native american

CHUMASH

Look up

 

I say to you

 

LOOK UP

 

LOOK UP NOW

 

LOOK UP

 

LIFT YOUR NECK

 

RELAX YOUR JAW

 

BRING FACE TO MEET THE SKY

 

OPEN YOU EYES

 

FEEL THE LENGTH OF TIME IT has

 

Truly BEEN

 

SINCE YOU’RE LENS HAS

 

GREETED GRANDFATHER SKY

 

ADORED THE MOON


FELT LITTLE AMONG HER COUSIN STARS


Aging they are away from youth

 

Fading

 

FROM VIRGIN GLOWs

 

THE BEAR STILL PLAYS WHEN all

 

Is TURNED TO DUST

 

7 SISTERS BURN TO

 

THOSE WHO DWELL IN SPIRIT

 

studied we are by the

 

MAYAN CAT Lingering tail

 

 the MOON

 

REIN THE BLACK QUEEN

 

BY NIGHT SHE GIVES THE COMMAND

 

TO HER TWO SPIRIT WARRIOR DREAM

 

AN WITH A BLAZE

 

She blankets the Amber, violet, golden, honey suckled RAYS


MORNING BREAKS THE YOLK RISES

 

INTO the YOUNG MAN’s SUN

 

COMMANDING WITH HIS HEAT

 

LOOK UP

 

The Disco arrives upon the ocean

 

As they dance on the waters FACE

 

DO THEY DANCE

 

LOOK UP

 

WATCH THEM MOVE

 

OF YES,

 

THEY REALLY JIVE

 

LENON,

 

DID HIS PART

 

IMAGINING

 

FOLLOWING THE CONVERSATION

 

STILL HE RIDES THROUGH THE CANALS OF OUR EARS

 

FOLLOW THE CONVERSATING

 

ACTION BEGINS WITH YOU

 

GOES BEYOND THE LANGUAGE

 

THAT LIMITS US TO WORDS


LOOK UP!

 

From the damn phone,

 

From a screen,

 

From you car where you yell at the CAR ahead,

 

That pulsates animalistic FEAR,

 

FROM WHICH YOU IMPRISONED YOUR BODY TO

 

RUSH TO WHERE YOU ARE GOING

 

BECAUSE YOU CLEARLY ARE NOT HERE

 

LOOK UP

 

IF YOU ARE WALKING

 

FOLLOW THE CONVERSATION WITH YOUR FEET

 

LOOK UP! FROM YOU DAZE

 

Sleep walker FOLLOWING a MAP

 

THAT You were already BORN

 

WITH EVERYTHING YOU

 

EVER NEEDED TO

 

GET TO THIS

 

MOMENT IN YOUR LIFE

 

LOOK UP

 

YOU GET TO BE HERE

 

STOP BRUSHING THE DOG AWAY

 

LOOK UP!

 

IN HIS EYES

 

STARE A WHILE IN ANCIENT CONNECTION

 

LOOK UP

 

TO RECEIVE ELECTROMOTIVE FORCES

 

IN THE COPPER EYES OF A DOG

 

VOLTAGE ASKS NOTHING BUT TO FLOW THROUGH YOU

 

WE EXIST I GUESS TODAY

WILD AND FREE LIKE THE DOLPHIN

THE EAGLE

THE COYOTES

 

THE BEATLES

HUMMING BIRDS BY YOUR

SIDE BY YOUR SIDE

THEN IT S ALL OVER

SAYS THE ONE DAY LIVED LIFE

OF A NAT FLYING BY

MEET THE BEASTS WITH THE EYES

FEEL THE BARK FROM THE

 

VERY SKIN THAT BREATHES TO YOU LIFE

 

WITH THEIR ELIT


LANGUAGE

 

THEIR HAVE CONDUITS OF ANCIENTS ELECTROMAGTIC

CURRENTS PASSING THROUGH

 

AND WILL STILL


CONNECT FAR LONGER

THAN THE DAY


WE DIE

 

LOOKING INTO THE ANIMAL

 

WHICH IS YOU

 

MIRRORING YOU

 

THE CONDUCTOR

 

ASKS OF YOU

 

LOOK INTO HER EYES

 

SPEAKING TO HIM

 

INTENTION AND TIME

 

YOU STARE

 

UNCOMFORTABLE YOU FEEL FOR TAKING A MOMENT LONGER

 

YOU BEGIN TO FEEL THE POWER

 

LEVELED BY A DOG

 

YOU IGNITE SURPRISE

 

RECOVERING YOUR ANCIENT TRUTH

 

THAT YOU HAVE HAD ALL ALONG

 

NOT DEEP DOWN INSIDE

 

JUST AT THE CHOICE

 

ATTENDING TO THE ACTION

 

LOOK UP!

 

THAT’S THE PARTICULAR PLACE

OUR CREATOR

PARTICULARLY RESIDES

 

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

stream of conscioussness 

On The Trail of Tears

Folder: 
Life
 

I look to the long road behind
My heart is heavy with my people's sorrow
Tears of grief I weep - for all that we have lost
As we march ever farther from the land of our birth

On the Trail of Tears 

Mile after mile and day after day
Our people are fewer with each rising sun
Disease and starvation take a terrible toll
And though we suffer
Nobody to remember us, still we march on 
united in one forgotten breath 

On the Trail of Tears 

I watch my beloved weaken and fall
Upon the road like so many before
With tears in my eyes I hold my baby to my breast
And in my arms he breathes his last.

On the Trail of Tears 

Mile after mile and day after day
We march to a land promised us forever
And forever always comes to soon for my people
But I know that I can no longer go on
I know that is a land that I shall never see!

On the Trail of Tears 

As my body - it falls to embrace the earth
My spirit - it soars to greet the sky
With my dying breath am I finally set free
To begin the very long journey towards home

On the Trail of Tears

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Gitche Gumee Gambol

You make me want to go up to Gitche Gumee Gambol.  Pictured rocks speak to me, in drumbeat vibrations, calling me to the Ojibwa shoreline.  Amid the splintered rocks, clear water shoals reflect a mirror of naked unguarded self.  I am a luminous spirit dressed in humble flesh.  I walk in graceful steps, my footprints the stamp of existence.  I listen to the rustling of the caterpillar eaten leaves amidst the hills, the rolling thunder of cloud people across indanthrene northern skies.  This is the profile of my ancestors.  At night the stars ignite like campfires across the plains at a distance lodge.  I climb these sandstone cliffs ascending into copper, iron and manganese.  Kneeling in sacred prayer amidst the promontories and thunder caves.

Growth Abundant

Sounds of tribal drumming around a campfire sound,

Feelings of wonder rise as the natives dance around.

There is a comforting certainty within the shamans feathered mask,

Should you ever doubt anything, all you need do is ask.

Heads up: a storm is brewing.

Enormous black clouds above are looming.

The wind has picked up to tremendous speed.

Beautiful shapes and colors are seen.

The fires flicker as she stands watching,

Drum beats resound heartbeats thumping.

Judgement day may be upon her,

She trusts in no one until she is sure.

Poisonous thoughts run through her mind,

As the rain pours down into the pipeline.

She sighs: Will life always be this awkward?

Gathering her strength, she straightens her posture.

Why won't they just be frank?, she cries.

They've filled my head with a variety of lies.

An ocean of thoughts entered her mind,

as feelings washed over of the jealous kind.

She grasps the shovel and begins to dig,

Loving the warmth it brought to her rosie cheeks.

Tenderly she kneads the earth,

With hope in her heart as she places the seeds.

The rain continues to fall: she wonders what will grow.

Tonight's moonlight will be just right for these particular plants

Shoveling a spoonful of dirt, she fills in the hole,

as four tiny mice run across her toes... and it tickles

She giggles at the happening and begins her imagining

of a bountiful harvest just before first snowflake falls.

~~Collaboration by Healingwoman & b.n.souza~~
~~July 4, 2013~~

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Poetry Prompt - On a slip of paper write a list of 15 "free association" words. Use the 15 words in a poem. Variation: Create and exchange a list with another person. Then use their list of words to write a poem.

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A Journey

A JOURNEY

The night-stone, carefully placed
in the small bear skin pouch,
discusses drum beats with
amulets, charms, powders and
even a small wren’s yellow puff feather.
All creating within the power
of his ancestral soul.
This small obsidian,
chipped and flaked smooth stone
held along its edges the
blood of the animals
sacrificed to keep him alive;
giving him their spirits,
their views on how the Mother evolved
as well as their precious
shapes as he passed
from one world to the next.
His bag was rich medicine
and served him well.

~~~
He stood looking over
a vast valley plain
and could hear the stream
wrinkle smooth the rocks
as its mountain waters
continuously flowed.
He could see the honey bee
making love to the poppies
and clovers as well as the sweet daffodils.
He could taste the pine needles
dance on the musky,
early morning soil after they
were awakened by squirrels
looking for a game of tag.
And he could feel lightly
the sway of Oak trees
moving slightly by the
notes two hawks sung
circling, whispering, hypnotizing
their wary prey.

~~~
Looking out over this
green smelling plain
he could feel the vision swell,
as guided by this trance
he searched his pouch for
the blood star he had captured
one spring day while
riding the back of old Turtle.
Looking out over this
amber hazed horizon
he felt himself walking
talking with Grandfather
asking the meaning of rain,
wind and snow that carried him
gently to Big Mountain.
“Grand Father,
where is the beauty?
Where is the peace
above and below us?
Grand Father,
why are we still blind
to the wolf’s howl
and the cawing of the crow”

~~~
Standing atop Big Mountain,
holding in his left hand
the red star cloth
he begins his journey.
“Grand Father,
let the wind beat
this drum of resistance
that is our human essence;
let the rain soak our hearts
cleansing us worthy to find
the path of snow and its soothing
warmth to make the Earth whole.
Grand Father, I only know
Babylon must fall.
And this crimson star,
dripping with the people’s tears
can lead us back to the heights
of Big Mountain;
to the beauty and peace
above and below;
to our long lost whale songs
sung by the night sky
and seen in our children’s eyes.”
Carefully placing the medicine bag
around his neck,
holding it and smiling,
he takes the first steps....

Iroquois Winter
aka: redzone
(writen 9.13.01)

Author's Notes/Comments: 

The Manhattan Indians used to live in Manhattan. They used to exist as a people. One of my ancestors married a Manhattan woman (he was Dutch). This was before the Dutch and other Europeans, in the name of god, and of course "civilization", extincted them. This poem flows from this history.

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"The Trail of Tears"

Look over there,
Just across the stream,
Do you see it now?
That majestic oak tree,

Under that very tree,
Many seasons ago,
My father taught me,
To make arrow for bow,

And over great hill,
Great wide open space,
When first leaf would fall,
Harvest dance would take place,

Down in the meadow,
We follow small creek,
To hunt many deer,
Sometime for many week,

This is our land,
This is where we call home,
The forest  and fields,
Are all that we know,

The mighty bear spirit,
Whispers wind through the land,
He shows us the balance,
Of animal and man,

When salmon swim north,
Eagle and Bear spirit see,
We  hunt with the understanding,
Take only what need,

New people of this land,
Know not of our way,
They take without mercy,
To the spirit that gave,

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Dedicated to all my Lakota people...

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Dance in the Moonlight

The moon hangs above the ground, leaving behind it's silver light
In the Plains I seem them dancing calling my name.
"Come Bright Spirit" They call out to me, "Join us as we remembr days long past"
I hear the cries of women and children, as they sing to The Great Spirits of the Earth.
I hesitate, not knowing if this is real or a dream.
I close my eyes and remember.

I remember of days when life was simple, as the Plains People roamed with the Buffalo.
I remember of the sounds of men and women and small children, talking and laughing.
I can see the village and I can see the people, my people, my ancestors.
They smile at me and I know I am home.
They smile and I know I belong here.

I can see the large bonfire and I can see them dancing around it.
I feel the pulse of the drums and I feel myself moving to the beat.
We move around to the natural beat of the drummers and the voices.
I lose myself in my memories, and I open my eyes.

It was nothing but a dream, but the memories stay alive
We must remember who we are and where we came from.
They will not beforgotten, for they have not been.
They live on in us, and hope for a better future.
So long as we remember, they will never die.
Their voices are echoed through our action.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I had a dream about my heritage though I don't remember much I do remember waking up crying. I dedicate this poem to my people, The Cherokee Indians and my ancestors, I love you all!