Editor

For any editorial feedback on this website email me on: kodjodeynoo@gmail.com

Site Statistics

1,220 Literature Posts. 5,410 plus Individual Comments..300,000 plus web site Hits..715 Individual Members. Be a part of the movement, click and join this site. I appreciate my followers and they get a pride of place on this site.

Please support and join this blog

Sunday, 10 March 2013

The sins of our forefathers


The sins of our forefathers 
Would not survive past our reign 

As fruits we were held delicate 
On branches of the family tree without blemish 

We dangled green and we grew with age count 
We gained weight and substance hold 

We matured and became ripe as apples 
To be plucked by birds or another 

To be weakened and bound in transition 
To fall to the ground as humble 

Alone and vulnerable we rot to the ground 
To relinquish our old define 

To the seeds that sit in our hearts 
To the soil that entombs us 

Until we find our selves no longer 
Protectorates of our forefathers 

We grew as trees, with branches wide
To bare fruits that dangled as off-springs 

They would not know the sins of our forefathers
But only as heroes who once lived 

And carved this route, a lego brick wall 
With the blood that flows in us 

The sins of our forefathers 
Would not be known past our reign 

It is as tradition demands, a humans 
Not to speak bad of the dead 

For no saint walked this earth as clean 
As allowing heroes to be made of our forefathers 

7 comments:

  1. I like the use of trees and fruits as symbols of generation and death ~ No saints would walked this earth so clean ~

    ReplyDelete
  2. I like the way you have set out your idea in the couplets. The central metaphor is very effective.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Very powerful poem.

    ReplyDelete
  4. it would be nice if the generational sins of our forefathers would end...if we could break free the cycles of life and forge new limbs on that tree....

    ReplyDelete
  5. Nice to visit your work again...
    I loved these lines..
    To relinquish our old define

    To the seeds that sit in our hearts
    To the soil that entombs us

    Until we find our selves no longer
    Protectorates of our forefathers

    Here's to you breaking the cycles of the past and breaking free...

    ReplyDelete
  6. For no saint walked this earth as clean ... true! Life moves forward, and it's best to let the past be just that - it's OK to revisit and remember, but we can't change anything. Interesting, thought provoking poem.

    ReplyDelete

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...