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Jordan Rowan  Mar 2016
Pocahontas
Jordan Rowan Mar 2016
Sell me Pocahontas
She is only seventeen
Paid in full for a painted skull
And a million apple trees

Guide me, native spirit
Teach me how to speak
To tell them why they have to die
And why they're so weak

Pocahontas, come with me  
Take my hand and you'll see

The land of fallen glory
Of courageous family men
Fought for truth and killed the youth
After we called them friends

Pocahontas, come with me  
Take my hand and you'll see

Listen to my promise
This is my desire
Just sign the line and close your eyes
As I set your home on fire
Madeleine Toerne  Jan 2015
Tulip
Madeleine Toerne Jan 2015
It is worse for a tulip to live again and be renewed
than for the tulip to die and be dead.
“What happens when you die?”
I asked several romantic partners over the course of my adolescence.
“You’re dead,” they answered.

It is worse for the tulip to be born again,
dust to dust, dirt to dirt, true god from true god,
in a process that spiritual peers define as, reincarnation.
No tulip is an individual (that is clear), but a process.
A perfecting oneness.

I can’t admit or bend to any resounding belief that every tulip is the same.
That FernGully was a farce and Pocahontas, a phony.
That is just not going to fly.
Maybe it is the environmentalist inside me speaking,
or maybe it is God.

I refuse to believe the prodigies and professors of renewal and rejuvenation.
I can not discount individuation, even in tulips!
Tulips are victims of suburbia, they have been relegated to the lawn, to the mulch bed,
but inside of them there are remnants of humanity.

I couldn’t believe it, ever.
Not ever, even if you convinced me or bribed me or seduced me.
No chance.
samasati Feb 2014
Grandmother Willow said
listen to your heart, you will understand
but when it pounds all I want to do is run

my heart says so many things
one minute it's telling me to climb a tree as high as the branches let me
the next it says hook line and sinker
and when I'm with someone beautiful, it says
nothing, it just
flutters and pitter patters

Mulan was always my favourite because
she had her heart broken and still
She Saved China
all on her own

my heart breaks like twigs and crumbles like dry
stiff leaves
in Autumn
and my heart is also a rubber ball that bounces from
one place to the next
too rapidly,
I forget where I am
and where I just was a moment before I ended up
wherever I ended up

my heart is like ice and sometimes if you are the right temperature,
it will melt for you
my heart is aware of fallacy and sometimes if you try to coax it,
everything I ever felt for you
won't exist anymore

a few months ago I was sitting at the back of
a midnight bus
in my hometown,
with a hippie headband on, accompanied with braids,
a long dress and moccasins of black suede
when a drunk teenager pointed and hollered directly at my face,
"you look like Pocahontas, how many John Smiths love you?"

I don't get angry anymore
I just get tired
my heart goes to sleep for days and wakes up at
the sudden gong of recognition
in eye contact
that lasts longer than just a few seconds;
my heart awakens at sunsets,
when I am sitting in a tree alone
and it awakens each time I successfully skip a stone

I've always thought highly of the two
disney cartoons
and it's not just because they can fire a harpoon
it's something like embodying the female
self-assurance,
strength of the soul,
embracing solitude like wind on a stroll
heart strong from a softening,
heart loved from singing just for singing
heart open like eye contact
that lasts longer than
just a few seconds
Lucius Furius Aug 2017
Pocahontas, Little Snow-Feather,
what possessed you to marry that pale stranger,
to cross the blue, blue Atlantic,
leaving behind your mother and your father?
How naive you were to think they wouldn't destroy you....

But Pocahontas, Little Snow-Feather,
bones-under-England-soil, it is your spirit--
not that of Cortez or Colonel Forsyth*--
your generosity, your love, which will prevail.
* Little Snow-Feather: "According to the early colonists, Pocahontas, like all other Powhatans, had two names.  

* Pocahontas, the name given to her by her father, was translated by the English to mean 'Bright Stream Between Two Hills' but in the Powhatan tongue perhaps meant 'Little Wanton.'  Her secret name, known only among her own tribesmen, was Matoax, 'Little Snow Feather,' a name conjuring up the image of a slim, amber-skinned girl enveloped from neck to knee in a mantle woven of snow-white feathers plucked from the breast of a wild swan.  Such a mantle, worn by Pocahontas in winter with moccasins and leggings of finely dressed white skins, would have given her people ample reason for calling her Matoax." (From G. S. Woodward's Pocahontas.)

* pale stranger:  I recently found that I didn't know as much about the historical Pocahontas as I thought I did.  I had reckoned the Disney movie (the first one) to be laughably inaccurate in showing Pocahontas staying behind when Captain John Smith returned to England (--everyone knows she married him and went with him, right?....).
    Pocahontas, the 11-year-old daughter of Powhatan, chief of the 8,000-person Powhatan Confederacy, was a great help to the early Jamestown settlers.  She learned their language, got certain of her elders to secretly trade them critically-needed corn and fish, and warned them away from ambushes planned by her father's warriors.  She was especially friendly with John Smith and --by Smith's account-- saved him from death at her father's orders.  (Throwing herself on him to protect him is probably something Smith invented to add drama/romance to his Historie --though we can't know for sure.)  There were certainly no other Englishmen in the vicinity.  Smith was injured (a gunpowder accident) and returned to England --but that was not until 1609 --2 years after the near-execution --by which time Pocahontas and he were no longer in communication.  She found contact with the settlers increasingly dangerous as the war between her people and the English grew fiercer.  In 1613 the English kidnapped her for the odd dual purpose of blackmailing her father and making her into a gentlewoman.  Powhatan decided that she wasn't really suffering and refused to pay the ransom.  A different John --John Rolfe--even more of a gentleman than John Smith-- fell in love with her.  They were married in 1614, had a child, and in 1616 sailed to England for a 9-month visit.  As they were about to embark on their return voyage, Pocahontas got pneumonia (or perhaps tuberculosis) and --after all this, only 21 years old-- died and was buried in St. George's Parish Church, Gravesend, Eng.  She'd had an emotional reunion with John Smith in England.  Years later, he was said to have commented: "Poor little maid.  I sorrowed much for her thus early death, and even now cannot think of it without grief, for I felt toward her as if she were mine own daughter."
[Pocahontas II is far inferior to the original.  It doesn't even begin to have any historical basis.  Pocahontas is jailed in the Tower of London; John Rolfe and John Smith team up to rescue her; they subvert an armada threatening to destroy the Powhatans; Pocahontas chooses John Rolfe, sails back to Virginia with him.  Though Judy Kuhn once again does the Pocahontas singing, the songs she's given are far, far inferior to those in the original.]

Hear Lucius/Jerry read the poem:  humanist-art.org/old-site/audio/SoF_096_pocahontas.MP3 .
Brandon Edwards Jun 2014
I'm not spewing no hate, I'm just being honest.
This not a Disney Channel movie, no Pocahontas.
Not really a fan of Father's Day, cause i ain't have a father.
I felt as a kid, he was just like why bother.

As i got older i wished that he had tried harder.
Consistent phone calls, that would have been a good starter.
But i ain't get any of it, and soon i was like **** it.
I got tired of waiting for something and receiving nothing.

At a point in time i started to hate him.
My heart for him was cold, like who the hell wants to chase him.
That feeling went on for a couple years.
My heart and mental kept changing like i was switching gears.

Since we being honest recently those feelings stopped.
You can't hate a stranger and truth is i don't know my pops.
Although you said you love me and i said i love you back.
Love and hate has twin rules, so what type of love is that.

I mean it's not sincere.
It's like you're pushed to say it like you're pressured by your peers.
And I'm not saying that it's sad and that brings me tears.
But man-to-man it ain't something that i want to hear.
Elijah Corbeau May 2014
Today, I have encountered something enchanting
Flowing through the outer forest, alighting
With birds and deer, All flora/fauna delighting
In her presence. I was taken to demanding
From myself a further look, reprimanding
my soul for wanting to see more of this beauty
Who could she be? This brown woman, set to soothing
my sailors heart? With another wayward glance,
She vanished- Leaving behind a memory, a missed chance;
And a man with knees too weak to stand.
When Abraham Lincoln was shoveled into the tombs,
  he forgot the copperheads and the assassin...
  in the dust, in the cool tombs.

And Ulysses Grant lost all thought of con men and Wall Street,
  cash and collateral turned ashes...
  in the dust, in the cool tombs.

Pocahontas' body, lovely as a poplar, sweet as a red haw
  in November or a pawpaw in May, did she wonder? does she remember?...
  in the dust, in the cool tombs?

Take any streetful of people buying clothes and groceries,
  cheering a hero or throwing confetti and blowing tin horns...
  tell me if the lovers are losers...
  tell me if any get more than the lovers...
  in the dust...
  in the cool tombs.
ghostsonpaper Feb 2015
after all her anxious scribbling
while chasing late night demons dreaming
she looks at the sky.
now it's so hard not to cry.
heavily sighing, but why?
is it even worth trying? oh I...
I don't know, I think I'll
save my tears for someone worth my time.
your pretty face isn't one that ever crossed my troubled mind.
when our flaws were all undone
in this battle no one has won.
and the mess we made
lies in scattered pieces on the floor.
you know I've always played it safe
too afraid of all the words I really want to say.
because I know aliens are real
so I'll never wish on shooting stars.
I can fly away in my ufo
while you drive off in your car.
heavily sighing, but why?
is it even worth trying? oh I...
and I don't mind
saying I'm a little cray from time to time.
you aren't the reason for all my sleepless nights.
but when our flaws have come undone
in this mess we have become
our hearts now shattered, lie in pieces on the floor.
oh I, I think I'll
save my tears for someone worth my time.
your pretty face isn't one that ever crossed my troubled mind.
now our flaws are so undone.
oh, what a mess we have become.
has nothing else mattered?
we can't pretend quite like before.
my heart just shattered, is it still beating?
because I swear I'm barely breathing anymore.
"because aliens are real and I only wish upon ufos" -miquela  (the quote and inspiration that started this♡)
MoMo  Jan 2013
Ethnicity
MoMo Jan 2013
I feel like I have the right
to cuss like a sailor
because I am the descendant of one.
I can remember the stories my mother used to tell,
of the man who made perfect pancakes.
It was all I knew about him besides the other story
about their first kiss in the rain,
then she married him.
And when I braid my hair
I am Pocahontas,
because if my great-grandfather whom I've never known.
I wish I'd been there
when my family lived in Morocco or Puerto Rico,
I wish I was foreign.
Even though,
it takes forever for my mother's files to go through anything
because she is not U.S. born.
I think I just want to know what box to check
in the race section of applications.
Ivymichelle Nov 2014
I am compassionate and pray hard,
because I am my own Snow White,
I am poise with my strong mind and spirit,
because I am my own Cinderella,
I am natural and cheerful,
because I am my own Aurora,
I am determined to follow my own dreams,
because I am my own Ariel,
I am loyal, outspoken and intelligent,
because I am my own Belle,
I am independent and have courage for myself,
because I am my own Jasmine,
I am brave and strong,
because I am my own Pocahontas,
I am bringing the honor for my family,
because I am my own Mulan,
I am faithful and assertiveness,
because I am my own Rapunzel,
I am not an ordinary Disney Princess,
because I am me.
Victoria Aug 2018
Disney didnt lie
You just haven't found the right guy
And I don't mean that "nice guy"
You know the one
That always wants to have fun
But always expectin sumin'
And sleeping beauty lyin in bed
Rattlin her head
Like Disney said i was a princess
But I feel like a Pauper instead
Because I havent found that kiss that opens up my eyes
And all these players out here are frog just tellin lies
In disguise
But I want a prince eric that goes into the ocean
I want me Aladdin that knows how to fly
But ofcorse Disney didn't lie
And I just haven't found the right guy
3 days to find love
But that ain't enough time
And im tryin to find a healing flower
That heals my broken heart
A genie in a bottle that would set me apart
Maybe one day I will turn in to a mermaid and live a life with music and art
But thats a farce
Maybe I will end up like elsa
Queen of the singles
Not needing to mingle
With the common folk
Sometimes I feel like Disney is a ******* joke
But I keep hearing that Disney didnt lie
And I just havent found the right guy
The guy that will give me all his time
The guy that isn't in it for the money
Or the glory
Or the crown
But im looking around and all I see are these clowns
And John isnt around to save his Pocahontas
Theres a long list
Of reasons I get ******
That flynn's not out here trying to give me a kiss
And I feel like my opportunity was missed
And I'm on the ground in some mist
Waiting for the dwarves to put me in a glass casket
And i just hear the same fact
****
That Disney didn't lie
I just havent found the right guy
This is a rap sorta

— The End —