Everything the power does it does in a circle
It's just like when the amphibian carried the arthropod across the river,
the scorpion couldn't help himself when he stung brother frog,
and I can't help myself when I go to the ATM and push two asians out of the way to get to
my meager wages because
by god it just feels so good to win no matter how many people I have to sting to do it.
The elders say that when raven took the sun into the sky he ended eternal night,
replacing it with cycles of sol and luna smiling on the people.
Well now the people have better lights,
pulsing and flashing in epilleptic ecstasy while noises sound from the speakers.
It often seems that I am being counted coup upon,
mocked in the eleventh hour,
And I don't even have a smallpox blanket on my person.
This bumbling hub of a casino is not where I die, where I am defeated.
But for now I will retreat,
leaving a trail of tears to my car.
-For the Chehalis indians
Circle of drums beat to hearts joined in
solemn union with the ways of the past.
The Eagle flies overhead, reminding the
Chosen People of their destiny.
Elders share wisdom with their youth,
filling them with strength to overcome
the burdens, the pale-faces have pressed
upon them.
Sacred Vision Quests show the path
the Great Spirit has designed for them.
The White Buffalo appears, a sign of
the return of the 'greasy grass'
Hope never dies!
The Chosen People live!
*Tribute to all Native North Americans, my friends, my Brothers and Sisters.....
Out of the darkness you are strokes of light
A true masterpiece of visual delight
Like you your creator is forever penned
As I look at you I miss my friend
Your heritage is clear an Indian at birth
A true respecter of Mother Earth
Your Headdress adorned by Buffalo Horns
Saddened eyes reflect how your people were scorned
Your face a true reflection of time
Your necklace is of simplistic design
Through this art there is no way to hide
You were a people of deep eternal pride
Written For Brian Strand’s “Ekphrasis” Poetry Contest. Inspired by one of my Indian
Brothers Negative Shade Drawing of an Indian Chief that I brought home from Prison. In
Prison you meet very many talented artist I consider the two drawings I brought home of
his to be two very prized pieces. For insurance purposes I had each piece appraised and
they are said to be worth around $500.00 apiece. I paid 5 Top Raman Soups, a can of Chile
Beans and two poems for them both. As far as I know I was the only one allowed to bring
his artwork outside. Being a lifer he only dealt with other lifers, me being the single
exception because I used to write poetry for his wife and children.
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