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The rage, the grace, and the ferocity in between,
This relationship promised, to be nothing but pristine,
Calling out to me desperately, yearning to meet,
Now this is a bond, to which I could always retreat.

There it goes navigating, through the undergrowth,
Creating dense and lush bonds, tied by an eternal oath,
A stream giving life, to everything in its path,
This is a land that lives, beyond the clusters’ aftermath.

The stream takes us, to the hinterlands of civilization,
Technology absent, in the face of more than one distraction,
The blood red soil, furnishing the steady stilt houses,
This is where humanity comes to life, in many disguises.

Ambition stronger, than a finely brewed espresso,
A life seeped in tradition, transcends the status-quo,
Manifesting in the coffee, that shoulders the community,
The elements convene here daily, with sincere loyalty.
This piece is a dedication to wonders of nature and communities, often indigenous to those lands, that are so well integrated within the comforting confines of mother nature. Although the inspiration for this comes from many sources, it particularly refers to many elements of Laos – a country in Southeast Asia.
Cyan Aug 5
I wish I could hold you here
At home where I know
You’re safe.

When I hear the things
That happen these days,
The things that bitter people say
In this place your people
Were misplaced,
That they call theirs,

I fear for you.

I fear your rich dark skin,
Your tongue that rolls its Rs,
Will meet
Some semi-automatic response
To ignorance and fear
And you’ll be taken from this space
For no reason
But their hate.
Kore Jan 24

friend, companion, self-intellectualizing


who loves, cares, hurts
              [ me ]

lays an offering
of violence


this is how you love
           [ me ]
my friend hit me up just to show me the nathan phillips video (the first one, not his interview from today) because i'm the only native person he knows and didn't take into account the fact that all i've seen is this ******* video and it hurt me because he wanted my point of view as an indigenous person but just would not listen to me without arguing that the white kids could have maybe been in the right
annh Jan 11
Blind man walking - heals through touch,
Carries coconut oil in an old jam jar,
Trusts in the magic which guides his hands,
To carry his dusty feet home.
Based loosely on my brief acquaintance with a traditional Fijian bobo (massage) practitioner and healer named Rupeni from the village of Vunivesi, Vanua Levu. Vinaka vaka levu, Rupeni! :)
K Eaglechild Jan 10
Because I Am Indigenous.

There’s always a brume of skepticism (of fear) that will loom like a fly,
Slightly past 9:30pm on a Friday and the twilight is taking the sky
I find myself reciting; “It’s too dangerous. It’s too dangerous.”
I feel this way because it’s another day with another alert on the news broadcast; another “missing person’s” poster hanging on the bleak walls,
The articles are increasing while the fight to battle against it is decreasing,
We attend more social gatherings where we mourn more than we celebrate;
We mourn, can’t you hear us?  
Our missing indigenous women;
Of injured sisters, mothers, Aunty’s and cousins.
Of our murdered women.

There’s so much injustice and shame in our system,
Our voices get silence and we get dismissed with one wave of your ******* palm and no second glance.

Because I am Indigenous,
My cultural beliefs are frowned upon; my healing ceremonies that takes away the discrimination toxicity, my herbs that help heal my throat that’s yelling at you to listen,
My prayers in my two native tongues for those effected by your colonialism.
My cultural heritage that is label as witchcraft and locked away in shelves cloaked by their leatherback book that they hold so close to their sinful chests

And dangling cross.


Because I am Indigenous woman,
I am afraid to walk alone.

Because I am Indigenous,
I am afraid to be a victim of a hate-crime.

Because I am Indigenous.

I am also resilient.
Kore Nov 2018
redskin redskin redskin redskin redskin redskin redskin redskin
redskin redskindian        indian  redskin redskin redskin redskin
worthlessredskinscalpingbitchfeatherordot redredredred indian
redskin redskin redskin redskin redskin redskin redskin redskin
a pillage
and loot
this Saturday
night was
very cute
as me
foreboding but
outside the
coffeeshop with
a map
that haunt
madam dacha
with pouch
in debt
this resolute
capture was
Russian probe
a fallacy here
Kore Nov 2018
it's easy
     the hatred
of Me.

until I cease
          to blend

and what has
        been lying
in wait
marianne Nov 2018
to take pieces of land, like pie
purchased and stolen, like monopoly
and make it into something else,
like Europe

this was our promise

so like good soldiers
we planted our rows
cottonwood manioc peas and beans
painted flowers on walls
and floors, like our mothers
built porches for rocking chairs
to gather the children
and tell them all about it,
like refugees

the roots are deep now
but the ancient fear deeper
we glance over our shoulders, still
suspicious of our luck
awaiting the act of god that
will surely come,
like karma
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