The quiet jungle
The tribal keep
The river still
The river deep
A flash of day
The night is done
And we are moved
– And moving on
Like rolling stones
Who do not know
They have been thrown
We only knew
We rolled alone
And rolled until
We rolled no more
– And then were still
As quivers hold
The arrows bold
Until they feel
The tautened bow
We held, we held
Against our will
The primal spell
The bitter pill –
For what we stood for
For what we were
A startled leap
On a falling star
A midnight drive
In a polished car
To the curling river
Where we cried
In ancient tongues
Where we stirred
The ancient musings
Of the young, the young
Who rolled the stone
To the river deep
The rolling stone
The tribal keep
TRIBAL TATTOO REGRET-:-
permanent
geometrical
monumentum
intertwining
symbols
inked FLUIDITY ETCHINGS
emblazoned
Tebori
linework
scarifying
pigment
in ZIGZAGGING ALTERNITIVES
patternization
timeless
unwanted
laser
removal
Every drum beat being a message
Tribal togetherness in strength
The beat goes on
Dancing to the Ancestors who came before
Showing the way
Tribal accent
The sun shining its ultimate brightness
Keeping the darkness of foes out
Tribal Legends from the past
Being Tribal lessons through the years
The drums are beating loud and strong
Evil can’t touch nor take away
Intertwined in the tribal spirit
Merit in soulful
The rise in pride and honor of Navarone
Walking through the solid ground of courage
Tribal dancing in continuous hope
The embrace of tribal love
Distance back then seemed far
Ancestry dignity follow
Destiny within the tribal hearts
Hearts to hearts being determined together
Navarone strength in unity
They stand for the ancestors who set the course for Navarone
Indian rustic values
Navarone will always rise
The culture validated for life
Tribal truth
For generations to come
Drums will continue to beat
Will never give in into defeat
Dances are our true souls and destiny our holy feet
The Moon that parallels, and the stars that gather, Navarone now and forever more.
As some Indians
(dot, not feather)
go to great lengths
to ingratiate themselves
by obsequious behaviour
(bob your head if you agree with me)
could it be the origin
of the expression,
'To curry favour'?
Tho' hunger knows no bounds
forget the fatted calf
despite the nation suffering
from starvation by more than half
they'll curry a horse
but not a cow
those bovine ungulates
are holier than thou
a tribal totem
power animals honored
cherished spirit guides
bear and little moose
pintail duck deer cardinal
heartfelt ancestry
As some Indians
(dot, not feather)
go to great lengths
to ingratiate themselves
by obsequious behaviour
(bob your head if you agree with me)
could it be the origin
of the expression,
'To curry favour'?
Tho' hunger knows no bounds
forget the fatted calf
despite the nation suffering
from starvation by more than half
they'll curry a horse
but not a cow
those bovine ungulates
are holier than thou
Across the city the emperor called
For recruits to join the legions
Travel to new and strange lands
And conquer for covetous reasons
As sun beat down they trained their men
To fight for colonisation,
Taking with them skills and knowledge
Introducing urbanisation.
Past mountains, lakes and plains they marched
Battalions stood United
Crossing countries, rivers, sea,
Arriving uninvited.
Invasion, yet they brought with them
Progression, innovation;
Technology since lost in ages dark
Transforming a whole nation.
Roads of stone, heated floors
Domestic sanitation,
Walls dividing tribes and clans
Fuelling aggravation.
Yet Britain’s climate, wet and dour,
It’s warriors and chief,
Sent Rome’s great fighters fleeing home
Struck dumb in disbelief,
That this small nation could be such
A hostile, retched place,
And Rome needed protecting
From the Jutes and Angles race.
So after Constantine’s withdrawal
Britain re-emerged anew,
Rebirthing of a greater nation,
Than the one the romans slew.
Left behind their legacy
Culture, architecture
But no longer an unwitting, oppressed,
Out-posted prefecture.
Time is different in its fulfilment
Yoruba status is unique in its path
Western education isn't enough reason to activate its abandonment
Black soap is good for bath
Worthy is informal education
Which equips the brain scans
I am made unique in its adaptation
Well enriched in the history of my clans
Face of the earth
Mask of heaven
Ritual to death
Done in seven
He was not arrogant, but he was proud.
A protector, a good listener, a wise man.
He watched and waited, did not rush.
The best tribal chief we had ever seen.
He did not take sides. He listened.
He let everyone speak.
His heart was full of empathy.
But he was no push over.
He was a man who heard.
He listened to his heart.
He was a listener.
The best tribal chief we will ever have.
Once jailed and bailed
Virtually mental saw scaled
Angry aggressive and hyper
The crotalinae hypnotic striker
Cold blooded terrestrial Sanseki
Whitish echis carinatus sochureki...
Life is a game with snakes on every level..
Wearing our tribal skirt
I’m reminded of my grandmother
who has bequeathed me rich distinct cultural heritage.
Adorned with our traditional costume
my heart is pleased, imagining my Lola*, my Mom’s mother
smiling delightfully, beholding her granddaughter proud of her roots.
Midst the nostalgia brought by such clothing
I see myself beside Lola’s bedside, listening to her
as she would vividly narrate heroic acts of fellowmen during the war.
Having in my possession a so-called “heirloom”
my gratitude to Lola is intensified through virtues instilled
by Mama, reverberating with, “I learned those from Nanang**.”
Praising God for His blessings
I’ll value the piece of treasure I inherited
my Lola has passed on, along legacy of a good name.***
*Lola-the word we use to address our “Grandmother”
**Nanang-My mother’s term of endearment for “Mother.”
***Proverbs 22:1 A good name is rather to be chosen than great riches, and loving favour rather than silver and gold.
March 15, 2021
1st place, "I Remember" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Malabika Ray Choudhury; judged on 3/17/2021.
I fell to Earth , one of many with an army to begin the mission of hope, that their is a future here on Earth , listen to her heart beat ... Our Rainforests are burning , our church of medicine , without our heart of our eco system there will be no Earth for Heaven...
I hope and pray that quantum sparks a thought and asks the question soon ... there’ll be no quantum to discuss if we can’t see the moon.
Did Jesus choose his avatars to be connected to the cross ? Christ Consciousness is a choice .. free will I believe , it comes at a cost .
I am looking at the world through the eye of a lens and am concerned about what might be coming through me garden fence ;
Being a countryside tribal witch, a matriarch of hedgerow craft , I listen to Mother Earth the rumblings of her wrath ... The Lens I see in my reality , the question I then ask ?
Who are the avatars did Christ choose in his teaching class ?
My tribal is my life
That i recognize
My family is my love
I just can't live without them
I can't live without their love
I have mother
Who is angel
I have a father
Who cares for me a lot
Connects my heart to family
I have a younger sister,
Who loves me to the core,
I am very blessed to have such a family!
I don't recognize
What would i do without them
I love them so much
I recognize that I always love
My family is my tribal
I love them because
They really make me whole!
Wrapped in crisp white sheets, happily protecting themselves,
Brown tribal Amazon butterfly trees, release pink and white faeries.
Promoting sun's sweetness, nourishing spring's sweet song,
Delighting angels, who are waiting, to collect them into heaven.
Making spirit proud, with their wide open love fingers,
Warming up verdant grasses, gentling the sleeping flowers.
Brown tribal Amazon butterfly trees, protect the gentle growth
Of a pleasant and notoriously beautiful garden, yet to appear.
People pledge fealty
To nations in tribal belief,
Waging wars of power and greed
Plant the xenophobic seeds,
Right wing, left wing same old thing
Lends itself to being extreme,
I won't let this divisive nature define me,
It's the cause of humanity hating,
It's the reason for the fighting,
Over power and territory,
Over old religious stories,
In the name of valour and glory,
Same old ignorance it just bores me,
Lie about the wars causes
No cause is can justify genocide,
Or oppressing other peoples lives,
No cause can make death legitimate
There is no honour built from hate,
You can keep your violent ways
Left wing, right wing all the same,
Religious dogma always to blame
I won't partake in your tribal games.
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