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**** of innocent squaw king “noble savage

as coined by Jean Jacques Rousseau. –

     men of yore abusive, deceptive, heave, murderous scamps, thus no different than modern roman font size twelve times.
     i ponder what this tract of heavily commercialized former farmland looked like before European settlers bull dozed their might (against indefensible right) eventually liquidated every last native inhabitants, and paying tacit homage by hash-tagging those who bore a greater birthright to remain, boot the primitive means of self defense out gunned by aggressive intruders, and now the ghosts of wantonly slain innocent kindred folk, who endowed sanctity to this tortured planet prompts me wonder at the lost innocence (childlike) respect toward aged elderly, whose oral knowledge encompassed the know how regarding survival skills now lost.
a column of el nina fury swept ashore
with santa maria frenzy like a beastly bus
gone wild as teenagers during spring break
hedonistically frolic and cuss
oblivious of the native tribes,
who once blissfully n’er dealt with a fuss
of bacchanalian, leviathan,
saturnalian proportions spreading ****
when ill animalistic germs disguised then
triangulated within narrowing pen
contaminated, decimated, eradicated “red” men
once a collection of indomitable
indigenous separate “nations”
plucked by nemesis of free-wheeling
invaders, who usurped america as their den
releasing poison couched as religion into the air
which indignities true colors became readily clear
when europeans “discoverers”
deliberately fomented war-fare
to those whose instincts
found themselves in deadly cross hair
as every square inch of “new world”
grimly rustled peace in every lair

with deadly piping hot metallic bullets with near
e chance for aboriginal peoples that seemed queer
with unfamiliar customs on par with a satyr
without the means to escape any direction they did veer
cohesion of unity did completely annihilate without a trace
forced to endure countless cruelties
i.e. a holocaust usurping space
that belonged to those, who stood apart as
utopian temperate separate race
paraded as “exotic specimens” in some faraway place
bandied about as if they happen
to be some rare refinery like silken lace
cheated, finagled, inveigled,
lured, oppressed, root from entire face
of their rightful home by
chicanery, frippery, illusory and base
though with hawk like vision totally blind
to banality, deviltry, effrontery,
gimcrackery, hostility though dined
with fool-hardy, mockery,
travesty from Europeans whose dreams lined
against so called “brutish
and nasty” original occupants who maligned
innocent amazingly gracefully
lean peoples who did pine
for lovely bones where ancestors
warriors descendants withered on vine
against vanquished population
resembling Asian creed
whence soldiers commemorated
for revenge as worshipful deed

shackled, ***** only in death freed
yet in lethality our forebears flush with greed
which cruelty, debauchery, enmity,
ferocity – essentially genocide knew no heed
feigning sincerity, yet holding
murderous rapacity to slay every hide despite plead
and exchanging peace pipe made of reed!
Spenser Bennett May 2016
I've never seen the sun set
Over Calumet
Sound out the golden Lake
I gave you my best

I've lost my share of old friends
To death and debts
He gives but he can't take
Know that this knows no ends

Come down from your cloud
We can talk this out

Come down from your cloud
We can make it out now

I've felt the Sun's rising heat
Alone in St. Pete
Drown my flickering beat in white sand
Gave it up to sleep

I've found myself in loneliness
And dying less
The glistening glass couldn't sting my hand
And I'm feeling less than feeling blessed

Come down from your cloud
We can talk this out

We can make it out
A feeble attempt at lyrics, please feel free to criticize and deconstruct.

— The End —