Let me tell you a story about a man who had a revelation:

When he woke that morning,
He could swear, it all seemed normal, and ever so.. boring.


He stood up from bed,
Wondered what he could instead
Of cleaning his body, teeth and much less his head.

He was a working man.
He swore he had a plan.
To one day, own a beautiful car and home, possibly some land.

You may say it's normal and safe to think that way.
I'd say, It definitely felt good when I got paid.
The high was nice and I would have stayed.

But evidently that's not how the game is played.
Either way, I've strayed.
Let me get back to the man and how he changed one day.

He would always wonder about different ways.
Possibly living freely and in the flowers he could graze.
To stand boldly in the warm summer rays.

But those thoughts crumbled as his job gave him so much praise.
One month, he even got a raise.
He was being ****** into these typical ways.

But he would feel empty and lonely when he would work all day.
Wondering, why am I doing this anyway?
I remember hearing our ancestors didn't live this way.

Getting paid to create devices that save time.
Heh, It sounds insane and you'd be right to think so.
The things these devices do to the atmosphere is clearly a crime.

And as science develops and we see more clearly.
I can clearly see, this getting worse yearly.
That's a message from the earth, signing off sincerely.

He felt so trapped in someone else's plan.
Like he was almost being scammed.
As if the human world was run by an elitist clan.

He tried to tell people.
They called him insane.
Pointed him in the direction of a white steeple
...it all sounded the same.

Ya know, we all here playing a certain game.
If you play out of role you simply get shamed.
This is when he realizes he has things he needs to reclaim.

He calmly walks away, no worries, the time is always now and it's here to stay.
I won't run after someone that won't listen to me anyway
I'll find who I can and I'll be on my way.

Searching through the crowded streets and after hour performances with empty seats.
He realized that he may not find what he needs.
In this city of always active speed.

Taking his boots to the gravel.
He takes the road never traveled.
His story continues to unravel.

He plops his *** down below a tree and begins to hum.
He felt so alive as he chewed on the delicious tree gum.
So happy to be far away from the city ****.

He had merely clothing to keep him warm.
No cozy, quiet dorm
Certainly no shelter from the storms.

At times he would wonder.
Why do I yearn for something yonder?
He could never answer, only continue to ponder.

He awoke the next day.
Oh boy did his stomach have something to say.
He was tired, weak and vulnerable to prey.

Being a nomad was hard work, you would be foolish to lie.
He was merely a man
Barely getting by.

On the brink of death but most certainly not failure.
He realized he would settle down somewhere familiar.
He needed meat and plants to grow.

Gathering seeds and herding animals he became a master of sorts.
These were big jobs. But he didn't want to resort,
To asking another human for support.

He had left those ways and would never go back.
It seemed so long ago, even the snow had devoured his tracks.
But he surely was struggling to get even a snack.

In all of his woe
He promised himself to go with the flow.
One day, he came across another human. He was bound to say "Hello!"

It was awkward at first and words didn't know what to say.
He almost strayed away
When the man asked him if he needed a place to stay.

Tears were apparent but silent that day.
Maybe this is going with the flow and following his own way.
He was trying to hide his gitty insides but it was plainly on display.

He couldn't believe the amount of kindness that man gave.
It was very, very brave
For him to offer such a thing to a man who hadn't shaved.

But this was different, you know, not the same.
He had a keen eye for seeing through shallow games.
Being helpful and honest was his only aim.

If there was a moment that full filled any hole.
Any moment in time that proved we had souls
It had to have been the moment of the crunching of the gifted butter roll.


His belly was full and he couldn't believe it.
In his mind he had to admit.
Such a very nice thing from a man of the city, but he made no comment.

He learned that we need each other. We were born that way.
And is always reminded this lesson on a hungry feast day.

Gymnasiums
Modern battlegrounds,,
Those days...

Blood on the floor,
And spittle.

Rival towns,
White - Red.

Sitting Bull long gone,
Custer long dead.

Native sons,
Sons of pioneers
Still locked in enmities,
Remembrances of treaties broken,
Lying words,
Hatreds long unspoken.

So much of fear
So little trust,
Braggarts claiming coup,
Braggarts thinking war
Through basketball.

So it was one night
I slipped and fell
In a reservation gym,
Heard the hiss and laughter,
Felt the rush of fear...
Anger came.

Before my racist pride
Could grow,
I felt a hand,
Heard a voice,
"You okay?'
Spike Bighorn
Pulled me to my feet
Before a silent crowd.

A quiet act of bravery
That spoke aloud
Made me see the way
Through hate,
Set me on a path
To lead me forty years....

An act of kindness
In a place of fear
Defuses tension,
Ends the wars,
Shames the cowards,
Fills the void
With hope.

-------------------

This is the song of the handsome people
bleached white bones
dark red flesh
with wrinkles deep and old
as the desert.

Their arrows having disembarked
have faded into the
molten clay of the
mean-spirited earth.

Their heritage having been
habitually crushed with cause
for hatred has been
enveloped in peace and pride
and is cloaked in
dry hides.

Feathered in cold trails of tears
to match trails of aging
they have covered up their
misfortunes with song
and smoke.

Their rainbow carried by the wind
to some far-off pasture
rides on the backs of deer
and dead bison

to be consumed in smoke
and black flame.

The headdress danced in the sun
On the Indian's hollow
And eyeless skull.

It was framed in feathers
Brightly-colored serpents in the
Salty air flames licking at
Dancing and ***** bare feet.

Dark-skinned, tall, high cheekbones
And solemn eyes full of
Wisdom--he surveys the
Badlands, Moses's rigid face
Blank and silent in a
Heatwave desert.

Beyond the teepees and the
Black bonfire smoke and
The buffalo rhythm, the plateau has
Risen, bleached bones
Litter the plains as a constant
Reminder.