On the trail of tearful dreams
Buffalo returned
And sacred waters ran pure
But those dreams were burned.
Yearn for the sublime
For the rainbow’s paths were true
Once upon a time.
Under the Shade Trees
A poem from the new collection On Driftwood and Oblivion
I once lived there, under the shade of those trees
Peaceful and happy, never hurting anyone or anything
Why do you say these vile and evil things about me?
You know not what you speak, or whom you speak it for
We do not have the means to wage war that you have
And so, we move like the wind, but neither here nor there
I hope you enjoyed the shade of the trees you took
No, I truly do. At least before you cut them all down
Read more in On Driftwood and Oblivion…
Standing Bear
A poem from the collection On Driftwood and Oblivion Niobrara ripples, defying time’s marchThrough endless drops in clouds of grayLearned hunts on wings of restless eaglesDid those dust worn skins have no say?Standing Bear is a person is he not? Fire danced heartbeats upon dying …
Read MoreFor Wounded Knee
A poem from the collection On Driftwood and Oblivion Ghost Dance nerves for blackened steelSpotted Elk lay deadNo slow drum beat for each shotA mass grave instead. The Buffalo GhostEver roaming barren plainsLife’s endless outpost. Read more in the poetry collection On Driftwood and Oblivion
Read MoreThe Original Green New Dealers
Here is my Latest. We should have learned long ago of the importance of protecting our environment here in America, since its original inhabitants were already living green as a way of life. I am currently reading what was always one of my mother’s favorite …
Read MoreInto The Flame
In a steel guitar bearded dream
You came to me in the darkest night
In a vision within a vision supreme
Knighted are you before the fight
Ghost dancers turned back time
Of pale horsed riders with frosty faces
On warm blooded thoughts so sublime
Inhaled whispers left few traces
Underground railroads on the trail
Of a whipsawed chorus of children’s cries
On sterile neon moon rock hail
In the darting probes of quicksand eyes
East west feet trampled dustless roads
The great father peddling golden fraud
On horn rimmed dragon’s heavy loads
And endless gibberish of travels abroad
The buffalo’s now wistful moan
Trails the jet’s smoke trail blame
Books of wisdom now flesh and bone
A forced march ends into the flame
Sand Creek
Whispers thunder still, Sand Creek winds whip true.
The horses gallop, as a sad refrain.
Maheo’s tears cried out a blood-soaked rain.
In peace, the U.S. flag and white flag flew.
This meant nothing to the devils in blue.
For Black Kettle, peace brought a heavy pain.
Whispers thunder still,
Children heard crying, in the morning dew.
Oh, senseless massacre of such disdain.
How does humanity escape the brain?
Though the wailing and bloodshed are long through,
Whispers thunder still.
Another Broken Promise
A poem from the collection On Driftwood and Oblivion The small one spoke truthThe small one was seen no morePeace forever gone Read more in the poetry collection On Driftwood and Oblivion
Read MoreTen Bears
We were the Green True Deal
You were the blight upon the earth
Ever marching with a vicious zeal
We knew the running water’s worth
We roamed as the harmonious earth turned
At one with the Eagle and Buffalo
You brought thunder as villages burned
And a trail of tears watched the land go
We spoke of peace among the tribes
With eloquence and wisdom’s tongue
You split the tongue with lies of scribes
The ink flowing from your fingers stung
We desired no blood to stain the ground so pure
But purity never once landed upon the shore
We know not what will bring your final cure
But, the songs of Ten Bears are no more