2025 Thanksgiving poetry challenge

[SmilingLez]

Once again the rules are simple - giving thanks or Thanksgiving themed Poetry.

 

[Angeline]

Poor Relations

Daddy called her "Mary
the WASP from Missouri."

She suffered us, as we tumbled
from the car, sprawled
through her perfect Reproduction
Colonial house: grand piano,
plaid den, rumpus room
with a Tiki Bar and So. Much.
Stuff

because Uncle Arthur made good,
an aviation engineer who was sweet
like Grandpa and called me a hum
dinger, but Aunt Mary? Oy she was stiff,
thin and coiffed just so. Constipated
smile

because here we were again,
bringing the ethnic grandma
she called Mimi (Bubbe hated it),
and made us say Grace
(who?)

before receiving her spare meal:
a pale slice of bird, a teaspoon
of peas, a half potato
which I pushed around the plate
because we had a
secret:

I was full to bursting
with Chop Suey, eggroll, fortune
cookies. We always stopped
to eat on the way to Mary's
Thanksgiving.

 

[42BelowsBack]

In a new world altered by loss
a reason for thanks giving.

What is happiness? In puberty, the world
is suddenly imaged unfamiliar.

What happens to us when we turn 18,
-to all our old friends?

Buzz Light year? Master Yoda? What happens
with the girl next door when the new tent appears;

when her smile sparks fire in my down hair? When
I have sudden trouble getting the ‘tent’ zip up.

 

[42BelowsBack]

Learning about the Waltz.
Teen Thanksgiving
facts of life.

1.
Family are unavoidable.
Questions are unavoidable.
Dishes are unavoidable.

2.
Travel plans include
everything that is
impossible.

3.
The Adults will talk, I will
realize teenage moral
catastrophes are unavoidable.

1.
I will theorize, if, 1 & 3
are correct, then, I should
try to waltz my aunty.

2.
One day, my older gay cousin will
bring her latest “we’re just friends.”
One day, we will light a candle and.

3.
She will tease me about when
I tried to waltz my aunt, only
by marriage, —her mom.

 

[SmilingLez]

Thanksgiving.
A life ends —
and we feast.
We draw near,
yet drift apart.

The quiet hums,
heavy as breath.
Gratitude cuts deep.
Joy and grief
share a plate.

We remember
the price of warmth —
this ancient hunger,
still giving thanks.

 

[Xenofidelity78]

Thanks for the giving
while we're upright and living
driven by the riven
that keeps us forgiving

because when we're broken
we finds reasons to be apart
but days like thanksgiving
give us reasons to not

so even if you don't want to
even if it's not 'you'
find a reason to be
part of a bigger family

because that's what it was about
it's just an excuse to be allowed
allowed to feast on more than food
and to drink more than simple brew

be a part of the moment
make it yours and hold it
feel the warmth of family and friend
and keep it close, so that it never ends.

 

[42BelowsBack]

Even on Thanksgiving.
A boulevard of men in
cars.

There are tracks humping up her arm,
she had wine and tobacco for dinner

She is the back seat history of cars
heels on an avenue she’s got to eat

She’s always been in the flight path
of male asteroids hurtling at her earth

She will be sold and purchased on a
boulevard of men creeping in cars.


Inspired by @Tzara’s poem ‘The Tracks’ linked article

 

[Mrtenant]

The Legends of Thanksgiving

Once a year every year
Deep into Autumn
Gathering in good cheer
With those we hold dear

Careful mom and dad
They are watching
But that's not so bad
The gatherings we had

Now it is their turn
To host and prepare
To cook, clean, and burn
Legends made and learned

 

[amitheotherone]

Thankful friends

You did it again my friend
Your always there in the end
Get why I write things and send

Relate to hate that dent
Free love no bill no rent
Visualize words I sent

Tough never bluffs stings
No promise no pinky ring
Taught me trees sing

Knows how it feels
Cards dirty deals
Hurt that steals

Cloaked heart weighs a ton
Grateful our thing isn't done
Thankful for this special one

 

[SmilingLez]

The turkey's a sight on my plate,
With gravy to balance his fate.
Mashed potatoes piled high,
Pumpkin pie by and by —
Thanksgiving's a meal I can't hate!

 

[Angeline]

Another Holiday

Aunt Zelly is five foot six,
a foot of that is red hair,
a bright, sprayed confection
that towers over her birdy
frame like candy floss.

She is tiny and stylish,
just ask her! Mister G says
I'm the perfect sample size,
and she twirls to show full skirt,
tiny waist in wide belt.
Uncle Len is proud of her.

He squeezes my knee,
tells me knock-knock jokes.
He's the baby of the three
siblings and Bubbe smiles
on him but not so much
on Zelly who was a divorceé.

Family secrets are crowded
at the table between platters
and the bottle of Manischewitz,
sticky and way too sweet.

They switch to the mama loshen,
Yiddish, when they don't
want us to understand,
but it's clear enough Zelly
is drunk: she cries in the kitchen
and tells Mama she's "misherable."

We're a Woody Allen movie,
a Philip Roth novel. Is every family
a cliché or is it just us?

 

[Remec]

Thanksgiving; what a fun time we all could have with family,
Could have? Hell. Both you and I, even through grins, shake heads and sigh;
While waiting, even while eating, for arguments to fall off.

 

[Angeline]

Thanksgiving; what a fun time we all could have with family,
Could have? Hell. Both you and I, even through grins, shake heads and sigh;
While waiting, even while eating, for arguments to fall off.

Thanksgiving Sijo!

 

[amitheotherone]

Thanksgiving travel blues

Heading west to beat the rest
First big storm the first test
Packed for the seasonal quest
Misting rain I’m on my way
Harder rain as Dylan plays
Light slips to fade the day
Rain silenced snows time to dance
Dead grass submits to snows chance
Heavy wet controlling the glance
Drive slows just two grooves
Memory guides your moves
Stay clear of the ditches tomb
Home lights in my sights
Laugh again won this fight
Love family again held tight

Arrived safe, a half hour here the power goes out. Nothing else to do but mangle more word of my graffiti poems.

 

[SmilingLez]

Turkey in the oven,
Family chatting and laughing,
Thanksgiving's almost here.

 

[SapioSexual9]

Why I hate Thanksgiving.

Daddy will ignore anything that rhymes with maps
including maps. He will stare by the well, meaning,

mountains, by the high hanging stars. We will find
a cheap motel along some forgotten highway,

It will be midnight. There will be a clock ticking.
Getting out of the car will be clown car chaotic.

Eggs and smokey bacon will fry in the morning.
Daddy will roll his t-shirt sleeves, drink a coffee,

light his smoke with Momma’s cigarette. We will
leave quickly. Daddy will reverse one handed, his

arm outside the car window. I will forget my teddy
bear. The big one with Daddies stash hidden in it.

We will go back and find it. There will be a siren.
Momma will stay Daddies arm and say, of all the

conflicts, this Thanksgiving doesn’t need a life or
death situation. Brother will cry about everything.