Native Americans

by

making soup from bones…

Making Soup From Bones

as i picked up
the groceries
for thanksgiving
the brown bag prophet
said
as i hurried
to my car
now don’t you find
it interesting
that on this day
of
thanksgiving
when the descendants
of the pilgrims
will eat
736 million pounds
of turkey
that the very people
that made it possible
for them to be
survivors
in the first place
will have
50 percent
of their
children
go to bed
hungry
not just today
but
everyday
now
ain’t that
something
to be
thankful
and
proud of

by

brainwashing….

braiinwashing

cowboys
and
indians
a childhood game
where
no one
wanted
to be
the indians
because
every child
knew
you
couldn’t win
it was
an understood rule
demanded
and
administrated by
society
a rule
that served
as the only example
of a treaty
ever
kept
by these
united
states

by

ain’t that america…

Digital Image Based on Photograph by Eren Emre Kanal

Digital Image Based on Photograph by Eren Emre Kanal

they took
the ring dance
and
made it
into the hula-hoop
sold it
for millions
while
native americans
starved
the
american
dream

by

cliche lives…

copyright cwmartin 2012

beneath this city
lie the bones
of fallen warriors
despised in life
ignored in death
their dreams
no more than
faded pages
in history books
childhood homes
cannibalized
into parks
with exercise trails
punished by
overweight merchants
slimming down
before feasting
at macdonalds
tree roots embrace
cradles of unborn children
still in the womb
savages saved
by good christian soldiers
just following orders
words to be repeated
every time men
impose their will
on others
not knowing
that they
like all before them
shall be placed
in
a common grave
called
earth

by

more washington rumors….

 

oh for the love of god
i need to get packing
i heard some folks
in washington
are gonna
repeal medical coverage
to help pay the bills
and then the 13th amendment
something about needing
cheap labor
so i need to get
my things in order
but where will i go
i can’t head for reservations
cause they’re checking
lineage if there’s a casino
and if there’s no casino
the 13th has
already been repealed
i could go to france
since i’m not a gypsy
i’d be okay in israel
since i only have one
or two arab friends
but on second thought
they have army draft
and i couldn’t shoot
anyone who looked like me
you know having
eyes, mouth, nose,etc.
i’m not japanese
so i could go china
but not germany
germany’s already said
diversity’s dead
england’s out
our rules came
from there first
maybe I could
just hitch a ride
on one of those
space shuttles

by

lone wolf’s lament…

this is not the place
that was your father’s
these woods hold
bones older than
your history
each tree marks
a fallen warrior
black elk knew of them
calling upon the spirits
to receive their brothers
and sisters in death
to guide them safely
to a land of peace
not one of war
nor into stolen mountains
flowing with streams of tears
nor torched prairie villages
now no more than smoke
carried away in the night
only brother wolf
was left
to lament
as the funeral
procession
passed by
to an unwanted
desert
away from
this sacred
and
holy
place

by

conquistadors…

in the harbor
a black ship
sails toward shore
the new land
the americas
below the decks
crimson warriors
satan’s own
wearing crosses of white
we see them come ashore
so many men
with strange dress
metal arms and heads
weapons that flash
like thunder
killing without a single
blow of the axe
elders tell us to flee
but we the young eagles
say we shall fight
for our sacred ground
for freedom
for all that the gods
have given us
but
rocks burst open
the blood of our nation
pours from each stone
of the village
flames consume
the living
and the dead
waves of fear
cover all who stand
before these beasts
our gods
have forsaken us
our gold
our freedom
our land
raped
by
messengers
of a
foreign
god
who
came
to
save
our
souls

This poem represents my fourth response to  the third challenge series between Jade and I.  This challenge is somewhat different in that the prompt is now an audio prompt.  Each poet provides the other with five instrumental songs (so that the song’s words do not interefere with the poet’s) from which the poet is to write a poem.  Jade has written her first response which can be found here. 

by

moon weavers…

 

perhaps this is some foolish
childhood memory
but
within each memory
lies some strand of truth
i speak to you of moon weavers
few outside these walls
know of them
so you must listen carefully
and heed my words this night
at the edge of the forest
in the small meadow
where the fog crawls
along the ground
are the spirits of warriors
the ancient ones
they spin silver threads
into braids of tears
placed upon our doorsteps
as gifts and protection
for those of us
who should own the land
if you must walk at night
you must not let a moon weaver
pass through your body
for if you do
you will feel
the sorrow of a hundred years
ancestors will appear before you
their death will feel like your death
the slaughter and rape
of those who loved this place
bathed in fire while they slept
ran down by horses
branded with bayonets
such visions have driven some mad
so beware my friend
for what you see
may be
your own history
or
mine