An Unwelcome Guest
In an attempt to unravel a past unknown. What would my ancestors think of me? What would I think of them? Would I be welcome? An abecedarian.
Ancestral hearts, unmet - unseen,
before the days of those we touched,
cross lines of time to stand between
darkness and the light they clutch. As
evening falls on this hallowed ground,
from midnight through to breaking dawn,
grisly ghouls, from graves unbound
harvest souls of unworthy spawn.
In this place where bones turn dust,
jackals feast on unkempt minds,
kneading morals into rust,
leave no empathy behind.
Mortal lives are gained and lost,
never knowing right nor truth.
Ominous spirits, unseen cost,
putrid stench of breed uncouth.
Quivers echo in screaming hearts, who
run from pasts they’ve never seen.
Shimmering glances of paths to chart, where
tombstoned lies exist between.
Unnerving whispers soon forewarn,
visions of torture and death unkind.
Wicked screams from blackened maw, of
xanthous creatures with vengeful minds.
Yearning truth from history, my
zealous pursuit - the end of me.
***
My brother took this picture and several others at a cemetery he visited in our home province. It's on a small island off the coast and holds the graves of many of our ancestors, some as far back as the 18th century (and maybe even before.) I've never been there myself, and know nothing about the people buried there.
Unfortunately, our grandparents passed when we were very young, and our father's generation didn't know anything about our history or the people who came before us. But since it's October, and graves are "cool" this month, I decided to write this poem. Hopefully, my ancestors would be more welcoming if we really had a chance to meet.
*For Mike's October Challenge:
About the Creator
Cathy holmes
Canadian family girl with a recently discovered love for writing. Other loves include animals and sports.
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Day 4 of Quitting
If this is how sobriety feels, maybe it’s better to go through life a little buzzed… this, along with other hits like, I want to kill myself, I wish I was dead, and I’m going to throw myself off a bridge have been the only thoughts on rotation these past few days. I promise myself that if, in a month, I still feel like this (‘this’ meaning despondent, full of rage, and simultaneously numb) I can go back to smoking. Until mid-February though? Nicotine is off the table.
By sleepy drafts7 days ago in Longevity
Comments (14)
Dark and deep thoughts. I only knew on grandmother briefly. All went before i could meet them. So, I get this one. Really.
so pure
I'm left speechless Cathy!! Just so beautifully written!!
I started my ancestral search with a DNA analysis on 23andme. There were so many family mysteries solved and so much I gleaned about the characters and lives of my bloodline. A worthy and time-consuming endeavor.
All I can say is wow - you've got such talent.
Wise, beautiful and a little spooky. Like always your poetry wows, Cathy!
Cemeteries can certainly inspire some contemplations! Loved this abecedarian!
This is a brilliant concept deserving of a Top Story
So evocative, Cathy.
I live the rhythm of this 😁 I read it twice, once for the beautiful language, and again just so I could tap my finger on the keyboard in time 😁
Such a splendid poem that plays off your picture perfectly. Well done.
Stunning performance poem!!! Love it!!!❤️❤️💕
A poem that is frightening and fond by turns! Who we are must, to some extent, be shaped by who our departed forebearers were, for good and ill.
"xanthous creatures with vengeful minds." Piers Anthony horror! Am thinking grisly centaurs.