Culture Vultures

Blood sweat and tears
For too many years.
They took us from our land.
Sold us lies with a smile and a hand.

For hundreds of years we dreamed of this.
Etched and painted white faces.
Passed our stories down to our children.
We could have never prepared

For the pain and suffering the future held.
Forced into sand boxes in far off lands.
The trail was far too long for any man.
So they gave us alchohol to forget.

Now we drink too much with no hopes of employment.
We try to pass our culture down to our youth.
But they leave as soon as they can, to seek their truth.
Living a life of ghostly memories knowing

That their ancestors once lived proud and free.
This land was ours before any white man was to see.
As they make dream-catchers to find themselves.
As they sweat out their poisons from their tumor cells.

They have taken our culture and ate it like vultures.
Regurgitated it back to whomever would eat it.
We saw this coming but we did not approve it.
There was no stopping the white man in the end.

Now they take tours of our holy places and think of our spirits.
They see our burial mounds and think of our magic.
Tears still flow from the trail we were forced to veer.
We watch now as they destroy the world, how tragic.

 

My Beloved Land

The job of a dictator isn’t that easy.
So I write this to help you understand.
I have to be tough and kick skulls and slap hands
As my people ask for their universal rights.
I throw them dollars while taking pills.
But there is no food or water left to borrow or steal.

Four decades later what do I see.
Lots of delusional youth looking up at me.
Poisoned by their psychedelic pop.
Not knowing that I’m all they’ve got.
I hear this nonsense of a war going on
I see adoring fans in my beloved land.

Like so many dictators before me.
I will leave this world as I see.
No amount of reality may you tell
And I will go to paradise as well.
Surrounded by all I have created here.
For an eternity this ground will swell.

For all the oil milked and shipped away.
For all the blood spilt here today.

Eleven from Twenty Seven

Round man stuffed holding his iPad to read.
Reading his made in China RSS feed.
Sits next to wife reading the paper.
Her face covered, no eyes to see.

Woman says, it says here China is winning.
Man says, not if I have anything to do with it.
Woman says, they will be number one soon.
She speaks out loud the simple math to gloom.

Eleven from twenty seven.
Eleven from twenty seven.
Why is this so hard for me to imagine.
Is it 13?

No deeeeear …… it is not.
Man mumbles while checking his stocks.
Both sitting and waiting for the doc.
You know the price of steak is too high.

I’m going to have to get me a good paying job.
There is no way we can keep eating like hogs.
China is winning it is easy to see.
Man catches imports from China like fleas.

Woman can’t do simple math to realize our demise.
She is worried because she will still be alive.
America is losing because of people like these.
So content to sit and be pleased.

Born in the Abyss

it cuts both ways
the tools we use today
discarded tomorrow.
minerals stolen, poison sorrow.

gold drained, used and forgotten.
woodlands raped, wiped and rotten.
building a better tool.
communicating to you.

wired and text messaged.
tell me where you are right now?
what do you dream of?
where are we going?

brains upgraded, many faded.
gray matter turns into dark matter.
memories injected into culture.
history stolen by disease.

stories building our heroes.
legends courting myth.
born in the abyss.
all sins washed away.

Ghost Dance

Indian warriors locked in history.
Their stories updated by everyone.
Displayed on flat screens.
Read by office workers.
Their only war to keep their jobs.
Exchanging status updates.
Farming digital lands.
So many tribes died for this.
Their people murdered and starved.
So real land can be possessed.
Savages sitting in cages.
We all are.

One worker reads these stories.
Is moved to type these words.
Remembers the people who died for this.
Sees his reflection in the monitor.
No longer recognizes himself.
A parking garage outside the window.
A dining hall across the street.
One price for all one can eat.
The war continues far away.
Natives forced to give up land.
Savages sitting in cages.
We all are.

Time and Time Again

Speechless.
Dictator’s topless
Caught with their pants down.
Legs torn open and laid bare.
No walls to protect the glare
Of a million man march

To tear down tyranny.
To seek a free democracy.
Wars are fought over atrocities
Disguising our hopes with fallacies.
Finding no weapons of mass destruction.

No war can replace a dictator.
No foreign armies are ever seen as liberators.
The people will rise up and retrieve
The human dignity they wish to breathe.
Time and time again.

We will continue to learn this lesson.
War is as useless as can be
To the sea of people screaming to be free.
Civil disobedience has its own distinct cadence.
Beating the drum of humanity.
Destroying all walls and barricades.

Feeding China

Freedom is exaggerated and abused
As many cling to their Bibles and Guns
China’s economy continues its cruise
Selling the seas of cash funds.

Beating Captain America.
For the U.S. has nothing to teach China.
No moral high ground to seek.
No words of wisdom to preach.

Because its middle class is shrinking.
Because it borrows without blinking.
Because it can not take care of its own.
As China pulls millions out of the poverty zone.

The Red Scare has begun anew.
Media pundits slinging hate fueled.
What will happen when China wants its money?
Our country and military will crumble.

No gas to go into our SUVs and drones.
No new technology will be created or owned.
For America has robbed Peter to pay Paul.
Giving China its soul, while buying all.

Little manufacturing done on American soil.
With plenty of money to buy others oil.
Harvard graduates going back to their homes
To make careers wherever they roam.

Intellectualism spoon fed to other countries, no longer inbred.
Citizens yelling about wanting their country back
Should realize that it was sold long ago, not attacked.
Each day they buy at Wal-Mart China is fed.

Meditation on Happiness

Happiness appears without a trace
Like bullets shot through a human’s face.
Velocity and trajectory tell how long
That smile will stay and belong.

Happiness does not dwell on the news.
It does not focus on psychotics and distorted views.
It does not worry about cold weather.
Or the political games that last forever.

Happiness dreams of security.
A home to lay its head in sobriety.
A family of its own to love and raise.
See its children develop from phase to phase.

Happiness is right in front of me.
I won’t let it escape because of another killing spree.
I won’t get sucked into another media frenzy.
Because I’ve never been this close to being free.

A bed to lay my head at night.
A job to keep the water and lights.
A family that enjoys it when I come home.
I have all of this, as I write this poem.

Recovery

every once in a while life just works.
you finally get a break from being the mail clerk.
your dead end becomes a path of opportunity.

it happens when you least expect it.
expect nothing and you won’t be rejected.
never fill yourself with smoke and mirror dreams.

put your head down and just work.
remember that we all want to be somebody.
remember there is something wonderful,  even in the worst of us.

we are all part of the same magic potion.
the chemistry that grew these human emotions.
we are all seeking to invent a better life.

if you are feeling really low I suggest prayer
so that you will remember where
you came from and what we all share.

because there is a real blizzard out there.
the snow is getting deeper with the guilt we keep.
when the ice darkens and the snow covers you

try to remember that your break is coming
and that a new season we are all wanting.
even in this cold, good is happening all around.

open your eyes and see the sounds.
through all our trials and tribulations
we will recover.