#genealogy
genealogy
family tree treasure hunt—
come to your census
Dec 9, 2019
Dec 9, 2019 at 3:46 PM UTC
Why do I want to
Learn Tibetan
Why do I want to
Lear dazongka
Why do I want to learn
Sherpa
And uyger
To connect to my
Ancestors.
Apr 2, 2019
Apr 2, 2019 at 4:08 PM UTC
Escape from captivity pulled off
when I came of age
boyhood begrudged,
and bested by brigandage,
but willpower sans declaration
of independence begot bravery
against British brutes
bridging caper (involving collusion)
to bust loose from cage,
and trappings forcibly to plunder artworks
and sculpted treasures
by classical masters
without causing damage
taught by professional thieves
requiring minimal equipage
whereat over time footage
sordid memory constantly replayed
plunder and pillage unwittingly
fostering getaway
from hell raising gambits
planting seed to gauge
optimal instance cut footloose
cutting dashing Dickensian goniff
to feign criminal shenanigans
running rampant with militant spunky gangs
"FAKING" das spies zing
trumpeting hostage killing
and taking, nonetheless
swallowing bitter pill
reeking havoc as honorable image
in order to survive
within world wide
web of criminals (especially
an unwelcome foreigner),
where skills as buccaneer
really put to test, and tried
maximum lawlessness partaken
in (dolled up) guise suppressing shied
pitifull looking indigent vagabond
self away by donning
"FAKE" whippersnapper
benefiting getting to sally and ride
always exuding patriotic pride
pleasing ghosts of founding fathers
against their autonomy from
crown weathering woe be chide
recrimination impossible
to enforce as bride
of Lady Liberty opened arms for those,
who made dangerous journey
across avast ocean
only to confront (whodunit) thuggery
this lifestyle ****** looting,
and burning WITHOUT choice,
but guilt aye didst abide.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Retrospective many generations since
marking birth of a nation
(The United States of America),
now mecca, sans land of milk and honey
current president imposed antithetical ration!
Jul 3, 2018
Jul 3, 2018 at 6:00 PM UTC
On this hillside where the homeless rest
The Song Sparrow bursts into psalm,
Reciting beautiful exclamations to the heavens above
For the forgotten souls that are concealed below.
In this place called Potters Field lay one million souls
Unknowns from 200 years ago....more & more arriving everyday.
Nestled thickets of wild trees hold these memories past and
Shadow the headstones with prayers inscribed.
How could one small place hold so many forgotten souls?
How could we have forgotten those less fortunate than us?
Saint Benedict's tear filled eyes scan the field
As he try's to to make sense of what has happened.
Lift up your eyes New York and make your voices heard.
Don't let their memory fade away.
God holds a special place for these children because....
In the Kingdom of God....
The last shall be first.
K.E Carman 2016
Apr 9, 2016
Apr 9, 2016 at 1:45 AM UTC
As I peer across the Mountain range of my life,
I see a vast array of peaks and valleys,
Roads that wander near and far.
Some roads seemed unsurpassable,
Some roads were thought to be inconceivable,
Some roads I felt were unapproachable,
And I see them all as landmarks in my life.
The one road in the very middle of my lifescape,
The one that's known for being less traveled,
I so often avoided and I don't understand why.
Some roads seemed impossible,
Some roads were thought to be infallible,
Some roads lead to intimacy,
And I see them all, good or bad as milestones in my life.
Standing at the base of the mountain top,
I feel a presence encouraging me to climb the summit.
My breathe becomes heavy, my limbs are numb but my mind is focused.
Advancing the summit, I pull myself above the misty clouds,
Peering below I find oceans of generations that have gone before me....but were never forgotten,
And one stands at the forefront, with arms outstretched, an unforgettable smile, and love thats unending.
There's only one road that leads us to an island universe where we live on forever past fatality.
All roads have the same waypoint which leads us to forever.
Close your eyes and imagine a place that does not judge and only loves.
K.Carman 2016
Mar 7, 2016
Mar 7, 2016 at 11:17 PM UTC
To move through genealogies
consider what it takes
The blood of those before
you filled with all of their mistakes
And what you've given into will uncover how you came
A sort of inquisition to eradicate your name
I called myself "the others" if I staggered or destroyed
Made everything inside of me
so purposely devoid
If not by my own doing
then by those whom I had known
To whom I was connected, thought, believed I could call home
Today's a separation
I have never known before
Or one that I'd forgotten
since I leveled with the floor
There's nothing on the bottom but I cannot seem to look
Much further than the dirt of earth, the silver that I took
The people are in pieces
and my head tries to compare
So often I can only find
the source of our despair
I go to bed in cycles
I can barely seem to keep
Awake so long I wait for dreams
to make me fall asleep
If anyone can see me or engage my busy head
I'll breathe before I speak again, let life be what is said
May 27, 2015
May 27, 2015 at 8:53 AM UTC