Today You Guys Are Just Going To Have To Wait
At times I feel,
I provoke the ghosts...
Of my ancestors.
Especially when I know,
I am not at my best!
And rest I'd rather get.
Than to impress with those gifts,
From which I did get,
As a result of my ancestors blood and sweat.
Never did I wish,
To sit...
In the taking for granted,
Of those I represent and miss.
But I do admit,
A feeling I provoke...
The wishes of my ancestors.
Those ghosts within me that make visits.
Awaiting impatiently to do...
Not what I want.
But what they insist!
'Today you guys are just going to have to wait,
And sit.
I am tired.
I need rest.
And rest I am going to get! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
I Want To Be A Good Forefather!
Praise be to our forefathers who toiled hard,
On the soaked infested soil to flatten and build,
The dreams of what they thought specifically apt,
to their children of their children to relax and rest.
Visionaries were our ancestors, who have planned,
The neutral policies to benefit the people to thrive,
What thought they needed, that were appropriate,
to have a happy family with money and sweat.
People have luxury as they have had the adventurous ancestors,
People lead prosperous life at the intelligence of their elders,
People have the voice to speak and force others to listen,
As they have had the adaptable forefathers who have the vision.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Haunted By My Own
Haunted by my own.
Haunted by a bloodline...
My ancestors have sewn.
And I confess...
My obsession to do my best!
This wont leave me alone.
I feel I am here,
To make their voices known.
I can not neglect a moment of respect.
To be perceived as a disrespect.
I must protect and protest indignities!
Haunted by my own.
Haunted by a bloodline...
My ancestors have sewn.
And I confess...
The challenge to please them,
Leaves me restless to achieve.
To heights of a success...
That will have all believe I have succeeded.
And my ancestors can attest,
I have done them well!
Although my haunting will continue,
Since they and I are not quite through...
To convince with proof what I am here to do!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I have often noticed that ancestors never boast of the descendants who boast of ancestors. I would rather start a family than finish one. Blood will tell, but often it tells too much.
quote by Don Marquis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Get Another Routine
This is the message...
For those still trying,
To get the same tired act together...
Forget it!
Get another routine.
At least one that appears to be,
Something that is consistent...
With the way things are today.
Revisiting yesterday with determination,
Says one thing about those who attempt to do this...
A comfort has been found in the exploration of limitation.
And the growth of technology has already made many victims.
This is the message...
For those still trying,
To get the same tired act together...
Forget it!
Get another routine.
What your ancestors did,
And those before them...
Is not going to spread your mustard.
Or connect you to those hours of tomorrow,
Flashing by your eyes 'today'.
This is the message...
For those still trying,
To get the same tired act together...
Forget it!
Get another routine.
If you are waiting to taste a sandwich wished...
It is recommended you acquire another taste.
Or select something else to nibble.
It would be wise if you tried!
I'm sure your ancestors did this...
Or you would not be here,
Discussing their contributions to your stagnation.
This is the message...
For those still trying,
To get the same tired act together...
Forget it!
Get another routine.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Cherish Those Steps Taken By My Ancestors
I cherish those steps,
Taken by my ancestors.
And I do my best...
To reflect against their shadows left.
I hold my breath,
With wishes to please.
I am here to uplift their spirits,
With a selfishness to receive...
Their blessings.
And to leave my mark,
To enlighten the brightness...
Given to me to spark,
A continued greatness...
My ancestors afforded me.
To fulfill with a belief I can and will
A destiny achieve!
And feeling proud I am allowed to labor,
In this quest with a life...
Blessed with such an honor,
That ignites to incite an encouraged insight!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Rest Might
The rest might...
Criticize.
The rest might,
Analyze the times.
But these are
Only the times to live.
And these are
Only the times to give...
'What' and 'how' we can.
The rest might...
Try to hide.
The rest might,
Cry with alibis.
But sympathies
Really do not pay.
Not even wishing
That these times go away.
Nothing,
Today will stay!
The rest might...
Close their eyes.
The rest might,
Fight themselves inside.
But even having nothing more to say...
Wont make a difference,
If all things decay...
Right before our eyes!
The rest might...
Criticize.
The rest might,
Analyze the times.
But these are
Only the times to live.
And these are
Only the times to give...
'What' and 'how' we can.
So live your life enhanced!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Some people are your relatives but others are your ancestors, and you choose the ones you want to have as ancestors. You create yourself out of those values.
quote by Ralph Ellison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Men can know more than their ancestors did if they start with a knowledge of what their ancestors had already learned....That is why a society can be progressive only if it conserves its traditions.
quote by Walter Lippmann
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Those who never protect the values of their ancestors their soul will never rest peacefully.
I’ll Change My Name
I give you thanks all my people
Congratulations,
For helping change my name
Which initials would not be known to our ancestors.
I’ll change my mother tongue and modify my Alma-matter
I’ll change my voice so you would no longer recognize my songs
I’ll cut all the favorable crops in the farm and plant in it new ones
Just like the frog, I’ll bathe in waters
In order to differ from the toad.
All because I’ll change my name
Which initials would not be known to our ancestors.
I write this to you all my people
That ignorance deserted me from my own land
And I’ll come back no more
I gave it in worlds that you could understand
In parables I left it with others that they would also understand
And tell the ancestors that
I’ll change my name which initials would not be known to them
Tell me if the ancestors are still alive,
Lying there and see you helped me change my name
Tell me if they have lost their eyes and years
That they can’t see and hear
If so, then my people, you those
Whose fire woods have reached your head load
Go and tell them, I say
I’ll change my name which initials would not be known to them.
Once men could now see and hear
That I’ll change my name;
Today that I’m felt with the muse of poetry
In my shabby cloths
I gave it out in words and parables
That you helped me change my name.
Thanks,
Thank you all my people
Congratulations,
Tell them and more handsome rewards from heavens
If not too far from you
Just because you helped me change my name
Which initials would not be known to our ancestors
But still, I’ll change my name.
copyright (c) Sep.2006 E. Korsi Senyo Kumedzina
poem by Korsi Senyo
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A Romance
He looks at me with a madman's eyes -
It's your house and porch I know so well.
He gives me a kiss with his crimson lips -
Our ancestors had gone to war in scales of steel.
He brought me a bouquet of crimson carnations -
It's your austere face I know so well.
He asked in return for a single kiss -
Our ancestors had gone to war in scales of steel.
He touched me with his finger bearing a dark ring -
It is your dark ring I know so well.
Together we tumbled down on a Turkish divan -
Our ancestors had gone to war in scales of steel.
He looks at me with a madman's eyes -
Dwindle away, o you stars, and fade, o you moon!
He gives me a kiss with his crimson lips -
Our ancestors had gone to war in scales of steel.
poem by Daniil Ivanovich Kharms
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Material World
You in your fancy
Material world
Dont see the links of chain
Binding blood
Our own ancestors
Are hungry ghosts
Closets so full of bones
They wont close
Call it upward mobility
But youve been sold down the river
Just another form of slavery
And the whole man made white world
Is your master
You in your fancy
Material world
Create in your own image
A supreme god
Your virgin mary
Your holy ghosts
Claimed to be pure of heart
Have hands that are stained with blood
You in your fancy
Material world
Dont see the links of chain
Binding
song performed by by Tracy Chapman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Father's Son
I am my father's son.
And proud am I to be!
I am his namesake.
And it is up to me...
To ensure my journey,
Reflects what to me this means.
And I owe it to him and my ancestors...
To rise above any obstacles I see.
I am my father's son.
And proud am I to be!
I will do my best always.
And face those tests with dignity.
What I am given to receive...
I accept with a will to make him,
And those of my ancestors pleased!
I am my father's son!
And I want this known to everyone!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Tasks Are Deeper Than That
It is not from a core,
Heated with an ego...
I wish adored.
My tasks are deeper than that.
My approach to life,
Keeps my ancestors intact.
It is not for adulation,
I crave to taste.
Or applause to acknowledge,
I have talents gifted...
From an unseen higher place.
My tasks are deeper than that.
My approach to life,
Keeps my ancestors intact.
It's a fact I respect my ancestors tracks.
I feel their spirits around and in me.
As if from one tree...
I am a limb with them attached.
I am here to succeed.
Not to accept defeat.
Or feed frustrations,
That stagnate my reach.
My tasks are deeper than that.
My approach to life,
Keeps my ancestors intact.
Impatient with waste.
And with those who procrastinate.
No excuses do I make...
With those who fake life.
And seek ways to escape.
I am here to succeed.
Not to accept defeat.
Or feed frustrations,
That stagnate my reach.
And no emotional limitations,
Will interfere with my deeds...
In a preventive escalation.
That within me,
Gets no empathy.
I'm not here to sob and weep,
To have insecurities of others...
Stop this stride in a movement I keep.
I am here to succeed.
Not to accept defeat.
Or feed frustrations,
That stagnate my reach.
And it is not from a core,
Heated with an ego...
I wish adored.
My tasks are deeper than that.
My approach to life,
Keeps my ancestors intact.
It is a fact I respect my ancestors tracks.
I feel their spirits around and in me.
As if from one tree...
I am a limb with them attached.
And these deeds from me I promise to deliver!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Legend Of The O Keeffes
It must be a fallacy that dead canines can fly
But of the mystery in myths and legends one cannot deny
And one legend I recall from decades gone by
Is when an O Keeffe dies in Cullen dogs bark in the sky.
The legend of the O Keeffes has travelled far and wide
They hunted with their dogs in Duhallow's country-side
And stories of them in Duhallow abound
Of how with their dogs they hunted on foot covering miles of ground.
'Tis said the O Keeffes the best hunting dogs kept
And with their wives in their beds their dogs with them slept
And for the kindness shown to them their dogs them did repay
The O Keeffes never did know a poor hunting day.
I tell it as I heard it and I don't tell you a lie
It is said that in Cullen when an O Keeffe die
The dogs of their dead ancestors bark in the moonlight
In the starry sky in the dead of the night.
You can make out of this whatever you may
But in Duhallow the legend is living today
Of when a Cullen O Keeffe dies canines bark in the sky
The ghosts of their ancestors dogs on them have wings to fly.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We ARE history! Everything we've ever been on the way to becoming us, we still are. Would you like the rest of the story? I'm made up of the memories of my parents and my grandparents, all my ancestors. They're in the way I look, in the color of my hair. And I'm made up of everyone I've ever met who's changed the way I think.
quote by Terry Pratchett
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Truly makign weary
It was all said and not done
Wind blew with speed and gone
Left behind deep scar and sweet memory
There is no time to feel sorry
Nothing has changed not even courtyard
Where cuckoos appear in morning with sweet melodious words
The language speak of love with no specific title
But we take it granted as appropriate and suitable
I need not look at sky
Leave under uncertainty with so much feeling of shy
That lovely memory resurfaces and makes me uneasy
Even though I pretend to be active and very busy
What do I miss even today?
His elegant style of living and beautiful way
Gentle approach and mild steps forward
I was sure of not looking backward
He will storm me in peaceful manner
I will give up my way no sooner
As it has come to me after long struggle and wait
I will not attribute it only to fate
I need rest and permanent refuge
Where no one can come and refuse
I seek all seasons with equal participation
Rainbow must represent it will lovely indication
Everything changes except very good heart
That God has given to us in the form of art
You miss a person for all the times to come
Even if missed in life still you welcome
Almighty might have not wanted all this
Only we made ground for ourselves to miss
Otherwise where is compulsion to leave and feel sad?
Stormy days may not end even if we feel good or bad
It was healing touch that gave excitement
Full of joy, happiness and total commitment
What we missed actually was presence of common enemy
That was taking us away and truly making weary
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Afrikaner genetics (in answer to Koos A. Kombuis)
Maybe wild trees grow
the yards of your ancestors,
their worth have become nothing
like stale salt,
their faces are yellow
and most of them are squint,
they walk without words to nowhere
but I have a God that stands with me
and my ancestors,
with brave men that do not disregard their duty
who do not imagine them above others
who had chosen their wives
out of a people that God himself planted
and your insults of my people and me
make me raving mad, worse that just angry.
[Reference: Afrikanergenetika (Afrikaner genetics) by Koos A. Kombuis.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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My Ancestors Still Speaks
Hear the Negros from my ancestors to the generation of young Blacks
Americans proudly say: Our black is united together around the world,
different ethnic backgrounds together we are one.
Our black stands strong through the evil of racism and diversity
Our black is bold
Our black is free
Our black lives on
My ancestors still speaks.
poem by Anasha Greham
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Ghosts
Oh, these Ghosts that haunt me, nightly, tearing at my soul,
These screaming, wailing, moaning ghouls, my senses do appall.
My sleep is wrecked, and torn apart, my silence is undone,
And all I see are shadows, where the nightmares have begun.
Then come, oh come, and do your worst, I will not share your pain,
If I can't rest, then nor should you, bound up within your chain.
You shall not load your guilt on me; your terror is your own,
Though heavy weigh my sorrows, they weigh on me alone.
What dreadful crimes have you committed, to be treated thus?
And who gave you the freedom, now, to visit them on us?
Or are you just reflections of the way we all must end?
A mirror of the harvest reaped, is that what you portend?
So, in my sweat soaked sheets I lay, my Ghosts for company,
The Black Crow on my windowsill, waits patiently for me.
I do not seek redemption, or an Angel's sweetened breath,
I've courted Sin throughout my life, and take it to my Death.
Yet who has claims yo innocence, in thought, or word, or deed?
And who among us sin soaked wrecks, have souls that shall not bleed?
So when I go I'll join these Ghosts, on their eternal quest,
To burden others with their chain, and find eternal rest.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
poem by Owain Glyn
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