Many moons ago,
a languishing lamentation flow
carved a grievous path
in the red soil
Defying moral gravity,
downtrodden fallow weeps
flowed upward to the heavens
With river Nile ease
Native American Exodus
wasn’t done willingly
Oh, how the Five Nations
were saber led forcibly!
Time traveling eyes
need not ask why
Oh, why does the Crow cry?
Ask rather,
why did the crimson-winged Eagle
tell a bald-faced lie?
Many blood moons ago,
there was an Abib scarlet woe flow
Rapid gushes
making a slow, sorrowful path
Towards barren adobe Reservations
Defying logic gravity,
nether voices
offered an uprooted exchange
Trade Choctaw fertile land
(whereupon Creek footfall doth Seminole stand)
for Chickasaw burial sand
Miry ground
to baleful irrigation
live sadly on
Trail of Tears Exodus
was a lamentation overflow undertaking
Oh, how the Five Nations
were talon misled horridly!
Perpetual Cherokee tears
for the living dead is levee heartbreaking
Posterity passenger eyes
need not ask why
Oh, why does the Crow cry?
Ask rather,
why did the granite-hearted Eagle
let so many weary souls die?
Categories:
seminole, bereavement, native american, sorrow,
Form: Narrative
Laying here in the cut with eyes closed,
listening to the soft, tinkling sound
of the Oriental wind chimes
My mind is calmed by peaceful meditations
In my heart, I feel universal love ...
rhythmic beat of African drums
Dark continent chants,
majestic silence of Mt. Kilimanjaro
heard off in the distance
And in my soul, I feel a new song being composed
It's for a family reunion occasion,
invitations offered to my brother and sister Caucasian
and Asian
Now, I'm feeling an Islandic, Inuit and Indian spirit
rise up in me ...
Polynesian and Caribbean,
Aztec and Mayan,
Sioux and Seminole,
Navajo and Crow,
Anasazi and Apache,
Iroquois and Cherokee ...
all shouting in unison: Love is unity
Then, I open my eyes to the truth
of a future time,
as my ears hear the serene sound
of the Oriental wind chimes
Categories:
seminole, humanity, love, peace, visionary,
Form: Free verse
Mohawk, Mandan, Kikapu, Cree,
Yakoma,Seminole, Crow,Shawnee.
Arapaho, Chippewa and Sioux,
Mystical names to me and you.
Names like Delaware, Fox and Paiute,
Listen to their music on the flute.
Lakota, Macuna, Omulgee, Nes Perce,
Yuma,Nakota,Ossage, Washoe, Hualapai
All names that should never ever go away.
Many now confined to history, sad to say,
Mans greed for land that was not theirs,
Caring nothing for the Indian affairs.
Starved and defeated they were moved away,
Now are conveniently forgotten up to this day.
For 400 years the remainder has cried,
Who is going to pay for this act of genocide.
Man will never right this wrong, or even admit,
To the atrocities that they did commit.
Sacred Lands abused all the way through history,
Hundreds of tribes that roamed from sea to shining sea.
All long gone now lost to you and me
So many nations will be no more,
But their names live on and their spirits soar.
Remember their music and listen to their song,
Then their culture and memory will continue long.
Lest we forget. My offering of Remembrance
for the Native American Indian peoples.
© Dave Timperley 20 September 2016
Categories:
seminole, america, discrimination, eulogy, holocaust,
Form: Rhyme
Untold
By Nate Spears
Published 2013 in “Death OF A Rose” By Nate Spears
Today time is unknown
Tomorrow I declare throne
Sitting
Hoping
Wishing
You could see into this wrong
My prolonged unhappiness
Is unborn
The first minute
From the first start of life
I was faced against the odds
Placed against my fears
A prisoner of my tears
But I’m here
So I must go on
Descent lies within deceit
Power lies within defeat
A victim of my heritage
Witnessing the destruction of lives
Family and marriage
Adopting the ways of the Seminole
Running into new heights
Reflecting on my strategy
Near the coastlines
Where most die
With a final desperate attempt of determination
I run my fingers through the traces of Satan
Exploring his mind
Exploring his design
Now with all my might; and smarts
This devil must die
Through intelligent thought
Education, and votes
The story must be told
To the unknown nation.
Categories:
seminole, history, journey, life,
Form: Rhyme
My Saint John flow on
Through forest, marsh and town's spread
Tablecloth of stars
Conquistadors gone
The blue herons walk alone
In moonlight's silence
River and lone night
Memory is a wind's hope
Rustling swamps for gold
Let us keep our thoughts
In slow meandering lakes
The salt sea invites
Less Timucuan
Waken find us new remnants
In Ferdinand's dream
Love wilts in salt tears
The heart snakes the bush of grief
Tense as beauty stares.
Waleka, Rio
De Corrientes, Rio
De San Juan, the same
A gaudy green thrill
Peace sanctuary of births
Life from life flowing
Still at Sawgrass breast,
The Seminole blood of strength
I from Afric's tent
We the better ore
Than gleaming figment of fort
Lovers on this shore
Sea abandoned child
Scarred and aching love consoles
Tributary feasts.
O otters swim deep
Beneath the currents I weep
But a shrimp of tear
What is gone is gone
The sun makes still day's new dawn
Oceans carry on
Ships cargo joy fresh
As pines from which warblers sing
Magics of today.
My Saint John flow on
O'er fertile grounds of sweet love
Blooming moonlight still.
Categories:
seminole, allegory, nature
Form: Haiku
As you drove out the Cherokee the Chicaaasaw the Choctaw the muscogee- creek and
Seminole,
so Iwill drive you out.
"I am the lord your God who brought you out of Egypt;
I will Make you Live in tents again,
as in the days of your appointed feasts
I spoke to the profits,
gave them many visions
and told parables through them.
you have awakend a smoldering anger
and i am ageinst you; will you steal from the poor
and do it in my name
will you take the bread of the needy
and trample my laws in the dust
you have awakended my smoldering anger and your time of judgement is drawing near you.
God says: I am against you who steal in my name :
private airplanes ,and boats , a motercycle sent by an anonymous supporter.Vacations in
Hawaii,and cruises in Alaska..desiginer handbags, a ring of emeralds and diamonds
"
God knows where the money is....preached mrs Copeland"
Categories:
seminole,
Form: I do not know?
I am one of the disposessed
you took my land from the north
east and west
you took my home and you
took the best,
how can my broken heart rest?
you ran us south to the
dark endless sea
to live in the swamp
to survive and be free
seminole people
to renegades be
how can my broken heart rest?
there'll come a time
when we'll go home again
a time when our troubles
will blow like the wind
a time when I'll say every man
is my friend
and I'll see all those broken
hearts mend.
Categories:
seminole, loss, native american, heart,
Form: Lyric