#chief
Hail to Jesus ever living
Hail to Christ the newborn King
Hail to Him whose love gushed forth
Hail to Him they call the Lord
Hail the Prince of Peace, the great I AM
Hail to thee; roaring lion, spotless lamb
Hail to thee our Glorious Savior
Hail to God the wondrous maker
Hail to Him the author of creation
Hail to Him who died for our salvation
Hail to Him who loved unto death
Hail to Him by whose grace I draw breath
Hail to the king of the whole universe
Hail the flood of grace in which I immerse
Hail the strong and gentle nail-scarred hands
Hail the cost which perfect love demands
Hail to Him who is the Chief
Hail the one in whom I believe
Hail the rock upon which I stay
Hail the Life, the Truth, the Way!
Nov 1, 2024
Nov 1, 2024 at 10:07 PM UTC
electrocution marks
the hall
with flatulence
that table
jars a
rebuttal from
his umbrage
their rounds
o explosives
polarized steps
in building
avenue to
the union
with twist
whether turbulent
lifestyle now
this millennium
Nov 23, 2018
Nov 23, 2018 at 8:05 AM UTC
George Washington and Abraham Lincoln
mythologized commanders in chief
epitomized supreme martial mien
and vocalized special flair
talents summoned
from their native heart-land motif
in Modus Operandi of bootstraps dare
acquired evanescent mythic reverence
extant within bibliographic brief
and closest role to God like air.
Said first and sixteenth president
storied figurative bookends
stood side by side
honored on anniversary of their birth,
now renown across divers
places far and wide
over this one in a million (or billions)
cosmic entities known as planet Earth
for courage and strength which forged
that unique American sense and sensibility
in tandem with prejudice pride
forthwith esprit de corps touched,
when above named
epitomized, , eulogized,
exemplified strapping youths
vigorous lifestyle wrought washboard girth
kindling psyches,
and lit fires within homes and hearth.
These outsize personas held ephemeral dream
where fledgling American state
acquired sterling reputation
wherein this country
under aegis of Democracy
became a winning team.
Among the legends and lore
surrounding each of these great men
their stature grew more and more
cult like benevolence these paternal figures
United States can never ignore.
Jan 8, 2018
Jan 8, 2018 at 2:59 PM UTC
in a cozy nest
the sect of snakes
did reside
with the chief asp
holding a strong
preside
none would ever move
until he gave an okay
to defy his edicts they'd
be thrown out of the shay
an uncomfortable position
the servile vipers were in
each of them had disclosed
secrets to the overlord's ear tin
after a time the snug abode
imploded on the leader of the sect
the underlings obtained some smarts
and wouldn't willingly genuflect
Mar 1, 2017
Mar 1, 2017 at 9:28 PM UTC
A chief
entirely good
with assent
sought when
he aspired
leadership in
parochial while
his lifestyle
supported a
ritual in
high court
though his
reason without
doubt there
is solid
with omnibus
opinionated height.
Sep 29, 2016
Sep 29, 2016 at 4:34 PM UTC
The forested breeze blew eastwards. On each swing of the wind, the birds flew and fluttered. Each of their wings swaying to find a harmonious balance. The sweet melody of ethnic hymns from the native village rose above the trees. The sequenced output with equalised acapella became an anthem that ruled the forests.The gravelled path structured it's way between the trees right to the heart of the village.
The village elder sat outside the middle hut. His hut stood out from those encircling it. Humbled in stature but yet symbolically decorated with colourful redness of the roses. The beautiful scented ambience rose to fuel the air within and around. The door of the hut was formatted with sculptured inscriptions that had a covert meaning. A story line about the long historic lineage of leaders. The entrance of the doorway was guarded by two warriors. Each of them had a shield and spear, alert and portraying courage. Their bodies were bare ready to attack the enemy, their groins fully formed and covered with ***** The sight of the hut itself was magnificent...... it's aura radiant with an embodiment of hereditary and hierarchical authority.
As the village chief watched the birds sway and whistle, he sat on his antique stool. In the openness of the nature he appeared puzzled. As he shrugged his symbolic leopard hide on his back.... it swung side to side. Still in situ, but there was something about it's presence that nagged him. He touched it and then speedily moved his hand from it. He then raised his voice. "Amita!"
His voice echoed and roared penetrating all the homesteads. By the time the volume of the echo subsided he called out again "Amita, Amita, Amita!"
Amita came running and knelt at the feet of the Chief. She replied "Yes Chief Hashi. I am here for your service Sir!"
Amita was a 21 year old girl. She was wearing a straw skirt. Her arm was tattooed with a prominent artistic representation of a snake swinging from the tree. The shades of the red snake pictured on the hues of the green tree. This symbolised that she was a servant and lived at the Chief's Quarters. Amita had sacrificed her life as her lineage did to serve the Chief and his household. A dedication of servanthood to the Chief and him alone.
Amita bowed as she knelt, her bare ***** ***** and shadowing the Chief's feet. The chief looked at Amita as if hyptonised by the touch of her ******* He glared at her beauty, the outstanding womanhood she poised. After a long pose of silence the Chief responded, " Amita, can you fix my hide ensuring that it's attachments are secure"
There was a level of vulnerability that the chief showed Amita. He appeared to be humble, a denudation of authority, that very call of submission. There was evidently a reciprocal of roles as Amita raised her eyes from the ground to face the Chief. As their eyes met the Chief hastily paused and froze as if speechless. As he gathered his senses he was firmly able to look at Amita and said, " Can you join me inside my hut please?"
Amita remained kneeling as the Chief stood up from his stool. Chief Hashi steadily walked to the doorway of his hut. Pace after pace, stroll after stroll. As he walked by the doorway the warriors raised their spears to his presence. He was proudly ushered to his exquisite residence. He then faced the warriors and asked them to leave guard. Chief Hashi requested, "Can you come back after two hours." As the guards walked away the Chief in his freedom danced around, hysterically moving his hands multi-directionally.
Chief Hashi opened the window to his hut. This was adjacent to where Amita was kneeling. In his vulnerability he whispered, "My child Amita, get up and join me inside my hut. The door is open and ajar.... always for you my queen."
Amita stood up from the kneeling position and run her way into Chief Hashi hut.
Mar 6, 2016
Mar 6, 2016 at 5:29 AM UTC
Where is my love? Where is my child?
Where have they gone to, and where am I?
Where is my daughter and where is my wife,
Have they forgot me, after all this time?
My body lies under ancient stone
Encased in a box
Away from my home
Is there a Knight who can save my soul?
Take me back to the land I know
I wait and I long for my home
Under the sign of the Weathered Wolf
Here in my grave, not alive but awake
Weary and restless all the same
Where is my love, where is my life?
Do they miss me, are they still alive?
How long has it been? Have they gone with the wind?
No rest from the questions in my mind
Somebody please, come rescue me
My soul is tied to the wrong side of the sea
My body lies under ancient stone
Encased in a box
Away from my home
Is there a Knight who can save my soul?
Take me back to the land I know
I wait and I long for my home
Under the sign of the Weathered Wolf
Feb 24, 2016
Feb 24, 2016 at 8:53 PM UTC
I was playing a game with my kids the other day
I asked:
What do you use to see?
She said 'your eyes'
He said 'your brain'
Both right
Next I asked what do you use to hear?
She said 'your ears'
He said 'your brain'
Both right, again
The wisdom of children!
The game ended there but it got me thinking about what we use to feel
The most straight forward answer is our skin
Your brain is what processes the sense of touch so that has to be included
What about your heart?
Where does it fit into the big scheme of things?
Isn't the heart the space where we process feelings?
I have to loosely define things and often turn them upside down
ruminate
reorder my worldview to make it copacetic
I'm pretty sure that I often walk in two worlds
If my mind is simply locked in the western paradigm then people look at me like I'm bizarre
I'm not joking when I say they've wanted to lock me up because of my views
When I allow my mind to get locked into this western paradigm,
I sometimes even feel like I belong in lockup.
That's even worse than being held against your will
You're being held because you've lost your will
So I play with definitions to better suit my needs
When you do this however, there is a risk
Last summer I unlocked a spectre as I drank deeply and greedily from Crypt Lake
Crypt Lake is a real place on this planet
How did it get it's name (you might ask)?
According to the Blackfoot, placenames aren't given,
they come from place
Let's contextualize ~ this is all part of the journey
The physical leads to the spiritual and vice versa
To get to Crypt Lake you have to enter Waterton-Glacier International Peace Park
Found in the southwest corner of Alberta and the northwest corner of Montana
Once through the gates you have to catch a boat at a certain time
You have to be in the physical plane of existence at this point otherwise you're not getting on that boat
Once you get to the trailhead, then you can start to drift
That's what I did
As I walked, I let the stories come into me
I let them flow through me
They were sitting there waiting to be told
A spruce, arm in arm, with a pine
Hawks circling overhead
An ever present alertness for our bear brethren
Always open to the wildflowers
Indian paintbrush (I have red hair could I be considered an indian paintbrush?)
Pollinators flitting about
Oh, the water
Listen to the stories the water told:
First we come to Hell Roaring Falls
Next Twin Falls
Next Burnt Rock Falls
And to reach the Crypt, we have to pass through a mountain tunnel
Opening up to Crypt Falls
and finally Crypt Lake
This is a regular heroes journey if you allow it to be
I was in that place in my mind where I allowed it to unfold as it may
This is a place that's also known as the Crown of the Continent
Not far away is Chief Mountain, Turtle Mountain, and Crowsnest Mountain
Also Writing-On-Stone and the Milk River and Sweetgrass
These are holy names, this is a holy land
What I saw at Crypt Falls was the backbone of the continent
I saw the backbone of Turtle Island
I was floored
I had been on a continent wide spirit quest a few years previously
There was talk that the Deed for Turtle Island was coming due
And maybe it would be produced at one of these gatherings
We all waited but nobody produced it
I ruminated on that idea for a few years
I'm pretty sure that the Deed was there
Those who held it, just didn't realize
I learned something at the Crypt
I wanted answers and I made an assumption
I assumed that the water held the answers
So I drank deeply, even greedily from the Crypt
Right there in the international peace park, on the crown of the continent
With the Old Chief and the Crowsnest not far away
Writing-On-Stone just a sashay away
What about writing in calcium?
If I were the earth, I would encode important information in something
Transmutable
Not blood.
Bones
What I learned up there on the mountain as I gulped down knowledge from the Crypt was that the deed is written into the bones of the land and into the bones of those borne of that land
This is indigenous knowledge
It's in the water, the water is the medium for the message
The bones are the stock
But just like a double helix
A genetic sequence is an expression of time and place
On a certain spacetime continuum this innocuous looking structure
(take a look in the mirror)
Has all the necessary answers
Oct 10, 2014
Oct 10, 2014 at 10:48 PM UTC