Generations Poems - Poems about Generations

three generations of mothers created a fourth- mine, my children's, my grandchildren's between the late fifties and April this year I have welcomed thirteen births- my three five grandchildren, five great-grandchildren generations unfold in ways of the times as...

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The tree of life has roots to the beginning of time infiltrating depths unfathomable lost in the nebulae of bygone memories the illusion of neat lines soon tangled in a fog hiding stories obsolete and long forgotten Diluted storytelling buried beneath fresh tales and soon hazy with its clouded details the feats out of mind fade into oblivion facts turned to hearsay are...

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Violence, a physical behavior intended to hurt someone. Violence, the strike from his hand to her face. Violence, the screamed threats as she cries. I try not to panic. Violence, was it intentional or did he just lash out? Violence, is his word true beyond a doubt? Violence, he tells us that he’s sorry. I try to believe it. Violence, the unlawful act...

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Nothing but the dead and dying back in my little town Nothing but the dead and dying back in my little town In my little town “My Little Town” by Paul Simon My Town I walk the streets of my hometown, the prodigal son returned for a visit. I wanted to see the old place after forty years away. My first stop is the...

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Cars, we never had the luxury of cars, We would endure harsh conditions just to get to places. Places, we never had sleek structures, Our buildings were made of mud, unconducive for learning. Learning, you complain of stress, The only things we had were books. Books cause we never had the internet, We would sweat in the library just to get facts. Facts,...

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It’s a broken world we need imperfect solutions and there are plenty of questions is it even possible to correct systemic problems with individual solutions? I recycle, so everything’s ok, ya? some would usher in a revolution while others would stand pat, thinking they can marginally beat the house the young believe the old are problematic, out of touch and largely to blame for the...

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North Pole __________ When my only path is the light, I want myself, My ashes, To be thrown away. To be raised by the wind, Strangers made. So i may be a way, To the North Pole. I may unit by the stars, Making a generation That knows dirt, Is not worth. Maybe a zodiac, Maybe a sign, I will be. Nations pass, My loved ones pass, I will see them, Near me. We can...

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Snot nosed, barefoot Chanting, walk the streets Spit flies from mouth, food on cheek Green, ripe, and free Dirty and unkempt Unbridled and unmanageable Wild child Dolls and toy trucks Mudpies and hopscotch Bugs and jump rope Torn clothes, holes in socks Scraped knees and mud on shoes Marching on, they're marching on They're marching on Drums rattle, off beat Out of tune flutes, cowbells and slide whistles Ringing bent triangles...

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I often ponder about the perpetuous anathema in my household, because growing up, that abominable behavior was quite normalized. I’ve always heard derogatory, disrespectful remarks or comments, God, they’re so standardized; my conception was that being unique deserved aberration. Though, younger me questioned why I only heard these discriminating words and bigoted lies in my own house;...

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I stand on the grounds once treaded by my Ancestors I represent countless generations gone Before me The soils are bathed with their tears and blood My fore father's once once stood on these Hallowed grounds But their spirits urges us on to carry on the Torch (Written 10th March, 2024)...

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I’m tired of influencers faking nervousness. my generation wants to care less these days. it’s a counter-current hack. we want to be less defined. we can search and reflect for ourselves. we’re sick of the emotion that’s all over everyone’s faces, the unsightly splotches of opinion. the entire election machine, the process of getting there, is smudged. It’s a curated mess, an advising spin, an incomprehensible hex: “Oh...

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toddler on a swing giggles flowing out like hiccups grandmother's heart soars to the rooftops two generations loving each other experiencing the joy of life on a windy autumn day...

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Generations come, generations go War and Death are what they know... In defense of land blades of grass, grains of sand Men battle for their very lives ...

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Every drop of water, Every breath of air, Every blade of grass— Whispers the same truth: We are but custodians of this planet, Entrusted with its care For generations yet to come....

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He walked her out of the door he knew what he was doing he lived the same before in the streets the cry of a broken soul laying down half dead and alone. The unconsciousness of many lives generations and generations of many lies trying to hide an elephant trying to be blind to the pain we all carried inside. Jessica...

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