Saturday, July 23, 2011

Poem by Joel Kurke

I’ve got a medicine bag
  full of poems and songs that treats
  like a natural antidote
 That was once lost but lives on
   with this smoke
   that floats off flames
   from these rhymes that I wrote
Then sprinkle me
 with the ash and remains
 so my pores will absorb
 these quotes to defend and cope
 with the ghosts of past mistakes
These words are like a life boat
  better yet a Red Cedar Dugout
  used to float
Past my old self
   who still crys
   for HELP
Beggin for change
   and cash on the Ave.
   one more hit
   one more brown bag
   with an aluminum can
   to withstand
   my PAIN
That’s why I PRAY
   all day
   to maintain
 Manifest Light Rays
   to blind old ways
   from coming out
   the dark place
   of my MIND STATE
So this day
I choose my fights wisely
  because the right way
  is to pave Red Roads
  Guided by my Ancestors Soul
  where the buffalo still roam
  on Pow-Wow Highways
Where the fresh water Always Flows
   From the Cascade Peaks
  Where Heaven and Earth meet
Towards Rocky Mountain Snow Caps
Melting from the sun
 Rising like yeast
 from the East
 to clear land
Where our Children live and play
   not growing up too fast
   but are able to understand
   what it means to Grass Dance
What it means to bring back
   The Ghost Dance
   our souls chant
Ancient Vibrations from Nations
That have been lost since the INVASION
That are now being Cultivated
 Communicated through
  states of
  Prayer and Meditation
This is the Voice of Creation
To all my Relations
 Spoken Words
 To kindle the Flame
 for the next Seven Generations
To nourish the ROOT
In the youth
With the Water that’s Fresh
It’s the TRUTH
   Happiness cannot be shot
   Through a needle that shoots
  Can’t be measured
  By the size of
  Your platinum necklace
Time cannot be bought back
From the choices we’ve made
   the only choice
   is to choose
To some life is just a game
Playing the high stakes
But who’s really getting played
   have we not had
   enough of getting sprayed
   with mace
   foot and ankle chained
   to Lies-N-Hate
It’s time we Remember
Our Elders Wisdom
   That is slowly fading away
   like other natural resources
   that face Extinction
My Grandmother’s Eyes
Tell a story of Traditional ways
  That existed before culture rape
   and black plagues
A time before
 Gang Violence
A time before
  Crack babies
 And mental Slavery
We used to live in HARMONY
   balance with all living things
   created in unity
Giving Respect
Because the Creator is
A Reflection of All Things
   The source
   The season
   The Life
   The Teachings
The Song is still Breathing
The Drum is still Beating
Connected to mother earth’s heartbeat
   Through Urban Jungles
    And Concrete
We rejoice and Give Thanks
For Good Medicine Willz
  Used to help Heal
  The ill ones
  Still suffering right beside us
A new beginning
All things go in Cycles
  Old souls are being reborn
  In the child
  Look at the Grandfathers Smile
                                                    We Missed You

 A-Ho Mitakuye Oasin
(We are all Related)

Hawk Littlejohn Native American Flute vintage 1996

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