Archive for geneology

A Criminal Act

Posted in My Poetry with tags , , , on August 2, 2010 by echostains


alas..not mine


A Criminal Act

I am amazed at how many photographs, letters which should have been kept by a family have ended up in total strangers hands.  If a person holds ancestral photographs which have nothing to do with their family, wouldn’t they make it their business to find out who’s these albums belong to (clue: the person who last lived in the house…).  How could someone throw other people’s old albums – images of someones ancestors in the rubbish bin!  Yet it happened to a relative of mine and not for the first time.  Some people must have no conscience.  The albums mentioned were pictures taken of my ancestors by my Nana who would group her nine children, light the camera, run round pose with them AND develop the photographs.  They were inadvertedly left in a loft in Liverpool and when the relative missed them, was told by the new owners that they had thrown them out…..

They don’t belong to you

Yet you can accept their custody

As your right to bin

And dispose

Of my right to my ancestors

High handed,

Blind, misguided

Insensitive one

Who so casually

Disposes of someone elses family history

Of which you have no entitlement

No empathy

And no right

But by default

My memorials, pictorials,

Chronicles and images

Have ended up in your careless hands

My ancestors stand in front of your future

And curse your careless hands!

©Lynda Roberts 2010

Found photo from this blog thanks!

Poem: Bloodrush

Posted in My Poetry with tags , , , on July 6, 2010 by echostains

'Infernal' by Lynda M Roberts BA Hons

My father came from a huge family, consisting of 7 brothers and one daughter.  The competition and arguements among them was fierce.  Through tracing my family tree, I have been able to find all my many cousins – and the stories and memories abound.  We have all agreed to forget about what happened in the past generation.   Our time is now and we shall not carry on like our father’s did.  This poem is about this:-


Track back starkly

Sarky, in the womb

Like home.

Sticky winged,

The flies have flown

The birds have left their nests

We are confessed

The total of

The left – behinds,

To soar and swoop

The scattered cups of squabbles

Left behind

By blind people

Who, by default

bestowed the gift of light.

And with our might

We shall congress


© 2010 Lynda M Roberts