog, I posted a poem as a tribute to one of these families that I am lucky to know. The type of family that I'm writing about here today in this column.  The kind of family that through adversities have grown close and strong in their support of each other, and through it all, have created an enduring atmosphere of love. To have such a family! Surely, this family I am writing about is certainly a good example of this special kind of love--the love of a close knit family.

Yesterday's poem 'Amazing Grace' described what I would call a close knit family that has been through some pretty hard times. And one of this family's three children was mentioned in my poem. I am referring to Grace, or 'Gracie', a child who was born with Down Syndrome.

Now Down Syndrome affects 1 out of every 691 births in the United States. Babies born with Down Syndrome may face a number of potential health problems throughout their life span and these can include congenital heart defects, respiratory and hearing problems, Alzheimer's disease, childhood leukemia, and thyroid conditions.

You can read about the characteristics and demographics of this condition by clicking here http://www.ndss.org/Down-Syndrome/Down-Syndrome-Facts/.

I would not want to draw attention to one poem or myself, but only to focus on that special little girl we learned about yesterday, Grace.  She and her family are to be commended, and appreciated. They are our true heroes!

Research should continue on Down Syndrome so that someday research can find a cure, or a means to prevent it, and to help those who suffer from it to have less hardships, better quality of life, and increased longevity.

There are many conditions besides Down Syndrome that a family can encounter.  There are enough troubles even in a typical adolescence. But there is no substitute for a loving family that has to face any of these things. Research has shown that a positive loving home can influence the outcomes of many chronic health conditions.

Grace was very fortunate to be born into such a loving family.  And wherever we are, and whoever we are, I can only say as this Valentine's Day approaches--that we are tremendously blessed and inspired by you, Grace, and your family. You teach us as well as any love story, that a family love story is one kind of love that love is all about. Namaste and God Bless You all.~~TK

'Amazing Grace' (a new family love poem) (Tim Kavi's VALENTINES BE MINE FOR NINE: Posting 6)

Amazing Grace

by Tim Kavi

(a family love poem)

amazing Grace

your love lights the world

your sweet smile

is its banner unfurled

from your declarations

of love

never has an "I Love You"

come from

such a giving heart

struggling with ailments

touches many

yet you face with a brave love

what many would hide from

all that know you

some that only know of you

all say

that you are love

personified

Venus emerged from the ocean

riding a shell

Athena sprang from the head

of Zeus

but you are 

the Goddess

above them all

glorified

your sweet endearing

gentleness

is no surprise

to your family

for they are made

of the same stuff

who knowing adversity

clung to one another

hugging and holding true

never giving up

your mother

your father

your sister

and brother

divine visitation

rains upon all of us

the rest of us too

for whenever we see you

we are greatly moved

by the love of you

Amazing Grace

how can we not be thankful

for your birth?

oh, precious little one

most precious of Earth

naysayers

who speak of misfortune 

forget the love

that overcomes all

a love

we all long for 

and only are taught 

by You

what love is

for whenever

we behold you

Amazing Grace

how can we not love you?

for it is not only

your mother

and your father

your sister and brother too

are all part of the special

family of you

even

Kisa Agraphina

meows praises to you

while singing

and dancing

You are in your innocence

the greatest heart

of all

we are taught history

fulfillment of destiny

through our acceptance

of just you; perfect you 

every life is so precious

and we are glad for you

as Amazing Grace

you teach us this

better than all

in all that you do

and say and hug

Amazing Grace

we see you

there is only one response

we must show 

and tell you 

that we love you too.

Poets Afterword:  Not everyone has an easy entry to this life.  Today's poem is about a very special young lady and it celebrates her life with the family she loves so much.  (And they certainly love her back). As such, I believe the poem 'Amazing Grace' not only celebrates her life and love, but I humbly believe it's also a true 'family love poem'.  Yes, she was born with Down Syndrome, and she is living every moment to the fullest with a family and home that is filled with love.  I am honored that the family gave me permission to offer my humble poem about Grace as one of the special blogging events for VALENTINES BE MINE FOR NINE. When I first met her father, I was filled with respect and instant appreciation, later, after I learned about their daughter Grace, and the rest of his family, I developed an even deeper affection for this family; and I knew it was a story that I wanted to share with the world. To that family and to Gracie--I believe with all my heart that there is a collective WE that says: we are honored to know you and that we love you too! Tomorrow, we'll make a post about Down Syndrome.  Here is what her Father said about Grace at this time (as of just a few days ago):  Grace's primary focus of late is to remain in the middle of just about everything her big sister does. Gracie loves dancing, art, music and listening to me play guitar. We can't go anywhere with instruments without her yelling, "Daddy-yee" and pointing to a guitar. She has a memory like an elephant. She loves without reason. She absolutely loves to kiss foreheads and cuddle. She loves to create and mimic her big brother and big sister. Gracie loves her cat, Kisa Agraphina (Russian for cat born feet first). She stops on the street to kiss dogs and runs up to people wherever we are to get hugs. She's ready to help her friends in class, especially the ones with separation anxiety. Grace is the definition of "try". She works so hard at everything she does. She does not yet speak, yet communicates beautifully in her own language (sign/Gracie's English). Grace loves to cook, help clean and be a part of everything which takes place around the house.~~TK Also, you can read more about Grace and her family in the post just after this one. Click Here if you Want to go directly there.

My Grandma the Poet (A Memoir) (repost with New Foreword)

new foreword:

Today would have been my maternal grandmother's 112th birthday.  I am reposting the following blog entry about her as a tribute (originally posted here in 2008).  I cannot tell you how much she means to me.  She was my earliest poetic influence and taught me much... Happy Birthday Grandma. Love, that's the biggest reason I write poetry. ~~TK  BTW, the style is open prose, so forgive [sic] the lack of punctuation and informal qualities. 

My Grandma the Poet (A Memoir)

A true story from my hometown life:

I grew up in a small town and loved grandma and visited her house
I stayed there lots of weekends
even until my late teens

she made homemade candy
and treats, good homecooked meals
and the holidays everyone in the family came there

aunts and uncles and lots of cousins
there weren't any boy cousins
although I had two brothers
(they were much older than I)
I made mudpies with my girl cousins
who giggled incessantly
and told me how to cook
fine pies in the mud

grandma tended to her kids
but when she got older she worked a little...

grandma was the town "cookie" cooking burgers that all the teens loved at the soda five and ten

you know the malt shops with soda jerks? in the 1950s...

post war bums with some slicked back hair and cars with big fins

susie was over in the corner
eatin' grandma's burgers

grandma was behind the counter and she grins

watchin the drama unfold
susie ignored the man's advances
and all the other cooks
cackled

susie was a real good looker

I had a burger there in the Soda Fountain place in the late 70S before they tore down the place
the same owner was there but he was Cookie now, and grandma was living in the twilight of her life. the place was empty, but the food was still good and you could get a lot for your money all the noise was down the street at some fast food place. There wasnt even a battle of the bands no more. The owner worked there with his son who never had another job and stayed with his daddy till the end even though he was all grown

I went to grandma's house for a visit soon
after seeing her old working place

grandma was rockin
in her rocking chair
writing poems and crocheting and watching Bonanza, Highway to Heaven (she loved Michael Landon) and, Portland wrestling

when she gave advice you listened

I never forgot her
her love was the most patient teacher

any grandson could have
and I often told her I loved her so

from as far back as I remember..
I have memories like this:

grandma would say Timmie
and was happy to see some of my first poems
scrawled in crayon
or pencil
so grandma and me would write at the same time when I was little and she was so big in my little eyes


her gentle ways taught me more about the
goddess than just about anbody
I know

I think grandma was a goddess

she would write poems by the hours
on sheets of typing and notebook paper college ruled
and writing tablets

all handwritten in very large letters

I was high enough to peek over the arm of the chair to watch what she was doing

if I was good and asked real nice
grandma would read me some
out loud

she had a way with words

these were lyrics and fine ballads

born in 1900 on a homestead she was a country girl
grandpa was a sharecropper
they seemed poor
but rich in so many ways

but we were so happy

grandma liked reading romance magazines
in that rocking chair
songs of home, heart, romance

and her and grandpa were married for more than 50 years

you know grandma taught me
a lot

and every once in awhile
when I write a poem now
I think grandma sees it

I hold it up to her just like I used to and you know what?

she grins

and that still makes me pretty damned happy.

here's an excerpt from one of
grandma's poems:

Tomorrow's End

My wonderful kids
How I love you so
I must know if there is a place
For me, or a home to go.

I won't need many extras
Just a bed at nite
A place to love my grandchildren
And my poetry to write.

Could I have a chair by a window
With the sun shining in
That would make me so happy
As my eyes grow dim.

I'd be all settled in comfort
Shielded from the cold
What a glorious feeling to know
Then I am growing old...


author's note: grandmothers can be terribly important. as you can tell, mine was extremely important to me. the poet "gene" certainly runs in my family...my grandma, my mother, and both my daughters write prose that inspires and moves me across all time.~~TK