HUMAN HISTORY 2: LET'S DANCE
(A few words of acknowledgement: While these are my ideas and thoughts, I drew heavily on the story of 'Waterlily', written by Ella Cara Deloria. The discussion between the two Sioux women described below are drawn from this book. Her book beautifully details the life of 2 Dakota Sioux women and with them the customs, beliefs and beauty of the Dakota Sioux people. I am deeply in her debt.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

'Let's dance.
Lets dance.
Put on your red shoes and dance the blues.'
-D. Bowie


I.
'Hao, Kola!'
'Hao, Kola!'
Greetings between two
darkly tanned men, black hair
long and waving erratically in the wind,
their deep black eyes smile
and embrace these two warrior friends.
'Hao, Kola!'

II.
Out in the open prairie,
under an intense blue sky,
a few sharply white clouds
float in contrast against it;
two Peoples drew towards
each other for a ceremonial sing,
as was customary before the Great Sun Dance.

Ill.
'Hokahe'. 'Hokahe'.
'Hokahe'. 'Hokahe'.
Dakotas and Omahas meet.'
Hokahe' floats on the fresh morning breeze.
Colorful war standards wave and
flirt about gracefully.
The Omahas have come to sing.
The Omahas, proud, magnificently bold.
The Omahas, self assured in painted red face,
wearing heavily fringed buckskin white,
brilliantly adorned.
With war standards and lances held high,
the Omahas were a breath taking sight.
As there on the prairie's lush green grass
Omahas greet Dakotas with ceremonial song.

IV.
Two Dakota women overheard talking:
Blue Bird: 'You met them?! What are
white people really like?
Are they gentle, kind, as their
skin would imply?'
Smiling One: 'No, they are very hard, very
stern and dull towards each
other. They pass each other without
recognition. Very unmannerly.'
Blue Bird: 'And what about the children?
How do they play?'
Smiling One: 'Oh, this is so sad I would
say. I don't understand the
reasoning behind their ways.
These people actually detest
their children. You should see
them; slapping their little one's
faces and lashing their poor little
buttocks to make them cry!
Yelling and screaming at them
anytime of the day. I have never
seen children treated this way!!'
Blue Bird: Deep in thought, hugs little
Water Lily. She feels sick with
sympathy for these unknown
children. Only crazy people
teach their children like this.
What makes white people act so crazy?

V.
The Sun Dance time has arrived.
All the different Peoples, Tribes.
The Dakota, Teton, Omaha
make good on their vows
to the Great Spirits,
renew the hopes of their families
for peace and plenty from the land.
And they danced.
Looking straight into the sun,
because they knew it was what made them one
with the world and each other.
And they danced.
Time itself was lost in the sun
and new life was begun.
And they danced.
Danced around and sacrificed on
the clean cut pole,
blessed and made holy
just for this ceremony.
And they danced.
Till the sun was thrice Earth eaten
and moon time rose full in the sky.
But now on a different scene
and a People from so long ago,
who in their naked skin,
danced and howled at the moon.
Howled at the dead and the living.
Howled and danced,
danced and howled cause they were human.

VI.
Alone,
orbiting on this blue-toned Earth
I want to ask:
When will we, today’s humans dance?
Dance in global community?
Dance on the lush green grassy plains?
Dance on high hillsides, howling at a full, lush moon?

VII
'Let's dance.
Let's dance.
Put on your red shoes and dance the blues...'

~~written 10.1.98~~

Sifting through the confetti
of the nightmare that snowed
me in, looking for the remnants
of my armour that melted
from my skin, I barely breath
through lungs that have been
completely singed by sin
Coffee colored caricatures
laugh softly at an empty
attempt to rearrange scattered
memories, untwisting skeletons
that are bent while crushing dreams
into tin can cymbals arguing
against the tunes that have fled
I deny to partake of the feast
today
I think I'll stay abed

Someday, I'm going to look at you at not feel anything anymore.
I'm not going to want to look into your eyes
and see how big and bright they shine in the light.
I'm not going to want to remember
the way my head would fit into your shoulder
like that space was made just for me.
I'm not going to scroll through our texts or pictures
and smile or laugh about the memories.
I especially won't cry over you anymore
because I'll know that you were never worth it.
I'll realize that nothing lasts forever
and even though I tried so hard to make you stay
I knew there was a reason I had to let you go.
I'll be okay with it someday
and that someday is today.

1
i carry with me at all times a single fond memory of you ******* out venom from under my skin, right where you forgot you put it a very long time ago, —and beneath my eyes, as the vitreous shrinks and contracts, every sweep of your tongue becomes another dilution of the pigment of my iris, and every stem or stalk taken from the roof of your mouth, here is where hell begins—and i carry in me at all times your own discarded cells, and the stalactites of your bones beneath. here is where

2
you let me drown, which i will not blame you for, but i will blame you for the tears of my lovers all shed over not having a body to bury, or to dig back up, or to hold, simply because you couldn’t swim—but i couldn’t either and did i let that stop me? at least we know now which one of us is more so the coward, or i guess was

3
(…which was my worst fear if i am being honest, if i had ever told you: they say there are two deaths but i know there are three. the first is when you are buried; the second is when your name is said for the last time; and the third is when the worms give up because there is not enough left of you to bother their mouths with)

4
nothing i say makes any sense today
you took my tongue; give it back, give it back

5
it all comes back to an oral fixation, i know that, just wish i could tell you why

6
—no, i remember why now, it’s because
you kissed the soil of my grave when you thought i wasn’t looking but the joke is finally on you because decomposition had begun early—sickness is the only bedfellow we’ll ever have—and after that comes

7
return to start?

For about six years,
I haven't been able to control my emotions.
For about six years,
I've struggled to wake-up in the mornings without wanting to change who I am.
For about six years,
I have given-up every single poistive thing about me
because I am hooked.
For about six years,
I thought I was cool.
For about six years,
I thought my life was riding high on "Cloud-9"
For about six years,
I've been dependent on any chemical that will alter my mind.
For about six years,
I've struggled to look at my own reflection.
For about six years,
I've made my family cry and push me away.
For about six years,
I've watched friends come and go.
For about six years,
I've been lying to the people I love.
For about six years,
My life has been nothing but a blur.

For about six years,
I've wanted to stop.

And today
will be
that
day.

Today I told God
Of all I have done
Locked myself up
pulled out a gun

Everything stopped
The lights went dim
This is the reason
I'm talking to him

I know that if you have a problem
I'd be there with you
I know that if you had to choose
be with someone new
I would think of your tomorrows
Future will be blue
But sometimes I'd just be right back and you'd be someone true

But the futures looking bright on me
Something's feeling right with me
Don't be afraid
To take this all away
Stranger things have happened to me

I know if you sang songs with me
I'd be happy too
All those days and all those nights
I dreamed of times with you
If it's gone we'll a problem
You don't want to lose
Sleep those restless nights away
And I will think of you

But the time has shown to me
That you are best for me
Lets fly away
Our love today
Stranger things have happened to me

I have a million words to say
How I'm hollow today.
Yet, no one can hear me.

But,

If I drown myself into water
To washed away this aches forever,
Will you see my worth?

If tonight, I drank this seven pills
To stop this heart that kills,
Will see my pain?

If I hang myself in the ceiling
To end this empty feeling
Will you wish to fixed me?

Because,

I tried to be a conqueror.
I tried to be a survivor.
But, no one is here to be my listener.

Ink flowed from the pen with such ferocity. He often was lost for words but not today. No today was different. The pen couldn't keep up with the words tumbling out of his headspace. The pen was thrown and the keypad assaulted. This was war. A war with himself. A war of lost words.

It’s one of those days
Where the mask is slipping
The only smile I can muster
Is so weak and pitiful
I don’t even try
The pain is just under the surface
On the verge of tears
All day long
It was just a single memory
Tugging on the vestments of our marriage
Unraveling what has already been torn apart
Into a tangled knotted mess
One thought that cascades
Into every other memory
Seeking the truth
In all of this
Where did it go wrong?
Where did I go wrong?
What was the starting point
For the ending?
I come to realize
It’s not the warning signs
I neglected to heed
It was the warning sirens
I didn’t want to hear
The excuses made
Realities altered
All the little straws
Thrown upon my back
Now feel like logs
I know there was a time
When I loved her
I know because it hurts
Hurts that I tried
And nothing really mattered
Not me
Not us
Just her
Now the pain
Is just a dull nagging ache
No longer sharp
I try not to let her cut me anymore
But she still does
And she doesn’t even know it
Worn out
Worn down
Worn away
Not much is left
Good memories?
Tainted by
Unanswered questions
I guess it doesn’t really matter
Did she ever really love me
We don’t share
We don’t care
We don’t dare
Today is hard
Hard to remember
When it was good
Hard to fake a smile
I don’t feel
On the verge of tears

oh undertaker
a high school poet died today
and they say

popularity is just relatability
see them in that mirror watching you
but check your compacts at the door
(look them in the eye)

they might **** you tonight
oh undertaker
how did they die last night?
forced the knife of lips
and lies into their minds
hit by a train full speed before the station lights
could see them in the way

we hate what we see
staring back, fade to black
in this highschool drama scene
who the **** are you?
can't be me
because i know myself, and this
dyed hair, straight kicks, concert tix
i see. that kid just aint all me

it might **** me tonight
oh undertaker
how do they die alone at night?
forcing the knife of lips
and lies into their minds
hit by a train full speed before the station lights
could see them in the way

give me my pen it's stronger
than the wings of that waterproof eyeliner
you cried off in the bathroom stall
last tuesday
oh undertaker, you
drew em back, of course
sharper than a sword but twice as brittle
because you hate the way they frame
her eyes, and your lies too

they might **** you tonight
oh undertaker
how did you die last night?
forced the knife of lips
and lies into their frozen faces
crushed by a train full speed before the station lights
could see them in the way

tonight, check you faces at the door
come in clear
and dont check your face to see
who's looking at you
we all see the same screen
our pores in bass-relief
tombstone grief

The ancient town of Glastonbury stands proud
known for its famous Tor.
And leylines that converge in fertile earth
surrounded by human history.
Mystical, today commercialised they flock
soaking up power and to rock.

As this isolated Somerset town is engaging
colourful characters thrive.
Bringing the past and its history to life
as Pagan and Christian mingles.
Once an island surrounded by marshland
an aura of magic is at hand.

Here there's a sense of timeless wonder!

The Foureyed Poet.

im trapped in a box
a box that is hidden somewhere deep inside
it's cold , dark, and lonely in here
nothing goes in and nothing goes out
i can leave my box anytime i want
but why should i?
so i can feel the pain, the sadness
so i can see the hate and the deceit
so i can taste the bitter sweetness of being unloved and unwanted
i think not, not today
but someday

I read a comment from a friend today
She said she liked my note
It was a poem about 4 certain words
A quick one that I wrote
She said she liked Old Fairy Stories
I didn't have a clue
Was she talking gay old pooftahs
Or just fairies dressed in blue
Liberace, Quentin Crisp
Have lots of tales to tell
But, was she speaking of these fairies
Or of ones that cast a spell ?
I wasn't sure of whom she spoke
Which fairy tales she liked
Was she a big fan of Tinkerbell
Or of big, princesses named Mike?
So, I figure I'll just wait and see
I'll write one for Eileen
It'll be the strangest Fairy Tale
That she has ever seen...
Once Upon a time.......

Afterward,
I asked “Where to?”
“The beach?” She replied
“Too cold.” I said.
“Fine, whatever. Take me home, I guess.”
She’s too much like you.

Even now, ten years later,
she still swims in my old hoodie.
The pink and blue butterflies on her fingernails
barely escape the sleeves.

We’re sitting in the sand
she is looking at the water
as if searching for something far out in the distance.

Remember when we babysat
all those years ago?
She stole my hoodie
called it her “Cloak of Invincibility”.
She meant Invisibility,
we were watching Harry Potter.
Today, I wish it were the former.

“Are you going to tell my mom?” She asked.
“No.” I said “But you should.”
I wanted to tell her about what happened in ‘92
about her mother’s battle with depression
after a similar thing happened with her
but that’s your sister’s story to tell
so I did what you always say I should
and let the quiet between us be.

I watched the waves roll in
and crash against the shore.
I noticed heavy grey clouds heading toward us
“It’s going to rain” I said
“Let it.” she replied, with a calm acceptance.

She’s grown up so much
since the cancer took you from us.
You wouldn’t even recognize her.

She looks nothing like her mother
Or her father, for that matter
She looks
…well, she looks like you.
The spitting image.

“Why the beach?” I asked
after a long while of listening to the waves.
“This is where it happened.”
I felt an anger rise up through me
and I was already clenching my fists
before I realized there was no direction
for that aggression to go.

I took a deep belly breath,
and refocused.

“Why come back here?”
“to see if it felt different.”
“Does it?”
“…a little.”
More silence.

I watched her writing things in the sand
with a broken stick she found
and then pushing her palm across the words,
wiping the letters into each other,
cleaning the slate,
and again, writing in the sand.

“You know…” She said, finally,
“I was thinking for a while,
about keeping it.
if I had,
if it were a girl,
I would have named it after her."
she didn't have to say your name out loud
for me to know
“I miss her,” she added

"Me too".
The waves kept hitting the shore
and eventually, the rain came.

I drove her home,
she offered to give back my hoodie
“Keep it.” I said, smiling
she shrugged and took it with her.

On the way home,
I drove passed our old house
the new owners are letting the grass grow
too long for my taste.
It seems everything has been growing in your absence.
Except me.

Step out in fashion style
Rearranging what you already have in fashion while
Add to accompany to impress
Add that vest to bring out the best
The right dress and blazer to excess
No need to buy a new outfit
Turn your wardrobe closet with what you previously wore into a whole new fashion
It’s about style and how confident you feel
Make your fashion statement come out for real
No matter what fashion clothes you have, you can make your wardrobe come alive like fashion of today
Start your fashion on its way
You are the Fashion runway
Turn old fashion style into something new
Take that blue and add white
Turn red be out of sight
Why pay money and give the stores
Your own closet should be your only explore
Use what clothes currently have and turn into fashion of tomorrow
You didn’t know you had that
Your own closet you and even you can’t keep track
It’s a known fact
So Jacket, skirt, Blouse and dress
Turn that wardrobe into what it is worth
Men, man your closet fashion to impress
Ladies and Men look your very best
Old wardrobe can become new fashion
Always remember, you are the compliment
The successor being the Fashion Professor
You now know how fashion is done
You are ready to do your own fashion test being for fun

today, you may be a closed tulip. but as the minutes roll by, you will slowly blossom. the wind will kiss your petals, and the rain will startle you. the sun will warm you up, and the bees will seek you as a resting place. through it all, you will stretch your leaves toward the sky, and your seeds will sprout. you will brighten days, and you will continue the circle of life.

One day, it was of one so bland
No note I took that was so grand
A lazy moment, I looked upon
Some random words, soon to be gone

Without thought I answered thee
And never thought that I would be
Captured by prose that came from you
I doubt, I knew you were not true

Yet with what you gave in return
A spark for what has yet to burn
Drawn like a moth upon a flame
In time lost focus within your game

And allowed your scrutiny
The secret buried deep in me
With test and trial you rose above
Yet with resistance I would not love

For feeling was not what I knew
And I could not allow from you
To gain the power and take from me
What held me up above the sea

Of misery, I have only known
No love, no joy, what has not grown
Yet with each word that came from you
The crack upon my wall broke through

The rush, emotion within a flash
That wondrous moment soon came a crash
Into my soul and shaken me
Stripped from my armor and set me free

With wonder I have walked anew
This path, in hand I take with you
But wait, this cannot be real
My heart, my soul, this love I feel

Each day, I wake hope to believe
That we’ve made stronger this wondrous weave
From chaos, turmoil to spirit free
Someone I thought I’d never be
Today I look back to when
And hope to see you once again
Short time has passed yet I do know
God no!!! Let not my doubt to grow!

Perhaps I have been so deceived
Autre persona has no reprieve!
Begone, leave me, I cannot bear
Too long your presence born its wear

Leave me, allow myself retreat
To where I do not claim defeat
This inner world no one I share
Where I am safe, my soul to bare

Forgive me, for I do not trust
What I thought love, perhaps just lust
How I wish that I am wrong
To be with one whom I so long

But fear has always taken hold
Allow me not to be so bold
I fail, I see, I cannot be
The girl I thought was true to me

My mind is racing, the finish line is just a little farther. My heart stretches but can't reach. It can't reach the goal I've strived to accomplish. For it only shadows and scars those who love. Theres fear in my head, theres pain in my ashure eyes. This strange feeling scares me. It scars a heart that has been through hells unremorse. No hand nor heart could heal its wounds, only true hearts can heal the broken. A dark heart only fails to realize the reality behind its darkness and hate. Beyond the crowd, is where the creed resides. The true Kings and Queens of the Heart. My heart is in an inbalance with its soul that keeps it beating. With one knife ******, it could end. With one bullet, it could be no more. The true heart must reside, and survive the greatest feat its ever known. Strange lives are lived today, but only the shadow of that demon remains. Within its snare is a lonely soul, with no love that remains.

I arrived to class several minutes late, parking was terrible.
Darting between seats, I wandered towards my seat.
There she was sitting across from my seat at the table; the purple girl.
Today she looked over at me and smiled, then resumed listening to the lecture.
Her purple pencil flicked up and down as she passively tapped it against her open notebook.
Her purple shoe flopped loosely against her heel, dangling onto her forefoot.
Her purple hair shone in the  daylight pouring through the window.
After class my brain fought with itself, debating on speaking with the purple angel.
As she arose with her packed purple pouch, I uttered a phrase.
“Your hair looks lovely today.”
I looked away, embarrassed with my not so subtle compliment.
She giggled, brushing a strand of hair from her eyesight.
“Thank you, I like yours too.”
She wandered out of class with the other students.
Next time I will finally raise up my courage.
For the purple girl.

the scent of you still clings to my sheets
and feelings confuse me
my skype history is a long list of confessions but my biggest secrets are still buried within me
i feel sick
i wish i could purge on self-hatred
i'll dig out these secrets for the sake of this poem, or ramble, or whatever it is
core myself on sharp shards of broken hearts - i have plenty to choose from
more fuel to the fire, my ever-burning hatred for myself
when will it consume me?
i feel sick

confession no.1
i just ate all of the chocolate in the fridge so it wouldn't have to stare me in the face any longer
swallowed it down like its sweetness didn't make me feel bitter
and followed it with a bowl of cereal as a last hoorah for my oncoming diet

confession no.2
i'm **** at this poetry thing
or at least that's how i feel

i can't even be good at something i love
how could anyone expect me to be good at loving?

confession no.3
right now, i feel nothing but resentment and hatred for my mother
her snide comment about my commitment to my therapy made me want to break her neck

confession no.4
i'm incredibly blunt, which is probably why i **** at poetry
i also haven't gotten my anger issues in check
today, on the bus, i imagined shooting this racist woman's head repeatedly and i was angry that i couldn't make her bleed

confession no.5
it's raining outside and i don't feel any calmer
perhaps it's just too mild for me when i feel this stormy
biting back torrential tears like not crying will somehow make me a stronger hurricane
but
i'm still not good enough to blow anybody away

confession no.6
i feel sick in every sense of the word
i kind of want to die

An old friend left town today
The conveyance was his favorite handgun
After departing he placed the gun next to his body
On the other side of his body was an empty whiskey bottle
The coroners report said, “Cause of Death – Desire to visit other planes of existence”

The local paper said he was a strange genius tangled up in complicated metaphor
The underground papers all said he found a ticket and decided to use it
I figure he decided he had told everyone here about his sad loneliness and
Thought new ears might be needed to bring fruit to his suffering
Even if he didn’t know what the ears would look like

My friend left behind millions of words written over decades in an attempt
To explain his sudden departure
I found it odd that in the opening word of his first poem I saw the answer
That opening word was “She”…
What followed was a lifetime of goodbyes written and published with love

You don’t think the day you are going to get diagnosed with cancer is going to be a beautiful one. One that makes you want to sprint across the sand and dive under crystal water. You think maybe, as the sun envelopes your room, that you don’t have to go to the hospital today, everything’s perfect. That is until you stand up and nausea forces you to the floor and soon you are folded up into a car and shipped off to a giant white building with white doctors and white walls and white floors and white instruments. You don’t think you can be diagnosed with cancer, not today.

I stood and watched the beating,
My heart was all I heard,
I stood and watched the beating
I'm next is what I feared,

My brother only three years old,
Was trying not to scream,
I reached my hand to touch his face,
Was this just a dream,

His loving eyes of innocence,
Became empty and so still,
My father shouted angrily,
As I lay down next to him,

I shook his shoulder gently,
I wiped away his tears,
Please my little brother,
Let me take your fears,

Wake up, wake up, it's time to play,
We can go outside,
We can climb our tree of dreams,
Together we can hide,

My father walked away in time,
My mother followed him,
But no one helped this little one,
I cried from deep within,

I tried to lift his little form,
To carry him to bed,
As I had tried many times,
But blood poured from his head,

Wake up, wake up, it's time to play,
We can go outside,
We can climb our tree of dreams,
Together we can hide,

But he would not wake up to play,
I shook him more and more,
I kissed his rosie cheeks of red,
Then came a knock on the door,

It was some police and other men,
They ran and got my dad,
They took my brother in a yellow car,
They called my mother bad,

They chained their hands and shouted loud,
I just sat alone,
I wandered what was happening,
In this house, my home,

A lady came and took my hand,
She led me through the door,
I looked at our tree of dreams,
But it wasn't there no more,

Ten years passed in different homes,
A life that's like no other,
And all this time I was alone,
And thinking of my brother,

Today I found our tree of dreams,
And sitting way up high,
Is my brother, my sweet sweet brother,
I began to cry,

I climbed the tree and held him tight,
He was happy and had no pain,
His eyes where full of life once more,
We where together again.

Potion of love I make today,
from deep inside my heart.
It does radiate outwards,
to move within a spark.

It is da-lish so take a taste,
and you will be in awe.
Drink it up and feel blessings,
then you’ll fly high to soar.

You will be anointed strong,
with light and trust to be.
Grounded inside special gifts,
to wander oh so free.

Maybe inside gifts you’ll write.
Maybe you will speak.
People will come gather near,
to bow and kiss your feet.

Possibly you’ll learn yourself.
and find out who you are.
You have special gifts within,
so drink cause your a star.

StarBG © 2017