(Foreword:  the word Gvgeyu'i (pronounced guh-GAY-yoo-ee) in the eastern Giduwah Cherokee dialect, means both "I love you", and "love" as a noun.)

Gvgeyu'i
by light of fire
'neath full moon's gaze
and shaman's drum,
the young brave
and the princess fair
dance alone where day is done.

Gvgeyu'i
he hears her say,
as embers dance
between the two,
the flames give way,
to passions blaze
'neath starlit sky
ancestors' view

"Gvgeyu'i"
he echoes back,
never turning
tail to flame,
"Gvgeyu'i,
my sun and moon,
even if you don't
feel the same."

Gvgeyu'i
the spirits chant
enchanted by the
dancing fire.
The longing lovers
drip with sweat
as voices crack
and muscles tire.

Gvgeyu'i
the princess sighs,
the spirit-flame
glows in her eyes,
Gvgeyu'i,
her lover true,
utters back her
lovelorn cries.

Gvgeyu'i,
they sang with glee,
the night, the silence
echoed, too,
Gvgeyu'i,
they sang together,
and followed it with
i-go-hi-dv.


(Footnote: i-go-hi-dv is pronounced "ee-go-he-doo" and means "Forever")

John Doe died this morning,
a man of indeterminate age
They found him in an alleyway,
a blanket of newspaper lining his cage
They said it was overexposure,
hypothermia and bad luck.
He was pronounced, tagged, thrown in a bag,
and loaded onto the truck.

John Doe had lived in that same spot
for fifteen haggard years.
Yet nobody knew his real name,
or listened to his tears.
Was he once a father? Or
was he always just a punk?
The community just passed him by
To them he was nothing but a drunk.

Whether or not John Doe had seen
better times seemed irrelevant.
Legally, John wasn't a human being
just a negative urban element.
His last words were "Spare some change
for coffee and hot bread?"
But nobody could spare the time,
and left John Doe for dead.

I wonder how long John sat dead
before anybody saw or cared.
I wonder how many handfuls of change
really could have been spared.
A little bit of warmth and hope
Were all that he desired;
But John Doe never saw a break,
until his time expired.

Old John was unidentified,
no license or social security;
no family reported him missing,
see, John was just an "impurity".
The mortician took his organs out
and stitched him up with wire.
Threw him on the metal table
and slid him in the fire.

John Doe was disposed of
in accordance with local code
Then they cleaned up the alleyway
He lived and died in, his abode.
John Doe is dead and gone now,
but I guess it's all the same.
John had never really lived
since the world forgot he had a name.

Early one morning, before sun took to sky,
they came to take Johnny.  It was his time to die.
The town had all gathered, the crowd circled in.
As Johnny was strong armed, by four big men,
and lead to the gallows, to hang until dead.
They called for his blood, and he just turned his head.

Johnny stayed silent, as the hateful calls came,
with no pleas for his life, or innocent claim.
He stepped to the noose, with no fear in his eyes,
not every man chooses just when he dies.
But Johnny had taken, the life of a man-
with no explanation, with his own bare hands.
The crowd raised their bibles, demanded him dead,
the called for his life, and he just turned his head.

The priest at the gallows, looked him in the eye,
and said to him "Johnny, you're fixin' to die.
You've been tried and sentenced, and haven't been heard.
You're found guilty of ******, and y'ain't said a word.
It's too late for you now, to make recompense,
but do you have any last words, to speak in defense?"
The crowd was voracious, they wanted him dead.
He just cleared his throat, and lifted his head...

The silence that followed, was stuck in their throats,
as Johnny spoke up, in no broken notes.
"The man killed my brother, and then was set free.
He was friends with the judges, that execute me.
If justice shall fail, then take vengeance instead-
so I took the man's throat, and I choked the man dead.
Now I face the gallows, I do so with no dread."
The crowd remained silent.  Each one turned their head.

The sun broke the darkness, on the top of that hill.
Johnny stopped speaking, and stepped to the ****.
The noose was pulled tight, up under his chin.
He looked towards heaven, eyes vacant of sin.
The old oak trap door, creaked under his feet,
and with a pull of a lever, the deed was complete,
and a peaceful expression graced the face of the dead;
and even the hangman, had to turn his head.

Later that evening, as the sun left the sky,
she sat at John's grave, with no tears left to cry.
She dropped a red rose, on the freshly dug earth,
and said goodbye to the last child, she'd ever giv'n birth.
She'd buried the other, as she buried this one,
one died for the other, to see justice done.
She sat there and pondered, where the road had lead.
Then she stood up, heartbroken, and just turned her head.

Will you see me to the river?
I fear that I have lost my way.
Could I find her muddy waters
Then I know i would be okay.

This path, I cannot recognize,
The shadows here are tall and fierce,
The lights that used to guide my steps
This twilight haze they cannot pierce.

Lead me to her raging rapids
Waters cool and unrelenting,
Let her hear my last confession
Close as I come to repenting.

Let her take me to the ocean,
Let her bury me in the sea,
The salty air to soothe my soul
On the warm sands of memory