Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god

Independence Day 3

Birdsong invisible,
Cedar smells sweet.
Sage is smudging,
The moon I will greet.
Grandmother song,
A story to weave.
Grandfather sky,
Moments so grieve.
The Creator I see,
Sun smiles down.
The creator I hear,
Tears and a frown.
Darkness and stars
And smoke and greed.
In days we become
A saddened seed.
Fabric of creation,
Am I so sane?
Denied difference,
Fear of fame.
Eye of the heart
Watching souls.
Deceiver’s beware,
Deceiver’s let go.
Webbed in future,
Present in past.
Free from homage
Runaway fast.
Indian tribalism,
Disintegrates now.
Replant these seeds,
The field we’ll plow.
Cigarettes and booze…
And Indian dreams,
Asleep in the moon
Or so it seems.
Reservation in darkness,
Seclusion is bleak.
Rain falls slanted.
The sky has a leak.
Killing try,
Relentless people.
Tree of peace,
A mind so feeble.
Cobwebs reign
A spider’s peace.
Desire rains,
A prayer’s piece.
Reservation public housing,
Leaky faucets rotten floors,
My mind, I’ve lost it,
My heritage, sore.

July 4, 2004
Suge


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Independence Day 3

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