Ancestral Poems - Poems about Ancestral

A call for the oppressors downfall

Comfort wrapped in a blanket of security
Never fearing the chance of brutality 
Only a freedom granted to those with fair skin
Greeted by the warmth of idiocy
Building a racist system of legacy
With followers who exhibit stupidity 
But useful in killing democracy 
To continue their self fulfilling prophecy 
Of forced superiority

A politicians smile brings a darkness 
Poisonous

What becomes of a world?

The trees ache with a pain only those who have witnessed true horror 
The swinging rope moping for it had been turned to a killer 
The threads unravelling trying to escape 
A maze with no end 
Running, running, running Away
Yet still can't escape its fate 

A fallen leaf a tear of the tree
Weeping for a

A Scroll Of Unseen Waters

The Scroll Of Unseen Waters  

Come, you who carry fire in your bones and salt in your tears…?
Children of the drum, the dusk, the dust, and the dawn…?
From mountain root to river vein… the land remembers one song…
But the cup that overflows can never be filled…?
And the tongue that speaks before listening forgets the

Elemental rebellion

One of our only protectors
The sun burns their skins
With the reminder of their sins
The sun kisses our skin
Gifting it with affection 


The wind echoes with our ancestors stories
A silent act of justice 
A way to honour black history 
To haunt the guilty
The wind lifts our heads up
To remind us 
That they can't break us
And that

We the soil are witnesses to their turmoil

Trapped within the soil
Told stories filled with turmoil 
Carrying the weight of black history 
But it honours their memory 
By always remembering 
By never forgetting 

Soaked by the tears of the enslaved 
Waiting, hoping, praying to be saved
The ground an unknowing witness 
To them being worked to death
But in awe of their perseverance 

Throughout the

Ancestral Roots The Tree Song

We forget we are like trees, our roots run deep, and far they reach 
Unseen they mostly are, hidden out of side, so deep 
Some forget them, and their histories and from where they came 
Their mothers, mothers, mothers name 
And their fathers, fathers, fathers name. These roots our foundation, have many names 
Without them,

Ancestral Roots The Tree Song

We forget we are like trees, our roots run deep, and far they reach 
Unseen they mostly are, hidden out of side, so deep 
Some forget them, and their histories and from where they came 
Their mothers, mothers, mothers name 
And their fathers, fathers, fathers name. These roots our foundation, have many names 
Without them,

An ode to our ancestors

I am all the people who came before me And I am all the people who will come after me

This is an ode to all of our ancestors Just because we don't all share the same blood Does not not mean that we are not one

To me inheritance Isn't just about family But communal experiences

I

When I look into my grandmother's eyes

When I look into my grandmother's eyes
I see what she's had to sacrifice 
When I look into my grandmother's eyes 
I see a lifetime of pain she's carried
When I look into my grandmother's eyes
I see the hurt of not being accepted 
When I look into my grandmother's eyes
I see Someone who once despised her beautiful

Pictures of Ancestral Images

No colder winter's evening reawakens, in an abrupt
glance, this memory from others already faded
in the inattentive recollection of a son's mind;
even insignificant moments are worthy of thought.

A pubescent boy unlearned and precarious at giving advice,
but ready to provide that tenderness in exploding emotions...
realizing that he would reach the same level of consciousness:
whether or not his

Ancestral Land

In our land, there are no towering peaks,
To guide our dreams to the heights one seeks.
Even humble rocks resemble great hills,
And groves seem like forests in their thrills.

Our rivers don’t rush with a turbulent flow,
They meander gently, serene and slow.
You can’t quench your thirst with a single sip,
When your lips are parched and cracked at

On a rope woven from ancestral nightmares and the greed of shadow monsters

On a rope woven from ancestral nightmares and the greed of shadow monsters,
I step with bare feet, while my thoughts dance chaotically in a penumbra,
Between dream and reality, between sky and earth, between here and beyond myself,
I float suspended in the cold air, and the city below reveals its posthumous secrets.
They always whispered not to

Spanish Ancestral Building

Midnight of October thirty first
I jumped out of bed to quench my thirst
As I groped my way down the huge kitchen
An eerie coldness crept on my skin and then...

When I fumbled the light’s switch on the wall
I was frozen to hear deep whispering calls
Echoing laughter followed my repeated name
I couldn’t move back, I felt completely

ANCESTRAL CHAIN

May we be thankful for the gifts we inherited from our ancestors
that never ending chain of people who came before us
their gifts of love and joy and laughter….
they left us before passing on…

And may we be blessed that our love and joy and laugher 
can be found upon the chain…
long after we are gone.

Ancestral Whispers

Ancestral Whispers
In the depths of the earth, the roots of time stretch like pulsing veins,
Nourishing the collective memory with the fertile essence of our past,
And I, a poet wandering through forgotten eras, gather crumbs of wisdom from the sacred soil.
Magical animals dance in my dreams, fluid contours of light and shadow,
Their eyes glisten with secrets

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