#descendants
III.
It took time for me to see
That it was neither them nor me, but simply that
She
never stood a chance.
For Her trunk in all Her unbridled glory,
was bound in chains,
choked out by debris
Long before Them, or Us,
or Me.
At Her inception, before
She could grow old,
the last sip of Her sap stolen,
drained, and sold.
Yet
Pieces of Her stand here to behold,
pieces of Me,
young joined with old.
Though broken as We are,
We’re a beacon of hope;
We hold secrets and memories,
stories and names,
and one day I, too,
will dance in Our shade.
Be it in vain, I will try
till the wind comes for me;
I’ll try to name Them,
praise Them,
to set Them free.
I vow to nourish, to prune, and ****
restore what I’m able,
and take only what I need.
To tie Our trunk to Our branches—
and Our branches to Our leaves.
To honor Our roots,
ever trembling,
in the deepest parts of
Me.
Feb 22, 2021
Feb 22, 2021 at 7:54 PM UTC
Rubayiat Al Thurab (Verses of the Dust) – 9
BismillahIr RahmanIr Raheem
The Noble descendant’ always finds its roots towards his Noble descendants!
Allah Khair….. Khairul Rabul Alameen Yah Arrahmanur Yah Raheem
Ummah Thurab – Badshah Khan.
Feb 4, 2019
Feb 4, 2019 at 4:49 AM UTC
Kith and Kin…by Jessie 12/05
Thicken fog on a Scottish moor; names of past called out
McClure clan in black watch kilts; ghost that stroll the hills
The night so dark; the moon asleep;
A trek imprinted in every mind
A walk taken year by year, since the start of time
Candles lit to mark each name, and cut the congealed vale
Faces glow; in each eye a tear, as the generations kneel
Thirty years times thirty, now to present day
Kith and kin, circle round the McClure stone to pray
Every eve upon this date, the ritual of names
The list is read from first to end; then passed and read again
From the oldest man to the youngest child, the names will pass each lip
Then the McClure goblet, passed around, from which all descendants sip
Once every name is read aloud: the empty goblet turned
The sheep skin parchment tightly rolled then tucked within its sheath
Placed within the wood carved box; another year to keep
A tear is wiped, the flames extinguished; all receive a hug
Quietly, all’s disbursed; single file they leave
Nary another word is said
The long trek back, is for the clan, to reminisce and grieve
Feb 7, 2018
Feb 7, 2018 at 11:07 AM UTC
My parents have been making a fortune,
Decent enough for my survival in future,
If in case I am rendered disabled ever.
But if I am not going to be disabled ever,
The heirloom will surely remain heirless,
I am scared of a prospective partner.
Rather live alone than getting ditched,
Ditched by inferior heartless humans,
I prefer leaving a heirless heirloom.
Dec 15, 2016
Dec 15, 2016 at 12:36 PM UTC
You bleed it out and let it drip down
The body that is left
tortured by the sorrows of
a fool who's life transgressed
I can see the wounds are left open
though that isn't what you said
You carry on thinking you're healing
but you're leaving a trail of death
On golden shining days, you can see the light
But when it comes, the storm you ride you let it sweep you away
Oh I want to find a way to tear open the sky
To show you all there are no strings
You can live your life
Oh I need control
So I think I won't lose my soul
to the nothing I can't see
why are they looking at me
Oh I need control
A time will come when you realize
You're wasting precious time
Speaking out about the change that's hindered by your breath
I don't know if anyone's told you but I feel you won't accept
That the broken ones can only stay broken
if you blame somebody else
On golden shining days, you can see the light
But when it comes, the storm you ride you let it sweep you away
Oh I want to find a way to tear open the sky
To show you all there are no strings
You can live your life
Oh I need control
So I think I won't lose my soul
to the nothing I can't see
why are they looking at me
Oh I need control
Love, La La, Love, La La Love, La La Love
No I won't let it go
not until my grave
that's what they say
So Show go on and show
Show off your pride
See what that does for you
May 12, 2016
May 12, 2016 at 9:17 PM UTC
when I die
I'd like my ashes to be made into a diamond.
that way when the jeweler shapes it and sets it in a pretty ring for my beloved's grandchildren/descendants
that will be a better rendition of me,
a properly shaped, smoothed and polished human-that-was.
I like to think all the bad qualities I know I possess would be pared down to a socially acceptable version of me that you would, finally, be proud of.
Jun 16, 2015
Jun 16, 2015 at 1:34 PM UTC