Best Ancestry Poems
Burning in black flames of eternal woes,
my heart yearns to find answers it's needing.
Skin begins to wilt like a winter rose,
bruised from deep wounds of internal bleeding.
Haunted by sad soul's whimpering mourning,
shards of hope crack like dire demolitions.
Stumbling and crumbling without a warning.
An endless demotion of emotions.
Hail of tears plunder on marble tombstones.
I question the deceased for explanations,
but beneath the earth they have become bones.
I turn to the skies to express frustrations.
Taking back my pain, so pardon my pleas,
as I raze the roots of my ancestry.
I am the cornerstone
In the legend of timeless Oaks
That so profoundly stand alone
Magnificent in strength and age
A noble guardian of longevity and resilience
My permanence and stamina
Is willed to rise above all other trees
Yet hold the ground deeply rooted
And take my solemn vow of continuance
As the sovereign commemorative
To the ultimate power of eternal Mother Earth
I enfold the spirit of the Origins
Spread over fields of enduring horizons
Of timeless Suns and Moons
And shifts of transformation
I hold the secret of this beacon of wisdom
This core of breed and birth
For this, the Tree of Life
I am the last - the only future
I am the heritage seed - the acorn
Given to shed with the passing of time
As the chronicle offspring of ancestors
To be reborn in the singular act of purpose
To reach far in my branching to the sky
As the gateway of earth and heaven
April 27, 2020
The Last Acorn Poetry Contest
Sponsored by John Lawless
Yesterday, I took out my new quill pen and
a bottle of ink.
I sat down at an antique table,
lit a half-burned candle and dipped my quill;
I wrote on a yellowed pad of calligraphic parchment.
Swiftly jettisoned into the past as,
the room began to change;
the table appearing to be brand new,
sported different legs.
The candle sat burning in a silver holder
instead of a cheap aluminum one.
This had happened before;
this visit to the past and
I had found an ancestor there.
This time, I found myself;
a writer in a past life;
penning olde English…
imagine that!
I'm not quite sure when
they first arrived by boat
stepping onto Ellis Island
which is in New York,
alls I know is that my
ancestors came from
Germany, Wales and Ireland,
probably in the 1850s
or around that time,
when a lot of immigrants
came to New York with
barely a couple of dimes,
escaping their countries
from all different kinds of plights,
the ones from Ireland were
starving from the famous potato blight,
settling down in cold water flats
in different Brooklyn boroughs,
a lot of my ancestors working
printing presses while some of
them were plumbers,
I'm sure they were afraid
when they first came to
the overwhelming "Big Apple,"
and looking for work was
probably stressful and
pretty cumbersome,
in my minds eye I often
think how it might have been
for all of them,
walking around the big city
searching for the American dream
while trying desperately to fit in,
but somehow they made it
and rose above all the strife,
and thanks to them their
future ancestors like me have a
much better life.
It was my ancestors who gave me
My spirit's glowing flame;
The image of grace, and an angels face
And the message of my name.
But it was all the men I loved
And not my ancient sires
Who put in my heart a flickering flame
And the dazzling rainbow fires.
I always wanted more from them
Than they were willing to give;
But now we go our separate ways
Each with different lives to live.
As the wreckage now is burning
That's found in the crimson blaze;
There shines in the sky’s blue splendor
Sweeter and brighter days.
One-hundred percent Italian descent:
four grandparents crossed the ocean, went
through Ellis Island, from Italy sent;
my Italian roots, one-hundred percent.
But D N A samples now tested, ruled-
genetic ancestry can have you fooled!
With full Italian descent overruled-
gene structure in me- completely retooled.
Dumbstruck that percentages showed so clear
my pie chart was sliced- not a full sphere,
my mind was lost in this new-found frontier,
and wiped out ideas that I held so dear.
Through tests, my genetic past now revealed,
sixty-four percent Italian did yield!
Thirty-six percent now unconcealed
some ancestors came from lands far afield!
Mid-Eastern, Caucasus, Iberian too,
Some Jewish, Scandinavian, plus a few
chance Irish genes to mix up the brew.
My former beliefs are now so untrue.
But, soon I accepted this new-found me,
like others amazed, as shown on TV,
surprised, but excited as I can be-
with a varied, colorful, mixed ancestry!
April 19, 2017
Contest: Dumbstruck
Sponsor: Charles Messina
True facts: I received my Ancestry DNA
test results on April 1, 2017
Homer,Chaucer, Shakespeare, Keats, Eliot
Soyinka, Okigbo, Osundare
Now me, recycling human ideas
Family history
Is mostly a mystery
To those researching their genes
Your DNA tree
Does not seem to be
Worth more than an hill of beans
Women toiled in the clover
With Neil Down and Ben Dover
And though it could be a bother
Despite every fear
DNA makes it clear
Someone had it in for your father!
We share 98% of our genes with chimpanzees,
92% with mice, 44% with fruit flies and 26% with yeast.
We also share 18% of our genes with weeds.
This proves without a doubt scientifically
that all life here on earth share a common ancestry.
In the Arctic, the skilled technique and art of building an inukshuk is passed down through generations of Inuit tradition.
a proud lineage
a compass
~ in the setting sun
Published in my photo/haibun anthologies ~PRIMITIVE~ 2019 and ~ANCESTRAL VOICES~ 2019
AP: Honorable Mention 2026, Honorable Mention 2023
I, being the single expression of self
Except, I can no longer be expressed as one
For I am many; a legacy begun
Progenitor of generations to come
Am I the beginning? No not I
for I am of another who was of another
I could not exist without the person of who before me was
and you could not exist without I, who before you came
I am more than self, for my life is not a singular identity
for life flows from me
The History of Black People,
And all of our People should be celebrated
Year-round: every day, week, month, and decade.
The celebration should go on unabated,
All the time. The first couple,
Ever existed, had dark skin, said
Many credible historians,
Archeologists and great citizens.
The month of February is evidently too short.
Twenty-eight days are not enough,
To commemorate our Brave People, who've fought
And defeated ignorance, bigotry and slavery.
Three hundred and sixty-five days are not enough,
To honor the struggle of the Slaves who were brought
To different parts of the world. A century
Is not enough. Many centuries are not enough.
We need, every single day of the almanac,
To celebrate, to remember the first Black
Couple, our Ancestors,
Our Brothers and Sisters.
Copyright© January 2017 Logerie Hebert, all rights reserved
Hebert Logerie is the author of several books of poems.
Her memories lost, she can't identify her family from the family albums.
To Trump's great delight
His parents were white
But just out of spite
Could researchers cite
An African knight
Where DNA might
Age milky white
To make it alright
For Blood-Quantum white
Or would that incite
A flight or fight plight?
Embodying the human spirit, the inukshuk can serve as a spiritual symbol, a ceremonial site, a place of worship, a place of judgment and decision making or a site to gather and celebrate. Regardless of their function, inuksuit are venerated by the Inuit for their history and ancestral value.
sacred touchstone
hub of present and
generations past
Published in my photo/haibun anthologies ~PRIMITIVE~ 2019 and ~ANCESTRAL VOICES~ 2019
AP: Honorable Mention 2020