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Passions in Poetry

In My Grandma's Basement

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JamesMichael
Member Empyrean
since 11-16-1999
Posts 33579
Kapolei, Hawaii, USA


0 posted 03-09-2017 04:53 PM       View Profile for JamesMichael   Email JamesMichael   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to Submit your Poem to Passions  View IP for JamesMichael


In My Grandma's Basement

"When I was young (a mere child) I would sometimes
occupy my Grandma's vast basement; in memories it
was so big and interesting and I so small and
curious, a perfect match."

When I was a little boy I remember playing catch
with my younger brother and purposely having him
stand in front of the basement door so I could
throw him the ball and when he missed it would go
tumbling down the long span of wooden stairs leading
into the basement, and when he would start down
the steps to retrieve the ball I would quickly
turn off the basement light and close the basement
door just to scare my younger brother, in retrospect
that wasn't very nice nor safe for him to be
descending the steps and suddenly have the light
go out, you could say I was stupid, and I would
agree with that assessment.  I remember one summer
when me and my brother were staying with Grandma
and she was using one of those old, wringer type
washing machines in the basement to squeeze the
water from the clothes into the open basin and
her finger or hand got pulled into the wringer and
I can't remember the rest of the story but I know
she let out a yell and it surely hurt.  I remember
my Grandma not going into the basement too many
times, possibly from bad memories of that washing
machine, or possibly because she was old and didn't like going up and down the stairs. I
remembera place in the basement where Grandma would
storesome of the jars to make the concord grape jellies
when she would pick grapes from her grapevine near
the alley in her back yard right next to the garage.
I remember my older sister telling me that they
stayed at Grandma's one summer and they were raising
chicks and they kept them in the basement.  I can
remember two smaller rooms in the back part of the
basement; the one on the left that stored coal in
times past, when the home used a coal heating heater
and the one on the left was a storage room that
contained a large old chest that was full of womans
dresses and old photo's, and my sisters would tell
us stories about an aunt in our family that used
to live in Chicago and supposedly they found some
photo's of her sitting on the lap of gangsters like
Al Capone, which led to a later conversation with
Grandma where they ask her if our aunt was a floozy,
a subject Grandma never commented on; I for one could never believe our family had been involved in
illegal activities.  I remember the door and the
steps that went from the basement to the back yard,
and it seemed sometimes their were steps and other
times they were gone as if once you descended into
the basement there would be no escape if you went
up the long span of stairs to the kitchen and that
door was locked.  I remember my younger brother
not wanting to play too much in the basement, maybe
not appreciating the times I locked him in the basement.  All in all, it was an interesting and
fun place.

JamesLee
3/9/17


  

© Copyright 2017 JamesMichael - All Rights Reserved
Bluesy Socrateaser
Senior Member
since 11-07-2002
Posts 699
In The Mirror


1 posted 06-01-2017 04:34 PM       View Profile for Bluesy Socrateaser   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Bluesy Socrateaser

A grand tale to include the place of my birth.

...just bein' Bluesy

 
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