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Aaron Mullin Dec 2014
Mitakuyapi,

My name is Standing Elk of the Yankton Sioux Reservation. This is my formal apology to all The Elders of Turtle Island. I accept full responsibility for my words and actions in the future concerning the Spiritual Knowledge we are about to share with the People of the Americas and the World. My actions and words are none other than my own based upon the Spiritual Teachings of the *Tunjkaśila
and the Spiritual Knowledge of the Star Nations. If any Elder of the Red Nation feels that I am wrong in my actions or in any verbal statement, feel free to correct me according to the Laws of the Kit Fox Society that we spiritual human beings have chosen to live by. "If it be necessary to punish a child, do so in such a way that will improve his spirit or mind, but do not lay a hand on him for you may damage the possession of the Great Spirit, His gift of life to you."

As a Red Nation we have lived through dreams and vision of our Spiritual Tunjkaśila, and we have chosen not to stray beyond our limits of the power of our spirit. My personal dream has directed me to contact certain Ikċé Wiċaśa to greatly increase the spiritual awareness that is to be shared with our Brothers and Sisters of the Four Directions. Through my personal contacts, I know some medicine men have agreed 'it is time' because of the closeness of the fullfillment of the prophecies that are vital for our existence as a human race. This sharing of dreams and vision of the Tunjkaśila will strengthen the Foundation of Nations that are sincerely interested in being that element that will be the foundation of the "Thousand Years of Peace."

My hand is open to all those Elders of Turtle Island who wish to share their message, dream and vision with the People of the World; for, I cannot do it alone. Through our teachings, we know that not one individual holds the Knowledge and Mysteries of Life. We were all given a piece of the puzzle. We are all a part of The Sacred Hoop that needs to be mended, and we must make a humble effort in this task if the Seventh Generation, our grandchildren and unborn, are to survive this next awareness. My life was molded around the teachings of the Tunjkaśila that they instilled in our spirit as children. My spirit has directed me in this effort to help our Brothers and Sisters of the Four Directions. I have already chosen not to fail the Tunjkaśila.

Mitakuyé Oyasiŋ
Héhaka Inaziŋ
, Standing Elk
Ihuŋktoŋwaŋ Oyaté (Dakota Nation)
February 1996
Nahko Bear (Medicine for the People):  http://youtu.be/YsgP8LkEopM

http://starelders.net/

http://www.starknowledgetv.com/
sheloveswords Aug 2013
How can I say "We're just friends"
When I taste you in my dreams
Your honeyed savoriness on my tongue
Formed itself
Useful
You dance like an angel
In the center of my pupils
Your song is exceptionally sweet
It humbles my spirit
Divulges me
That we are all just hummingbirds
Vigorously, hunting for a melody
Auctioning off welfares
For pleasures swimming in vain
Selfishly
We've never enjoyed the necter without the pain of
Piercing thorns
With handicapped feet,
We dream to fly
60 miles a beat
How I wish the breeze
Would carry me
Straight to your home of
Butterfly Weeds
Longing for the eightenth year, to sore away
Just as a sweet bundle in Mama's womb
In the nest we mature and anxiously wait
Extremities
Planted firmly on the dirt
His amour
Gives me wings
And, I flutter
His humming is a pleasing sound
Searching for a fullfillment
Two times our body weight
In the ebony of my skin
I inertly wait
Wishing for reincarnation
A
New
Life
Of a harmless, beautiful
hummingbird
Harmonizing its way
Across God's blue sky.



                             Copy Right 2013
                                    ©Patty Ann
Aj  Jun 2012
Zen of Mud
Aj Jun 2012
...plain, white light of conscious sight

carved with the black of depictions,

stretched imaginations, dance of

curves and shapes, the inner vision

needs a pair of shades, color it

with flames of passion, free flow

of feeling, breeze of dreams

whistling through the meadows

of vibrant forms

...from the dust

this thought was born, to the

dust, the vision fades, in the dust

are the sparks, minerals, elements

of life, fertile fields, sow the seeds


...from the groves, the forms are

reborn, then the critters and grubs

swarm in, eating the scraps, *******

new life into the soil, new sparks

and minerals, eggs and chances,

rhythms for the new generations,

vibrant once more, a matter of

potent renditions, the breath fueling

the black depictions, white light geyser,

grey clouds, tarnished ores,

dirt and dust, all colored with the minerals

of light

...and in that light is solar life,

lunar reflections, Earthly fullfillment of

'son'shine, mother's milk, and dad's

beer brewing in the astro's firmament.

Dancing all through again and again of

swirvy curls, recollection of scattered pearls,

casted and then returned.
I may add more to this, ran out of Zen :j
Jordan Jul 2013
How much do we have to take before we can go without, how long before the draught? death by entertainment, it seemed so glamorous how could one go without?

I knew better to begin with, now its time to have faith in my oneness. opening a new chapter to a story that has no end, doing away with infinite incarnations perpetuated by masochistic sin. Death to the creator, the created, the masturbated, incubated, presipitated falsehoods of pajentry. Death to all the silly megabytes of pompous epiphany. Death to the beast that thrived off of insecurity. Death to all that which is no longer me.

Unsimulated, unappropraited energy that is free to be anything but alerts on a screen. False flags of fullfillment waving endlessly with self pity. Perfectly punctuated cries for help and lol's that reeked of nothing but "I hate myself."

Cut the net, it's a trap for something fluid with that which doesn't connect. Don't bother looking here for love, it is already in all that doesn't limit itself.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZGEQmFL9McU&feature;=player_detailpage
epedeped  Mar 2010
The Mongol
epedeped Mar 2010
Life is a coin toss between the bold and fearsome
Success a toss between perception and Journey
Destitute a toss between laziness and loyalty
Happiness a toss between compromise and fullfillment
And spirit is a free and strong willed creature with a sword in one hand
a bow at its side the steppes at his feet  and an unbreakable mind.
Lianette Reyes  Jul 2014
Journey
Lianette Reyes Jul 2014
We commence the acencion into an oxygen void dimension of vivid colors and breathless serenity
your beach-breaze salty glaze compliments your starved gaze as you graze my thighs and sigh through Slytherin lips,
blindly searching for the switch buried in my skin, a surpressed sunset at your fingertips
You need me now, like an orphaned lover you miss me, your strong hands cannot understand the firm grip of my surreal sweet lips, the warm
carresses of my tongue, the twists, the complex concoction of intoxicating love-making physical poetry, Constructing
your perfect carnal high, I trace fairy trails down your chest into the fields of your belly, I paint roses onto your skin with my soft
puckered sips, I drink from you your pleasure and make it my own, you're not alone on this quest to fullfillment,  DO your fill and
you'll recieve in full.I'm at your command. Move me like your marrionette star, I'll repeat which ever wonders your whispers wish me to,
let us commerce in our spiritual sign language, catalyst mental eruption, hot and heavy streams of red-hot moans rivers into tropical atmosphere,
riveting the hem of my body as my soul slips through the strips of bone, the rib caging my bongo core as it crecendos into **** sore psalms, my palms
rooted to your crown as I combust into a comet, corrupted by the sublime nectar dripping off the rims of your mouth, connecting the dots to my being,
you found me
now come
Brea Brea May 2013
Well, you'll pobablly be in another womans arms in the years to come
but that doesnt faze this thing
welling
that runs through the tunnels and the funnels of this heart
my love
because it gives me conviction when you are weak
it gives you the loving that you seek
and yours
like chemistry
it gives me the wish fullfillment, the dream I'd always wanted to meet
you are my sorrows dry
the tear drops from tears
separated from thier highest fate
transmuted from young coal to old gold
you bring something with you
with that pride welled up in your heart
ike a wise kind serpant
that only seeks to help
only seeks to pleasre it self
to helping me
and those who are comming
you have the ancients in those eyes
considerable, and powerful
they recognize the same power inside
me
I didnt need your acknowledgment for it to be here
but without it
I wouldnt be here
it would die whith te last morsels of my heart
to a kindly but devious part
Ive been called from the old story books, then
when the gods were our best of friends
but now I am here
in a world that is no longered catered to
because of fear
the children are blind and weak
and recognition, friendship wa all that I really ever seeked
with shoulder bones of gold
you reached into me
and saw something old
saw something untouched by the hardships that has the power to turn something beautiful
decreppid and old
not that Ib havet
havent felt the shiver of the cold
by my own small fraction of foolishness
because I listened to what this life had shown
but all the while I thought of you
even while others ran me through
this same kindness isnt wasted on you
it gives me great pleasure to do
all of this for you
because you dont look down on me
yu see yoursef in my glee
and I see a young god
with a youthful nourished body from the glitters its mind contains
like a wise stag, you've lived your ife as not to shame
the wisdoms and truth carried in your name
you make love to me
my wounds you clearly see
My lovliness dare not loosen themselves from me
my spirit is wise
and its beauty
its heart
its demise
but I am safe with you making love from behind my thighs
I am recognized for the creature I really am
not the kind to still be walking the land
but with your face in mine
my eyes flicker with a hope, completely consolidated

by your firm touch

your firm kiss

upon my soft halo

we are

the same creature
Love Tamer Jan 2015
A promise of love,
Years of compromise,
Ups and down,
Happiness and sadness,
Weakness and strength,
Happy memories, children, family...
Gifts,
Professional growth,

Then what?
When your skin, energy and body are not the same,
Someone comes along offering to provide a new start,
New start?.....the same cycle starts.
Then you realize how much you have lost.
What do we take?
Memories and the fullfillment of knowing we did the best we could.

My lesson:
Appreciate today,
Be thankful for what I have,
Love my family and look at adventures to renew within and with my partner in love,
Don't look outside....look within,
Live to the fullest and share it with your family,
Keep humble and don't do harm,
don't excuse your actions, take accountability.

Create a real world, not a fictitious one.
#reallove, #randomthoughts, #honesty, #fictitiousworld, #soulmate, #lovetamer
Bella  Oct 2014
Climax
Bella Oct 2014
I hope for your touch
On my angelic soft skin
I urge for the pleasure
The pleasure within

I look for the warmth
Your tender embrace
Uncovering my innocence
Lace by lace

I ache for the lust
Which follows thereafter
Sensitive touches
Wonderous laughter

I await the days
With burning desire
To awaken your lust
Put your senses on fire

Engaging in your charm
Full of excitement
Amorous youth
And classy fullfillment

Enraptured by eagerness
Sought to please
These boundless exctasies
Accomplished at ease
ClawedBeauty101 Dec 2017
Down in the ground, your silver body lays
You were buried, with another person on that day

Both of you are unsaved
So now your abandoned in this muddy ***** grave

You men seek for answers, you seek fullfillment
For you only have half your heart, what an empty torment

Where did the other half go? We may never know
Who has it? The Questions seem to grow

You are not in a grave yard, but within the woods of one
You should be counted as dead, and your memories done

But there is no grave stone, so there maybe hope
Maybe your time in the ground is a scope

An opportunity to learn, to believe, and to repent of past sins
For those who have ears let him ear! For the change first starts from within.

Your darkened eyes, look to find hope and relief in others
But only the drowning down pour of depression is you cover

Your shadows of hair hang over your faces, your eyes to the cold moist dirt
Deep down under, your gray chains get tangled to share each others hurt.

The only company you have is each other, along with the fallen sin trees and young future saplings
Learn from nature dear men, for the love of the roots of the tree's  to the dirt is forever grappling.

Your charm of words remain in the containment of a plastic force
The force field refuses to open for you until you end your sinful course.

I have tried to dig you two up myself, but you were down too deep.
No power on earth could unburry you two, the possibilities seem too steep

Only the Super Natural forces of God could do that
But When? WHEN will you be unburied?

I'm sorry... I'm am one impatient Cat...

*Every now and then We can feel your clasping hands reach for the empty red bench... hoping to get out of this grave.... and sit with us again....
Thankfully, one has been unburied recently, now, only by the Lord's will and grace, the other shall be too. I won't stop hoping and praying  for the lost one to finally return.
(Thank you David T for Checking this for me!)
Katrina  May 2013
Choice #2
Katrina May 2013
Comfort is questioned.
As another story unveals tonight,
the uncharted road not explored.

A familiar image appears.
With a flash of lightning
on both the left and right.

Breathe in.Scent of Pure bliss, with a hint of carpe diem
Though it is not our home.
For we do not have one,yet.

Not caused by anything, but our true desire.
Constant change and chance.
Solely living life.

Where we'll end , who knows.
Fate is devious, but tasteful
and factors out what does not accommodate you.

A sudden noise begins.
Eyelids open.
my alarm has waken me.

I sit up fast.
Why was this dream so concealed?
Buried so deep, unseen to even me til now.

I look arond in a new place, alone.
remembering the first road explored.
So easy. Simple. So 'Normal".

Thoughts pop as if it were popcorn thrown in a fire.
Love is infinite and blind,
but aquires true ambitions.

Happines doesnt grow.
It is inevitable,
if its genuinely you.



Another chance as a taste arises.
Do you go for it or deny it?
Similar devotion from both sides required.

Hearts get taken and then shattered.
As it is a part of LIVING life.
Being scared of it is a silly choice.

Human nature makes it so hard to deal.
Doesn't make it impossible.

Living Life and finding self-fullfillment isn't easy,
for if it was, being alive would be just as unreal as a DREAM.
Stories of Exes.3
Debbie Brindley Feb 2022
Broken, shattered, filled with pain
My love for you will never wane

Happiness, fullfillment, being by your side
Something the universe it seems our love it wil not abide

Illness, taking everything
Nothings ever been the same
So cruel is this illness
You can't even speak my name

Exhausted through lack of sleep
Pain in my heart running deep
Mental fatigue is so great
Sometimes I feel
I'll completely break

By your side I will always be
Even when you don't remember me
Exhausted
Ken Pepiton Jul 2023
Vu. { as long as any story's told wrong}

- suffer not a novice to teach

No bet. Nothing wagered, no pledge to be paid,
no bet was made between the unspeakable name,

core processing access id-entity… we'll call Truth.
And time, if there were a wager, Truth be against Time.

- thus we develop a worth for attention.

The way life works super resiliently, bouncing back
after starry chaos leaves a constant possibility
for truths beyond our scale of instant relativity
to manifest as seems with none the wiser,

the sun could flick us from existance, and be
acting as naturally as all such suns act
after a while, maybe

seven minutes ago.
---
listening to me bellyache and moan,
woe is me I am good for nothing.

Hmmm. I could just die, but then, there
would be just cause to believe me selfish,
and selfish is something I try not to be, in fact.

Information flow, twists awry through held truths,
never taken apart to reset the spring.

Nietsche was wrong about a lot of things.
Knowing he had a voice he could
convince himself was otherwise,
he had a real raw idea of God.
That's good.
Not useless, mostly used up. Flame.

That's what the real old *** in me said.
Fretting naught,
letting go all wishery wasery,
growing old effortlessly,
be causing, as wishes are supposed,
sup-post,
same as prayers properly aimed, to
be collected to be
be answered, as information related
to pain in the brain or heart, or core
mental effort processing part, which
detects and destroys the infecting barb.
Just in time.
Release relief, unbelievable lies,
pile into icy dams, late spring
in truth
past all thorny issues,
life is not intentionally difficult,
ants - the super colony kind
run vast ecology balancing systems,
on auto pilot, pure intuitive duty drives.
On a global scale, spreading without war.

We can see we can be better rich than poor.
We can see we live on a wet ball spun
along a spiral in a spiral in a spiral, and so, on
and on and on, looping the grand loop, a little
farther along than last time,

our eyes have seen the glory, our children
can imagine thought speed, information passing

as time carries matters to gravitationally bound
points past which nothing is ever the same,

because you, cause me, to cause you to imagine
we share a plane conscious level,
as we stare across the heavens from JWST,

just adjusting reasonable focus, is it asking
too much? Asking to effect the healing
with truth that cannot be denied, and be truth
indeed…

Whatsoever, whensover, so today is fine,

infinitely fine, as a whole time bit, with us in it.

Who arranged the world's laws of nations,
?
not men in my general class, retired disabled
boys used in immoral warfare, and paid glory

and allowed to march in war winner parades,
even though, Wounded Knee and My Lai,

fester under America's Exceptional Blessing.

Agricultural superfluity, aided by machines,
and the modern incarnation of king control,
usurious
war debt, cost of plunder,
always need latest enemy detection tech.
- Confidential is above us all down here.

Who you gonna call to collect on reneged
deals, see the big picture, be visionary,
wars are lost for want of a nail, a nail
that woulda been seen missing, if the smith's
bills had been paid in time for precharge inspection.

Who allows evil to prosper,
who prospers from peace never made?

imagine you're the powerful and magnificent
leader of North Korea, or a Metro-mega Church.

You quote Lincoln, and agree with the great
promoters of idle time boredom prevention,
knowing you can fool some of the people,
all of the time. And some of the people
a predictable percentage of the time,

and all the people, after a while.  

Oakridge radiant Gospel,
"you listen too long
  you do eventually die."

- and thus it came to pass
- none found fusion, pfft.
Deep mindtimespace silence

Nonsense to any, therapy to me,
the effectual fervent prayer,

which is really
closer to need announcing, auto
awareness, missing pieces, up
ethos more or
pathos, up path of logos,
as winds winding times
recurrency circuits
up right
is not.
Down is not. Here is midway,
midterm… middle distance
**** sapien augmentedus
in the net spread
in the sight of radio beacons.
submicrowave accuracy,
acutron concept of counting
seconds worth of your attention

Practically stretched
past tensile strand strength

stretching to a C-note,
harmonica

calling all my musing friends,
come hang with me,
in my tree.

In the forest of humanity,
the ant intuitive interconnecting -umph
-- last stack, let patience prove possession --
---- Pa-airing Suckacessfull…
Yeah, blue tooth vestibular augments.
-- I can hear birds now.
Who is on war's side, if this were after
I made my case and closed it,
this is the future when we have
global access to once secret libraries.
5g- ****… radio directly individuated,
as once first accounts were coded, so
now, we are our comm device's user,
we filter using truths we used
and proved just so, we lived

asking truth to show itself in ways
a mortal who labored fifty years,
could be led to expect, jubilee,
boom,
I am free, and I am not uncomfortable,
U may read my mind and find news,
formed from used theories untwisted,

and stretched to the extent of one man's
heart fire, expanded with knowledge,
edified with activated agape, lief be,

take a second, what's such a bit of being
left alone, at second glance, become,

some kinda curious thing, clap trap.

****, all wishery is yours, it's time again,

to review the prayer/wish fullfillment section.

Did you, dear, oh, dear, what, what makes
dear the lessons life teaches for your attention,

no price, a quote, a song
"Come, all you who are thirsty,
come to the waters;
and you without money,
come, buy, and eat!
Come, buy wine and milk
without money and without cost!"

Isaiah 55, thriving on hope deferred,

refer again to the references,

decide yourself if you believe James I of England
was at any point a person you could work for?

My task is not to teach, unless my life proves
worth my continuing continuance, thinking

plinking, *** shots, clang… in the olden days,

when a family could live by a prentice knack,  
for taking things  apart, to play new roles,

as whole days that may be shared with wary
few, readers readied by experience, to become

as ware, soft, observant, paying eyeservice,
alert for entertaining clap traps when we all laugh.

Okeh, in a dark bijou-kiva, place where aspirations
are presented to the gathered together
to be entertained, de-brained, turned off, and

let be so, the picture show, as it were,
in the so esoterical initial induction, holiness exposed.

It is all in what you did not know, that makes
what you know now, worth living
through.

Yep. Fishing for a whole reality blessing
as living water
does occur to us as time,
we live in the flow, but we row,

because war rules the world we were born in,
and all the churches of messages etched in spirit,
written in light, of course, as on the silvered screen,
live to preach divine rights as old as lobsters's
stacking urges…
tapping scratching

And fire and memories paradiddling
cloudy smoky misty
shapes and shades noise uselessness knowing inspiring
zingers written on the door post, for good luck.

I read a coloring book, once, at a mall, in La Jolla.
"Grandma keeps a Kosher Kitchen" had a scene
to color yourself into, as a curious child noticing,
the little thing Grandma touched as she came in
from the garden of herbs and flowers for bees,

"what is that for?"
In the uncolored coloring book, it was so nonchalant,
"Good luck."
Grandma's grasp the lucid concept.
- food you know not of, love… luck
Thanks given. Praised be.

Long stories, should only be told as true,
if you, personally… lived to tell it, with no sugar on it.

Bitte, Schön. And so it goes. Kosher us, unclean other.

And what am I? Wild child left between the pillar
and the post of an aspiring great man, whose hopes

were dashed, when he crossed a line, in other peoples
ways of sealing soul stealing redemption agreements,

with a shotgun one potential solution…

by the grace of good luck from any source such
luck appears to have kept me breathing, aimlessly

as I imagine a spirit might decide, in truth, one breath
let go , allows a sense to follow, as glowing cardboard ash,
as the teller zones across old causes fought for and won,

which winning needs another singing, which cheek
this time? Which last laugh is led upto, now,

as I acknowledge the precious readers who form
the recognostic think thank thing,
deja deja
This has a sunset with it on Facebook and kenpepiton.com

— The End —