"Talking Leaves" fasinated Sequoyah
A Cherokee who accomplished great feats
In noble deed stands tall like a sequoia
Though lame fought beside Jackson no defeat
Success in battle 'pon warrior's horse
Winner in defeating illiteracy
He had an alphabet to endorse
After ten years effort deliberate
When his enlightment brought light, joy flowed
Then the Cherokee printing press spread news
Knowledge spread and troubled brewed discord sowed
The beginning of the "Trail Of Tears" diffuse
Sequoyah intelligent lone warrior
Battled to make his tribe superior
Sponsor: Shanity Rain
Contest: Native American People
Written: November 12, 2013
A SMILE OF TEARS
I wish I could catch a star
was the voice I heard as I sat on the grass
I look through the meadow
all I could see was her shadow
Walking up close
her mouth ajar, I could see her white teeth
A gash on the left side of her face
she touched, felt with a loud wail.
Her heart bitter
I could see its emptiness
Sickly, she stole a glance at me
like a dog peeping through a window
All tears, she shook bitterly
even though her eyes were hard as flint
Sitting next to her, like a couple on a date
I hold her arm and lo! Soft was its feel.
Sullen, heartbroken, painfully
she smiled at me sweetly
On the wet grass sitting
together arm in arm we gaze into space
the air cool, calm
even though it was covered in a haze
face clouded with tears, gay with life
I could see smiles setting on her left cheek
Happily, I smile back knowing
I had enkindled the hope she had lost in the murk.
Deserve the world my child,my son
If I could give, with heart I'd run
Pray instead, I must for you
Placed many tools to get you through
Life ahead unknown my son
So much I wish, your dreams ignite
Strive for all, please shine that light
Become the man I know you'll be
But please for you and not just me
Dig deep inside with every might
Strive for all thats due, you'll see
Deserving much from world, not me
Kindness, compassion, intelligence too
Owning these gifts, build confidence in you
By example, trust, live life for thee
Accept these words I give from me
My child, a man will come to be
Imagine a world where nothing matters
Think about it for a second, really
No questions like, was it worth it anymore
Not seeing the point of a world in tatters
Consider; if no one felt any fear
And people with confidence and no doubt
If they carried their dreams above themselves
Knowing how useless, all that they hold dear
Envision this world of variety
A kaleidoscope that creates a self
Picture each individual lonely
But deep inside there is homogeny
Day after day the cosmos continues
Then a final day where nothing matters
©david byrne jan 2013
We Will Not Comply
I never thought I’d live to see the day
When children would be taught that God is dead,
The flag we love, someone would take away,
Or leaders in corruption share a bed.
It matters not to me who ridicules;
I am American, I will rebel.
I’ll keep my God, my guns, my right to use
Free speech the truth to tell.
We never thought to live in tyranny—
Just to stand for truth could mean your life;
We need to recognize we are not free—
We will not save our country without strife.
Will we rise and claim our liberty
Or take the lies and bow to slavery?
She waits in silence for him to come back,
Knowing better than to ask where he's been.
When stumbling in with a bottle of Jack,
She knows at that moment it will begin.
Another night painted purple with proof,
Though she swears she'll leave him every next day.
Staring right through his eyes she stands aloof,
Not even bothering to plead or pray.
Like water lets the wind take all control,
She becomes a stone wall, flinching never.
Appearing strong but by an empty soul,
She wishes only to sleep forever.
She now lies still like a rock under Earth.
Neither one knew what value she was worth.
December 18, 2012
Beautiful lies known as little white lies
yet one is no more deceptive than each
The truth is what makes it afraid of light
It's important we practice what we preach
Imagination built on lies destroy
Imagination built on truth create
Conquering evil we try to avoid
Tooth fairy, Halloween, Santa abate
Perceptions and images make it real
Origins of Pagan rituals true
We've wandered down this path for a bum deal
Now more lies are created all brand new
The mask behind a beautiful white lie
is the truth with a constant shield, but why?
Morning beach caressing white sands and waves
Murmuring the forgotten song ready to roam,
Towards the lonely rock , paradise of the young waifs
With volatile desires and dreams, all gone.
Vulnerable verdure near living volcano, a hot place
Cast by a fleet of green clouds on yellow skies
Where misleading light showed the fate`s lace.
The red flame goes kingly down, until sunrise.
Kindliness, on an empty beach smiling to man;
Knitting covering the sides of the rock calls life in.
The hot rock will knit the smoking brows again;
It makes signs towards the graceful sea with green skin.
Like an inward song for a deaf beach somewhere,
There the volcano seems asleep in a hush of salt air.
what makes the heart feel for something it can't touch?
his tears caused contractions for his heart to pulse
floundered, looking for loves heartache to clutch
whimsical solace of her essence startles his impulse
shouldering the bane of a kiss that foreshadowed trifles
kooky huh? how time unleashes emotions restrained behind pride
losing his beloved inamorata to an admirer she mollycoddles
his heart became friable to the echo of her suicide
It was the absence of a note that left his worries unverified
what makes the heart feel for something it can't touch?
Now alone and without; a lovers heart is mummified
he will never love another as much
the “ghost orchid” has become her epithet
the rules of this game have changed, misère ouverte.
I chose Bonnie Raitt “I can't make you love me” because when I listened to it it brought
back memories of my childhood feeling second to my fathers work. His physical presence was
always their, but his heart belonged to his work and still is. After listening to the song 5 or 6
times I thought of the question, what makes the heart feel for something that it can't
touch----like love, and went from there.
I face the final test of nature's truth.
The nights coming fast, I travel unheard.
The reverence I feel, was born in my youth,
tempered by sage, burnt offerings for birds.
Tormented by brambles whose thorns I collect
I come to remains of struggles long gone,
feathers and crushed bone, on these I reflect.
I'm hoping once more, my arms are still strong.
A pine marten scurries, close to my step,
the sweet scent of birch gum, his claws unearth.
My arrow's still sheathed, for creeks I have leapt.
Though I grow cold, my spirit is re-birthed.
Tracks at the creek, the water I savor
the thicket moves, my aim must not waver.