Best Ancestors Poems
I'll drink tears from my ancestors in silence
From history's cup of their defiance
I'll sit in darkness where my soul is torn
and quench my parched thirst of self reliance
To understand their hell and be reborn
Remembering iron shackles, blood stained, worn
My mind reveals stones from a slaver's wall
Crumbling through years from a past I mourn
I carry each stone to the master's wall
Pulled from stoney fields with blood as a shawl
I'll stand among ruins of an anguished time
With memories of tears, feeling them fall
I touch every scar as history is blind
Reach my hands upward, my spirit will climb
and free my caged soul so a healing comes
I'll drink tears from my ancestors so they remind
contest..Writing in a Black Perspective
2/25/15
Your wise eyes glistened with cataracts, showing me the hazy Indian sky
The wrinkles on your face, the lines by your eyes, showed me the joys of the hills and caverns of the lands
The raised veins on your hands, bumpy yet smooth, acts like the Ganges, a life supply for you and many
The graying in your hair, shows me the struggles and triumphs, the marriages, the children,
The arthritis you have showed me the pain and determination, the years of work, the labor,
The gentle touch from your rough hands, show me your motherhood, your warmth, your love
The words you spoke, your native tongue, acted as the voice of a generation of women, a voice that’s been heard for years, but only sometimes appreciated
Your loss of hearing showed me the loudness of actions, the loudness of your people, the stories, the lessons you have heard over the years
The loss of memories for you, only showed the tremendous amount you lived, you saw, and felt
Your old passions and anger shined w the ferocity of the fiery red Indian sun
Your dry and cracked hands, showed me the deserts of Rajasthan
Your old gold, your wedding ring, your bangles, show me the beauty of our country, the traditions, that even after the years of wear, we still have value
Your old stories of your family show me the interconnectedness of us all, one large tree, supported by your roots
“Mother India, Mother India,” I call into the void,
Wishing you still were near to bring me back home
The wonders you have seen, the pain you have felt, the revolution and wars you have lived
Mother India was you
A woman older than the world, wiser than philosophers, more beautiful than the Taj
As one Mother leaves, the next generation takes her place,
Yet we never forget our ancestors
The ones who fought, clawed, and struggled for us
The ones who sacrificed their lives for us
You truly loved me
This much I know
You were a mother and grandmother
In more ways than one
You were my grandmother, but you were Mother India
You taught me to love my culture and you were my reason for going back to India
Your time had come and your daughters will take your place.
You were Mother India, I was Daughter India
My world is different from yours,
but the same values and lessons I hold
I miss you
But I know i have the same passions, the same strength, the same love running through my veins
I am dipped in burnt sage
smudged with black skin
Choctaw infused in my DNA
Creole seasoning the roux
in my bloodline
I slow simmer
for I am daughter of
strong warrior
Too powerful to
give up
cause surrender is
an unfamiliar name
to my lineage
My hair kinks just right
Bones and muscles designed
to balance the
world on my back
I can birth a generation
and feed it plentiful
from the milk and honey
that flows from my breast
I smile warm sunshine
my ancestors bathed in
Old ***** spirituals
vibrated from their vocal cords
as blood from fingertips
stained massa's cotton
I walk upright
with square shoulders
head held high to God
I've time traveled through
lifetimes before me
My black is not for
barter and trade
My woman is not to
be negotiated
You can't experience
my being without
being in my experience
You take the sweet meat
and leave the rotten
Not knowing I turn rotten
into witches brew
that strengthens
my inheritance
the parts of me you
wish pain for
I'm not worried about
you robbing me of
my ethnicity
You can desire to
be like this woman
but you could never be
woman enough as me
My black be God given
The elements of my woman
be everlasting
You thief in night real well
but what you know about
me and my kind
You can never represent
the meaning of Full lips
and wide hips
made for bearing
breathing life when all
your lips and hips are good for
Is delivering white lies
3/8/2020
You never write.
You never phone.
And there are strangers
Living in your home.
Where are you Loves?
You’ve disappeared----
Then come unannounced,
Dressed in memory,
And I, clothed in tears.
Immense Light
too huge to hold
Where I wait
Each day, blessed time grows old.
Without end
Flame cradles
All, I see
Add my Loves’
Beginnings and Forever
Be…
lilac lullabies
black and yellow butterflies
cotton candy blue skies
field and house work once idealized
perfect dreams
imperfectly fantasized
tangled with filthy truths and honorable lies
every night they listen and console
uplifting the spirits of one another
chanting we will not let them see our cries
noise silences the chastised
perseverance overcomes the spark in their eyes
this too shall pass, in the end a better tomorrow lies
fully aware the sun will continue to rise
hope kept them focused and willing to strive
mentally trapped yet conscious of the
planned infiltrated compromise
oppressors remain confused of their laughter
it was incomprehensible and quite taken by surprise
under the impression everything had been stripped from them
the ancestors were found uplifted every morning
still walking about lilacs singing lullabies
smiling at the sight of black and yellow butterflies
dancing under cotton candy blue skies
I’m having soup for food today
because I am so poor
I mean that in a financial way
I’m rich in blessings of lord
I can sit and doodle a bit
With muses on my brain
But so engaged in my writing page
Soup gets cold all in vain
Seems I’m wired to be inspired
By amethyst art of variety
Music poems stories songs fire
Of purple piety
Spirit is loud it starts to shout
You were born to adorn and create
Awareness and, a special blend
Of praising God in your purple way
Fruit of the spirit feeds us here
In the womb of Poetry Soup
I can glide down rainbow slide
Of your mind in words of truth
As I grow within my chocolate soul
I feel the ancestors smile
Stories of old make me emerald glow
I live to make them proud
So pardon me if I peach preach
My heart belongs to Jehovah
When I eat I pray in pink peace
That he blesses food over and over.
Thank you Lord for my daily bread
Even when it is just soup
By his hand I am fuchsia fed
And led by his mocha muse.
SEEDS
Who did you leave under the sea?
Was it a black engineer building dreams?
And a brown baby with shackled hands little feet
An angel in disguise floating in the deep
Who did you throw in the ocean that day?
Was it a famed priest known to pray
To African ancestors whose hearts await
Arrival of those you stole away
Who did you drown in the big blue water?
Grandma grandpa son daughter
Artist singer soldier doctor lawyer
Because your soul is rotten out of order
Who was the wicked one that day?
Who inherited the curse of the slave?
You threw them away in the blue green sea
They were not stowaways they were holy seeds.
'Just get over it'
No we still haven't received reparations
And they are long overdue
Why would we get over it
When you prance around wearing bags made of our skin
Sitting your privileged self's on chairs oh so familiar
The fabric - our skin
But you'll never know
You'll never care
Because of your ignorance
Because what you don't know won't hurt you
But a little secret, I promise you it hurt us
Can't you hear the echoes of our ancestors
Or is your inability to basic human emotions
Cause you to go deaf in both of your ears
'Just get over it'
No how about you don't deny our history's existence
How about you stop going on the defence
Everytime you hear about the black experience
Why would we get over it
When it slaps us in the face
Every single day
Through the blood stained pavements
From segregation to alienation
Through the changing of weapons
Long gone are the harsh echoes of the whips
Is now the sharp bang of a gunshot
Going from personal torture
To cowardly killings
'Just get over it'
How can we
When everyday we carry the scars of our ancestors
And you carry the evil spirit of your ancestors
How are we supposed to walk the streets
Where public lynchings was free entertainment
Because no matter how hard you try to erase
The echoes of violence still linger
And the weight of generational trauma clings to a world we built
'Just get over it'
You may have drowned our cities
And set fire to our towns
But one thing remains known
Is how you'll never silence our screams
How can we get over it
When the rope Hangs from the trees
When segregation is over yet the ice in your eyes make known we are unwelcome
How sundown towns still exist with the same outcome
Where every ship is haunted by the fear
Our people faced
Drowning in the eerie thoughts of what's to come
When black history month
Reminds that nothing has really changed
The only difference is the rules of game they made
And the changing of the games name
You claim we are stuck in the past
But we are still living in it
How can we forget
When there's constant reminders
Hiding in every corner
Where every shadow leads to another piece of trauma
That reminds black is not just a colour
A BALLAD TO THE ANCESTORS
Like ripened fruits plucked from a flourishing tree,
They were stolen from a lush paradise garden;
A self sustained dwelling having no need of a warden;
A beautiful paradise where all could work and live free;
But the thieves of the sea came, taking them to the shore.
Cabled towed neck to neck; waist shackled like others before.
They were stacked in ship bellies reeking with death, feces and pee.
God please let their souls’ survival spirit always abide within me?
Though many of our ancestors chose the freedom of death
Over the slavery of life, others chose for one reason or another,
To survive the Middle Passage in hope of returning to the home they left;
These arrived as chained exotic human cargo for trade and barter.
From sea ships’ corrals to auction blocks, they were bought and sold.
Skilled craftsmen they were—intelligence secret—skills used later to get free;
Fooling bidders believing the dumb beasts were well worth their weight in gold.
Oh God I pray their souls’ survival spirit will always abide within me.
Four hundred years of bloody slaving labor from can see to can’t see—
Our ancestors—bonded—free fodder fueling a peculiar institution
In which one had to be fully white in order to really be free.
And all blacks—objects of pleasure for all whites’ ravenous satisfaction.
The black woman—fertile young and old—became its chief breeder.
For pleasure or profit—fertile mother of bastards she was branded to be.
For all children, black, mulatto or white, the black breast was the leaking feeder.
God please allow their souls’ survival spirit to always abide within me?
Yes, through skills, blood, sweat and tears, our ancestors learned to prevail;
Leaving us here still able to struggle and fearlessly fight to be totally free.
With the undying spirit of our ancestors’ audacious faith and hope, we will not fail;
For God has decreed their souls’ survival spirit to always abide within you and me.
Smile if I could
smile if I would
smile as I should…
I can see
ancestors smiling
down on you and me…
They’re singing
for us to lean
on them when
we feel weak
for they are
with us
like living beings
giving what we seek
in our friend Jesus…
Being truly
in this together
against the unruly
in the present weather
there’s still something
we hold
even though nature we
don’t control…
We’re not mere bards
but today’s troubadours
Griots of village yards…
Keys of faith’s hoping doors
singing tears of thanksgiving
and praising we’re still living…
still living…still living on
since the day we were born
for the ancestors laid the way
and left the footprints to trod
towards the change-coming day
As we continue trek onward
knowing this pitiful potus is not
the boss…
In hell, his soul shall surely rot
for our Lord Jesus has risen
from the cross!
So smile…sea to sea
with the ancestors smiling
on both you and me
still down here foot-printing:
Hey…God will take care
of us;
And so will our brother…
Jesus.
So peace be still and fear
not…
Holy redemption is here
on the spot.
Softened whispers transcend through the centuries
As they echo at night in my dreams
I can hear as they sigh when they call me
Like the ripples of soft flowing streams
They beseech me to always remember
All the struggles of so long ago
Although aeons have passed since they perished
Gifts of knowledge they seek to bestow
In my dreams I am reincarnated
Hand-in-hand as we laugh and we play
I’m not sure if they're real or imagined
I just know that they taught me to pray
Very clearly I see them before me
Then they smile as they fade in my sleep
In my mind I hold on to their memories
In my heart they all dwell in the deep
The Past, Our Ancestors Gifted Us As Our Future
There are no words we know, fragrant and green,
Wherewith to show how welcome you have been.
You solaced us with many a song-caress,
O' marvelous was your music's loveliness.
You have called back from the unknown
Lost hours our hearts would fain have held our own.
In your souls life's echoes rang as sweet
As silver bowls dream-children gently beat.
Laughter of harvest lighting and the glee
Of tingly frosty nights ran joyously.
Among our shadowed memories, when you
Revealed the gladness we are born unto.
There are no words swiftly luminous
As those white birds your joy released to us.
Such gifts you bought and freely bade us share
As kings have sought and found not anywhere.
No day will end, all of your days that be
Some far off friend will not have memory.
How you guide us from a dreary road
Into a wide and wonderful abode.
No close will come to any bitter night
But someone will live again delight.
Roused at golden touch of gracious hands
That weave in swallow-flight their myriad strands.
Praiseworthiness our children shall attain
May be no less the fruit of some rich strain.
That once was yours and gladly lingered on,
As love endures, long after you were gone.
So dear ones, fare you well, and nobly well
Beyond the rare things silence has to tell.
12-24-2015
Poem written about this past year and my thoughts as to
what my children ,grandchildren and great-grandchildren will
remember of me. As I remember that of my grandparents and
my ancestors.
Love of my family and my ancestry has made me glad to be alive.
For in all the world riches and times, I would choose no other!
In my dreams I can hear as they whisper
silent echoes reach out from the past
Everywhere that I go they are with me
memories in my soul they have cast
Many hundreds of years separate us
but through ages their forces endured
And although I may not see them clearly
generations can’t keep them obscured
All my ancestors live deep inside me
and their spirits can see through my eyes
All their thoughts are ingrained in my being
through eternity our souls are tied
Ancient scars are embedded inside me
evidence of old wounds still not healed
And although not inflicted upon me
all their pain in my heart, is revealed
You may think it is me you are seeing
and that these are my words which you hear
But if ever you did look more closely
you would know I am crying their tears
ANCESTORS
Lady Liberty
And the Lady cries:
"Bring me your lame, maime,
Your poor, your Refugees."
Came by the Mayflower
And others like her,
The first Settlers came
from near and far;
Men, women, children,
old and young.
Bellowing sails flapping
in tempestuous winds,
People courageously sailed,
Getting wet by the rough rolling
waves,
Going to America ahoy!
From these ones a great nation
arose
Hard work and toil, felling trees,
Planting crops, shearing sheep,
raising cattle,
On large expanses of land.
Now descendants benefit,
Flying a Star-spangled Banner.
Crying out with the Lady,
"God Bless America."
(Ellis Island is where the Statue of Liberty is. I was the harborr where persons disembarked from ships to pass through Customs before entering America.)
Land Of Six Peoples
"One People, one Nation with one Destiny";
The voices of six peoples ring out!
A heritage of great repute,
Customs, traditions and cultures so rich,
The Almighty allowed six peoples to evolve!
Six peoples evolved from a
Mixture of cultures enmeshing
The diverse traditions from the diaspora,
Across many seas.
Passed down from the hands of
The Spanish, French, Dutch and British,
The country's heritage is compacted
With lusty multi-ethnic views!
Put together over time, we get -
Art, craft, dance, music sculpting, basket
-weaving and more.
When meshed, these are all showy displays
Of inner passions, interwoven by an
ancestral mix.
Food umbrellas the crave for eating -
Aloo, buns, cassava bread, curry, dahl,
Dumplng, fishcake, foo foo, greens
(vegetables),
Garlic pork,homemade bread, kanki,
Methai, roti, sweetbread, souse,
Black and white pudding.
Music itself is a fanfare for creative artistry,
In dance, theatrical shows, lyrics
and composing songs.
These echo on mountains, bellow in valleys,
and cause feet to stamp
From the Pakarimas to the Rorrhimas.
(These are the mountain ranges of Guyana. The Palarimas is where the longest One Drop Falls the world can be found.)
A powerful poem, inspired by a thought-provoking storyline on a show. We are all part of the great human family and everyone is important. Our diversity is a strength. Let's embrace every colour of the rainbow. Blessings.
We live by the blood of our ancestors
(Our names are written by light)
By Michelle Morris
17/02/2024
We stand on your shoulders
Yet the water is still above our heads
When will the nightmares end?
When will black no longer be dreaded?
We live by the blood of our ancestors
Spilled time and again to save our futures
When will our blood be enough?
When will the red be a good hue?
We survive and do our best to get by
We are black magic and black tragic for their games
When will we just be part of humanity?
When will our being be good enough to be named?
For shoulders are tired, so tired, so tired
And our blood is too wise, too wise, too wise
Our magic has tried, has tried, has tried
The tears stay in our eyes, our eyes, our eyes
For our ancestors have tried, have tried, have tried
And our future is strived, is strived, is strived
For too many loved ones have died, have died, have died
And our names have risen through pride, through pride, through pride
So, try to put us in the ground, with the dust and the worms
So, try to keep us down planting cotton and corn
And we will keep rising, like the sun each day
And we will be a tribe that lives on to say
We stand on one another's shoulders
And we will learn to swim
We will hold on to the hope and dreams
For the black is the beauty of our skin
We live and we love, it's in our DNA
We share and we hold on to hope and faith
We are here together
By God's everloving grace
We've survived and we'll thrive
For we are black magic and miracles
We are the birth of humanity, the cradle of it all
We need no name, for we are one connected whole
For shoulders are wired, so wired, so wired
And our blood is pure life, pure life, pure life
Our magic is sired, is sired, is sired
The stars stay in our eyes, our eyes, our eyes
For our ancestors are nigh, are nigh, are nigh
Up in Heaven so high, so high, so high
And our future is delight, is delight, is delight
And our names are written by light, by light, by light
© Michelle Morris, 2024