Historias de Roots

A short story of the woods. A letter. A group of friends around a fire.

This poem tells the story of the most meaningful journey my mother and I have ever taken. My dad always dreamed of visiting Ireland, meeting his relatives, and seeing the land where his ancestors lived - but sadly, he passed away before he ever got the chance. So we went for him. This is my account of the family we met for the first time, the kindness that welcomed us with open arms, the breathtaking places we visited, and the quiet, sacred moments that will stay with me forever. But most of all, it is about something I felt with absolute certainty the whole way: Dad was there with us. Walking every mile, seeing every emerald field, and sharing every joy - right beside us. Everything described here is real. Every welcome, every laugh, every tear, and every stunning view - it all truly happened. I wrote this so his dream would live on, so his story would be told, and so I could say: we brought him home. Turn the page, and walk this journey with me.

A nostalgic, vivid memory of annual family trips to Puerto Rico, as told through the eyes of a child who felt truly at home on the island.

This is poetry drawn from emotions we all may have felt - the quiet thoughts that sometimes slip through our minds and become real in our actions.

Athazagoraphobia is the fear of being forgotten Sometimes I edit, sometimes I forget. If I spell something wrong, please let me know. Comment you guys. Love you all ♫♪♫~♥Skylar♥~♪♫♪

Sequel to Roots. In working progress.

Barring global societal collapse, an anthology of competition entries for 2019's Smackdown should be growing here. Each story is based on a set of prompts by @LayethTheSmackDown Tuck in for a serving of space, tragedy, and possibly robots.

This a collection of poems inspired by the story Roots by Alex Haley. (Currently being edited)

Everything Psychology You could be extraordinary, if you chose.

"Letters of Connection: From Strangers to Family" follows Emily Turner, who, after discovering her birth records, exchanges heartfelt letters with her biological father, David Reynolds, a librarian living with his partner Sam and four cats. Through their correspondence, they forge a deep connection, ultimately deciding to meet in person to solidify their newfound bond and embark on a journey of belonging and love.

The Shannon Thread is a celebration of our family's journey-from the ancestors who paved the way, to the wonderful reunion that is about to bring us all together. It's a story about how a simple search into the past can turn into something incredibly alive. For a long time, our shared history lived on computer screens, made up of pixelated names, old dates, and distant photos. But this August, those digital frames are fading away to make room for the real thing. Spanning from the woods of Pennsylvania to the streets of Glasgow, this poem follows the threads of our heritage as they pull us across oceans and borders, right back to the emerald fields of Ireland where our story first began.

In a hollow within the mountain, rows of ancient bodies lie in wooden cradles-neither rotting nor at peace. They wait in eerie stillness, their hollow eyes fixed on the dark, as if their deaths were only a pause before something yet to come.

When you feel hopeless and it seems the world has ended, there's no respite left. This poem is about a hopeless girl who's blind and cannot see her pain yet wants to be the lucky one despite the bad luck she's gifted with.

How easily forgotten roots By james a. galgano Pot belly pig climbing in a tree. Searching for a hive to get some honey. Alas none could be found. Now all are without a home or country. A lumber jack came and cut down the tree. With the pig precariously clinging to a hope. But such hope left in search of better forever refugee. Looked down upon as drain on some nations' economy. Never realizing they were once in the same boat once upon invading newfound land. Wreaking havoc upon the many tribes livelihood. Colonizing then nearly eradicating almost every native culture. While giving false hopes with broken promises in every signed treaty. No mind is paid to their own illegal immigration from sea to shining sea. Until their invasive culture spread its genocide while claiming some blessing from deity. Flash forward to today where new migration heads to so called promised land built upon the back of working class and abhorrent slavery. From 1619 forward with uncontrollable ferocity claiming god was on their side in such endeavors every effort designed to reject this new refugee. Such continued genocide sought to limit and/or eradicate the influx in the name of a golden calf statues liberty Now can be found a lonely pot belly pig climbing in a tree. Still searching for a better tomorrow built upon trust, sharing embedded with enshrined freedom and equality.