Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Dec 2016 Feggyr Citack
Blossom
Its quite a funny thing
My darling asked last night
She asked why the sky was pink
In the summers warm sky
I told her that little birds flew up
and painted it that way for all
But she giggled and said to me
Theres no air, they would fall!
When I was a young girl
I asked why the sky was blue
and when told it was painted that way
I took those words as pure truth
But my darling I am proud
that you question what is said
that will help you will be aware of those
Whose lies to you are fed
 Dec 2016 Feggyr Citack
Free Bird
I'd like to tell you a story
It begins in 1492
When dear old Christopher Columbus
Sailed the ocean blue

He landed on what he thought
To be the country of India
He stumbled upon a group of people
Who appeared to be indigenous

Because these native people
Happened to be where he thought he was
He called them all "Indians"
&& somehow that name stuck

They welcomed his group with open arms
Even offered them their feast
Unaware that deep inside
They were but wolves, dressed as sheep

Columbus && his crew
Soon ravaged the land
They took what they saw
Then they took full command

Of the people they found
On the land where they landed
They felt they should rule
So they stepped in, heavy handed

They murdered the people
Who had taken them in
Set fire to their villages
While the victims watched with their kin

Flash forward to the future
It's now 2016
It's been over 500 years
Since the overtaking by the regime

Future settlers decided
To let the survivors live on
They designated them small areas
Of what had not yet been robbed

These Native Americans,
Generally keep to themselves
They get by living off their land
But now they need your help

The Sioux of Standing Rock
Are being horribly mistreated
The state of North Dakota
Is poisoning them without reason

A pipeline has been built
That runs through this Native territory
When Bismarck residents didn't want it
It was rerouted, how discriminatory

People from all over the country
Are seeming to agree
They are making the commute
To protest peacefully

In defense of an oppressed people
Who only want to live
But the government is stepping in
Even blowing off some limbs

"Let them die, they're not like us"
the message the administration is sending
It seems that after all this time
The battle is never-ending

What exactly does it take
For people to see eye-to-eye?
In the end we're all just human  
We kiss, we laugh, we cry

So if you have a heart at all
If you know that this is wrong
Please join the Sioux in their mission
By coming together, we can be strong
You don't have to be out there protesting to help. You can still make a difference by making a monetary donation to help build with Standing Rock. You can read more about it on the go fund me page listed here. Every bit helps.
https://www.gofundme.com/EarthLodgesAtStandingRock
A flight of three crows
added to
a dense grey day

Next add four
iconic conifers
as high as the sky
eternally ******* down

These things are
always in my sight
through my window
on this wet world

Multiply all of this
by a sweet daughter
who makes me proud
and raise the whole
to the power of a strong woman
who carries us all
on her back

The equation produces
a result that I am 95 percent certain
equals happiness
though the confidence interval
is wide

And this result
sweet as it is
and as uncertain as it is
will outlive me
leave a faint echo in time
an echo that will bounce off a star
and finally be found
gripped in my shriveled paw
long after the epiphany
nowhere near paradise
somewhere short of
the end of the line

This is a moment of happiness
stolen from time
hijacked by a fugitive
from civil society

I'll hold it close
until death pries it
without mercy
from my hand

Leaves it as a blessing
and a curse
for all who come after

Take the blessing.
Leave the curse.
That's the advice I give
with my dying breath.
And I leave this to you
from the generosity
of my heart.
With a nod to
the scant traces
of God's grace
that I find on these pathways
of travail.

Never lost.
Never found.
Always present
and generous
to all.

Be that.
I write from Western Oregon in a year that is wet even by Oregon standards.
 Dec 2016 Feggyr Citack
Blossom
Hello, said you.
Hello* said me.
Whats wrong you ask
I smile, nothing
You glare, Do not lie
I grin, But I'm not
You huff, Talk to me
I sit like a robot
You write in your book
my actions, Im sure
But I wont share my thoughts
with this talking doctor
 Dec 2016 Feggyr Citack
Graff1980
It seems to be the consensus
that we weary hearted workers
spent this work week imprisoned
in a system that does not value
the human condition.
My grandparents have returned as
the sunny new day , my Dad is the
Christmas holiday
My friend Tim is music that touches my
heart , Mama Kuhn is the pen I use
to share my art* ..
Copyright November 30 , 2016 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
Next page