Perhaps he spoke without meaning to share,
During a dinner with societal friends;
Others may agree, though none would dare air
Something so smug, for most would offend.
Was this the goal of each of these diners?
What of the wait staff who had overheard?
Do lives distill to this simple one-liner,
And does our culture to this end concur?
But tribes believe that all should partake,
In the feast that comes from hunting success–
A potlatch from a collective grubstake.
His greediness is our era's distress.
Someday, somehow, there’ll be surfeit to share,
So that even he may say, ‘They have theirs.’
The Khasis
and their living root bridges,
woven whispers of time,
a testament to patience
and respect for growth.
The Santhals
and their vibrant saris,
each thread a story told,
a tapestry of dances,
a chorus of ancient songs.
The Gonds
and their painted walls,
stories etched in ochre,
a language of the earth,
a legacy of dreams.
The Todas
and their gentle herds
a symphony of bells,
a rhythm of the mountains,
a peace beyond words.
The Siddas
of Karnataka's hills,
a whisper in the wind,
a pearl of wisdom in their eyes,
a connection to the stars.
The Naga
and their warrior grace,
a symphony of drums,
a dance of fierce devotion,
a spirit unyielding.
The Jarawa
of the Andaman Islands,
a connection to the sea,
a whisper in the waves,
a rhythm of the tides.
The Rabha
and their bamboo flutes,
songs of love and longing,
a melody of the forest,
a dance beneath the moon.
The Bhils
and their bow and arrow,
a hunter's heart and soul,
a respect for the wild,
a harmony with the earth.
Oh, these are the things that whisper in my soul,
even in the city's clamour.
In their enduring wisdom,
I find my own.
tribes
What is said is said and cannot be undone
the white people take a perverse delight
in denigrating themselves as it should be
a fearful badge of honour
(Do we detect a certain pride?)
Every tribe of people where murderous against
incomers as they upset the balance of cohesion
and must be fought with cruelty.
Every tribe in the world has committed atrocities
even the Jews, when given a chance,
But only the whites revel in the false culpability.
Was literature, art, music, philosophy and morals
a white man's burden?
They come from Muslim countries to seek sanctuary
yet demand we shall bend to their will to respect
Their faith, at the same time, hates Christianity
trying to destroy those who gave them succour.
White people should be proud we achieved greatness
where others sank into barbary.
Black-Footed Ferrets are listed as, endangered
and are the most endangered mammals, in Northern America
They inhabit the grasslands of, the Northern Great Plains
and are the only ferret species, native to Americas colonies
Native American tribes, landowners, conservation and organizations
have given the black-footed ferrets, a second chance for survival
but habitat loss from, human density encroachment developments
and ongoing plagues and diseases, only decreases their revival
‘‘Twas in those mountains of south Scillies
lived three tribes, first was the silly Bybillies,
men wear fancy frocks, women wear frillies
second of the tribes were tough big bullies,
they were known as mountain Blowbillies
so tough they eat tons of red hot chillies,
third of the tribes grew roses and tiger lilies
this friendly group best known as Hillbillies,
wild and free never visited any big cities
one night all three tribes met at uncle willies
he had the very best barn and good facilities,
sadly a fight broke out between Blowbillies
Hillbillies and Bybillies caused awful activities,
Bybillies ate all the Blowbillies red hot chillies,
Blowbillies were all wearing frocks and frillies,
Hillbillies were all smelling of roses and lilies.
5/8/2018
Australia the lucky country but not for all,
It's time to tell a tale that's not so tall.
The country's past is dark and really no mystery,
Most people know the country has a black history.
Captain Cook arrived, things would never be the same,
Two decades later the natives felt nothing but pain.
In 1788 eleven ships arrived to occupy their land,
But the Aboriginal people said no and took a stand.
Violent acts of resistance followed, many fought but lost,
This invasion was so similar to the Tasmanian holocaust.
Harassment, persecution, white Australia's illegal activities,
More than 200 years of discrimination against Oz's aborigines.
Racking and stacking them in prison, they're living in hell,
No justice for Eddie Murray who was found dead in a cell.
Police showed no remorse or regret when Ian Ward was literally cooked to death.
And why do people celebrate invasion day?
January 26th is just a disrespectful display.
They're still suffering, still neglected, still living among violence,
The world needs to take notice of the great Australian silence.
Where are the Dinosaurs gone?,
Tracing beyond the Amazon forests,
Plants and lives loaded,
To the Noah's ship in safe,
On a head count, the tribes,
Passed the Earth in peace,in dearth and death,
Roll over the sky labs into the woods,
To save the dying noses and not the Di nos aurs!
Animals and birds enjoy no seasons,
In summer,
In winter,
In hot and shower,
Tribes wearing leaves,
Hot summers releasing me from coats,
Cold winters keeping me inside the coats,
Why?
Tribes,
Don't know,
The First World War,
The second,
And,
Not to be destroyed by the last!
Sharp contrast of totems against the gathering storm clouds
In graveyards of Native Americans, drums beat aloud
Sounds of thundering hooves on stark prairies with tumbleweed
Lightning cracks its whip, illuminating great artistry
Defiled by white men tribes rest in these havens God protects
But as thunderstorms approach, their way of life resurrects
Ghost riders in the sky forever make their presence known
Still trying to reclaim the land that once was theirs alone
And when the storms have passed, crimson clouds mark the end of day
Through the breeze tribal leaders whisper, “We still know the way.”
The peace pipes were passed around with Europeans long dead
But those who proffered peace, watched coldly as families bled
Come, if you dare, to the resting place of courageous souls
For on these stormy nights, these riders are still on patrols
The wrath of nature’s sky is fueled by the fire in their eyes
They bore a nobility that could not be compromised
Written by Diane Locksley on August 18, 2011
We think in terms of Us and Other
We run in packs together
Without our walls none calls us Brother
We are This and They are That.
This is where the hate begins
Their gods with ours must disagree
We are Fire They are Water
They all go blind to what we see.
The infidels are not allowed
To share this world our gods have made
We shall seek them out and slay them
Remove Their root by Holy spade.
The smoke arises from Their dwellings
These evils done appease our rage
Soon They shall come to set the balance
So it goes from age to age.
This is how we nourish murder
This is how we feed on hate
Victims all in endless cycles
Rape and burn; retaliate.
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