Zan Balmore May 17

Join hands
at the campfire

Wish into
the night
for transfer
from states

in love.


i know i know i know

we know we know we know

heavens won't save us

I wager
weapons etch distant
moons with craters.


My wife started walking around
In Melania Trump's shoes.
I don't know how she got ahold of them?
I didn't understand her motive?
If she continues to walk around
In Melania Trump's shoes,
In the Mile High City,
Some Mexican Homegirl
Is inevitably
Gonna' have to
Kick her ass.

The Gentrifiers tried to eliminate  Insanity,
But created more Insanity in the process.
By trying to "ethnically cleanse" the kooks,
They created a fertile environment
For Resistance.

CA Guilfoyle May 7

From mud walled homes
these remnants come, artifacts of shell and bone
leather shoes and deerskin coats
woolen blankets and woven rugs,
baskets for storing grain and corn.

Grinding stones and sun bleached bones
antiquities and memories found in fields of sand,
necklace beads of finest hammered silver
now forgotten and lost, and too the river's water.

Came a sorrowful war with bullet guns
that pierced the heart of every man
no match for shooting arrows.

Zan Balmore Mar 28

When all the water has left
the dry Earth will sing to Sky
Return, please, return!
Both the stone pulling
and the void pulling
like to kiss in the middle
of war. Scorched turns to damp
in the end, providing our
diligence and duty to life.
It's shameful the water goes
now when such destruction
hangs in the near distance.
Diligence may no more undo
the damage, for the time
has gone as well.


is why we do
what we do
that is why we are vulnerable

does anyone else
notice that there are no natives
close enough
on waking up
I bet you think this poem is about you
who knows the plants?
the trees?
who can speak to nature
and make agreements with it?
who signed the organic peace treaties?
organic contracts
who tried torturing ethnicities
into demanding to the death
they are in the state of whiteness?
You do not understand how lost
until you call for help
out of desperation
into nativeless derangement
you were wrong
about being able to control nature
and there is nothing you know
that is organic that can renegotiate
the organic peace treaty

JR Rhine Jan 25

I receive your native tongue
like a desperate missionary--

letting it run over my teeth,
stroking the roof of my mouth,
and dancing with my own foreign entity.

I come to you aching
to inhale your exhale,
place my lips to yours.

In the diaspora of spit
from your mouth to mine,
deliver unfathomed riches
of love and wisdom

into my trembling body.

A door
of trust
there may
open this
floodgate as
more orientals
come to
America again
in hopes
that their
meeting now
succumb as
such their
people live
well here
and want
eqaul pay.

Michelle Obama is hopeless?
Why SHOULD she have any hope?
It's been a hopeless situation
Ever since Christopher Columbus
Arrived on the shore of the Island of Hispaniola.
His first words upon seeing the nearly naked bodies
Of Native American Women was,
"Let's fuck them bitches!"
That probably wasn't the way Conquistadors spoke,
But That was just the way they ACTED!
The next Question was,
"Where's the Gold?"
It's been all downhill since then.
The Fact that Barack Obama
Was our "First Black President"
Didn't shift this pattern one iota.
It's worse than ever now!
The shit started hitting the fan a long time ago
And we haven't even BEGUN
To clean it up.

Ma Cherie Dec 2016

I cannot take this scorching heat,
I need to rest my burning feet,
I do not submit,
I can't say defeat,
nor will I run back in retreat,
please I beg a needed seat,
I hear ahead a native beat,

I move my hands in the softest wheat,
awaiting me my native greet me
lovely familiar & very sweetly,

They clear for me some lovely aisles,
I've walked a hundred thousand miles,
I've smiled a hundred million smiles,
endured a hundred billion trails,
as they took my blood in greedy vials,

I held hands steady all the while,

My lips are parched,
my body blistered,
my ink is dark no longer glistered,
there's a sturdy board to which I've sistered,

Teardrops fall like steady pounding rain,
she looks high above in light to strain,
she knows it could not possibly be in vain,
she believes inside she can take the pain,

To see a lovely glimmer of hope
on the distant horizon blue,
violet pink and tangerine are her favorite shaded hues,
she sees a favorite angel who's giving her a little cue,
come to my my darling here's the needed clue,
everything at once will eventually be clear to you,

You are blessed,
kissed by luck and fate,
and today just wasn't quite the date,
now you know why we never hate,
you glimpsed a moment inside the pearly gates,

I release you back to those you eternally, love,
I gift you back there,
with fervent praying hands from all above.

Cherie Nolan © 2016

Near death experience, from my past ❤
Sistered is a word my Father used.
Next page