we built a teepee in the woods out back,
hoping for a fortress where we could avoid
my parents' calls for us to come inside
and out of the pitch black of a tangled forest.

it wasn’t perfect – there was no hide
with which to cover it, decorated with
red and blue creatures of the earth, dancing
upon geometric patterns.

some of the branches we used to craft this teepee
stuck out, thin, pliable fingers
with budding leaves instead of nails, gently swaying
and conducting some silent melody in the breeze.

these branches were leaned in a circle, supporting each other
with circles of young, green sinew layered beneath their bark.
we bound them together at their peak, unwinding a ball of string
that would fray and disintegrate with every rainstorm.

we failed, also, to consider our chosen place for this Indian home.
rather than soft grass or spongy moss, we sat
uncomfortably and shifting, on layers of dirt
and dead, dry leaves, decaying beneath us
as we stared into a leafy ceiling,
framed and outlined by the gold sunlight,
before the fiery sky turned to purple and red, and
mosquitoes bit at our ankles, driving us from the forest
and into my home.

there we lay, staring up at glow-in-the-dark stickers
mimicking Orion and Ursa, Libra and Gemini,
on my plain and darkened ceiling.

Prince Simon, Prince Jason and Princess Sophie lived a regal life.

Slaying dragons and battling witches by day, monsters and beasts by night.

Each day brought adventures new, trips on boats and to the zoo.

One particular day when feeling bored, Prince Simon decided to explore.

Down to the basement, he slowly sneaked, quietly to take a peek.  New adventures he did seek.

A rickety old wardrobe he did find and suddenly an adventure sprang to mind.

Prince Simon shouted excitedly, "come quickly Prince Jason, Princess Sophie the Wardrobe holds an adventure new, one for me and why don't you join me too?"

The three children didn't hesitate into the Wardrobe they climbed, "where are we going today? do you know the way? Prince Jason chimed.

"The way is West" Prince Simon declared "to the Wild Wild West in the days that were best, in the morning I have a history test."

Quickly buckle up, hold tight, the wardrobe will soon be taking flight.

No sooner had they entered the wardrobe and buckled up, then the wardrobe began to rock and shake, the wardrobe began to lift and quake.

The rocket started rising higher and higher, faster and faster , picking up speed and going faster and faster.

Higher and higher, faster and faster they rose into the sky.

Higher and higher, faster and faster until they were 30,000 feet high and heading in the direction of the Wild Wild West.  
All three children were delighted, the rocket ship made them so excited.

Prince Jason and Princess Sophie said, " what do we need to wear on this adventure?"

Prince Simon said "cowboy hat, jeans, boots, and vest, that's all that's required for the wild wild west"

"mmm said Princess Sophie what about cowgirls or squaws that is what an Indian Girl is called"

"Well," said Prince Jason "their very similar, a cowhide dress, boots and Stetson hat for cowgirl, a cowhide dress, boots and feather headdress for the Squaw, let's look around and explore what the wardrobe has hidden for us all"

The children started looking and everything they required they did find Prince Simon and Prince Jason looked very fine as Cowboys with their hats, jeans, boots and vest they would fit right in, in the Wild Wild West.

Princess Sophie decided to dress as a Squaw and donned Cowhide dress, boots and feather headdress turned to her brothers to see if she passed the test.

"Perfect" Prince Simon and Prince Jason declared "come join us  now," they both said," it won't be long" Prince Simon stated "until we land back in time of the 1870's in Deadwood Gulch, USA, the Sheriff has a campaign to rid the county of its bad name "

Prince Jason and Princess Sophie were so excited they began to laugh and squeak, Princess Sophie did declare that "her knees were feeling weak"

10 minutes later the rocket had slowed down and was starting its' descent, Princess Sophie got so excited as she spied a teepee tent.

"Look" Princess Sophie shouted "a reservation down below, where Indians are settled and warm fires are all aglow"  

"Can we please stop and speak, I would like to ride a horse and a canoe, I have read stories and I know that's what they do, in the land of the Sioux!"

Slowly the rocket did descend, landing near the reservation, all three children opened the door, their eyes grew wider at what they saw.

5,000 Indians greeted the visitors with big smiles, and their leader, name of Crazy Horse asked them to join them for a while.
“Stay a while,” Crazy Horse said we’ll make some food, teach you to ride a horse ******* and a canoe, teach you the ways of the Sioux.

Princess Sophie replied, “we can’t wait” looking at the leader’s headdress Princess Sophie sighed “how come your headdress is as tall as it is wide?”

Crazy Horse smiled and sweetly said “I am a leader of these people and I do not hide; my headdress makes me stand out from others at my side”

Crazy Horse led the children to the teepee tent and signalled them to sit on the floor in front, cross-legged.

“We hunt daily for fish and meat, the food you are going to be given is precious and prepared with care, please do not wait, dig in, enjoy, there is enough to share”

Prince Simon, Prince Jason and Princess Sophie dived in enthusiastically, tasting everything, they could, from rice and beans, fish and meat, everything was so tasty and cooked in a *** hung over the wood.

“when you have finished “Crazy Horse declared we have horses ready for you to ride, don’t worry someone will walk with you at your side”

The children excitedly climbed upon their horses, Lakota for Prince Simon, Kamanchee for Prince Jason and Quil for Princess Sophie, they each clicked their heels and off the horses trot.

Just as Crazy Horse promised, each of the children had an Indian by their side, walking and talking about the best way to ride.

After an hour the children did decide that as much as they enjoyed it they had to end the ride.

Prince Simon said to Crazy Horse “thank you for your hospitality but we really must leave right now, we are meeting the Sheriff man of Deadwood Gulch” he said with a bow.

Crazy Horse bid them adieu and said, “say Hi to Wild Bill for me, last time I saw him he was wagon master”

The three children said their goodbyes and walked along the White River to their destination town, Deadwood Gulch.

Suddenly wooden huts appeared and horses pulling carriages, people and cargo shared the inside and Wells Fargo in writing on the outside.

Prince Simon, Prince Jason, and Princess Sophie looked around the town, found a sign that said Sheriff’s Office, rang the bell and entered.

Wild Bill Hickock with his long hair and Stetson hat, looked just as the children remembered from their history class.

“Hi,” said Wild Bill as he rose from his seat, stretched his hand out to greet the three children.

You must be Prince Simon, Prince Jason and Princess Sophie come to learn the ways of the Wild West before your history test.

“Yes” said Prince Simon, wildly shaking Wild Bills hand “we are delighted to meet you and lend a helping hand”

Wild Bill said, “follow me, I am about to take a walk, meet the local folk and welcome visitors to the town, would you like to tag along with me as I walk around?”

The three children agreed excitedly and followed behind, “First stop” said Wild Bill is the Post Office look for the Yellow sign”
“I see it,” said Princess Sophie as she ran across the street “let’s all go inside and meet the postmistress, make sure she’s got what she needs, if she requires any stationary we may have to place an order to arrive with speed”

“Next stop,” said Wild Bill “is the Blacksmiths down the road, if you are lucky he will show you how a horse is shoed”
The children watched quietly as the Blacksmith plied his trade, treating all of the horses to pairs of shoes fit for a parade.

“Last,” said Wild Bill “off to a rodeo we go, you will see cowboys riding their horses and using their lassoes and if your very lucky they will let you try it too”

Prince Simon, Prince Jason, and Princess Sophie were so excited they hardly said a word, watching the rodeo in silence, watching every move.
Finally, Wild Bill shouted from the side, “hands up who is keen to have a ride around the ranch? Try their hand with a lasso and maybe get some lunch.

The children’s hands shot up in the air and all three children gave a very loud cheer, Wild Bill laughed and replied, “Follow me and I will hook you up with three horses for a ride”

For the second time that day the children rode horses, this time in a circle around the corral, keeping time Wild Bill always by their side, they loved the ride.

Last but least Wild Bill put on a feast of a show with rope in his hand he threw the lasso over some cans set up on a fence, pulled the rope tight and without a second glance, felled the tins to the floor, the children let out an appreciative roar.

“That is the end of your day” Wild Bill did say “I am sorry to see you go but you must run along home, you’ve been gone a long time and your mummy will be worried”

The children shook Wild Bill's hand and thanked him for his time, sadly the day had ended and they climbed back in the wardrobe, set the destination to their home a million miles below.

As they approached their home, the roof started to open wide and the rocket began to slow, the ride was nearly over and they did not have far to go.

Very soon the wardrobe landed safely on the floor, the children were exhausted and ran to open the door, out they fell full of excitement and looking for their mummy, headed straight to the kitchen.

Mummy looked at all three children and declared “there you are, I was searching for Prince Simon as he has a history test in the morning on the Wild Wild West and I was going to help him revise for it.

The children laughed and cried, Princess Sophie, sighed, “no need mummy” they all declared “we know all about it, we’ve all been there”

Prince Simon said “Can we just have some tea and go straight to bed, I promise I have all the knowledge of the Wild Wild West clearly in my head, at least enough to pass the test.”

Of course said Mummy wash your hands, tea is ready.

From the parking lot
by the park
you walk a little bit down
the road and there's an opening
in the woods and hidden there
is a teepee.

It's more of a bunch of sticks
arranged to look like a teepee
than an actual teepee
but it still offers a little shelter
from the weight of the world
when you're hanging out in
there with a bunch of your
misfit friends
and talking about the future
as the cacophony of all the
animals and bugs in the trees
wells up like the 1812 Overture
at sundown,
the fading orange light
challenged by the glow of your faces.

I haven't been there
in years,
but have directed many
of my younger acquaintances there
to offer a little bit of solace
that can't be expressed
in any way other than experience.

COOL TENTS WITH HOT FOOD
From the 10th diary entry of Stewy Lemmon's childhood adventures.

Finally, the day Smoochy and I had been waiting for had arrived. It was Saturday the 7th of March. The day we were heading off to the, 89th Boy Scouts & Girl Guides, combined World Jamboree. The jamboree was held this year in the Nevada desert in Las Vegas, USA.

My dad Archie, was the local scout leader for the Shimmerleedimmerlee 1st scout group and my mum Flo, was second in charge of the Barefeet Mountain 3rd Girl Guide group. Mum's friend was the Barefeet girl guides leader and she was named, Miss Alice Springs. Dad was making the trip with other local scout leaders and 11 of us boys. Mum and Miss Alice Springs were taking 11 girls from the local Barefeet Mountain girl guide group, including my two much older identical twin sisters, Emma and Jemma. Also coming along was my much younger brother, Lemmy and of course my grouse pet mouse, Smoochy.

Dad has been in the local boy scout group since he was very young and his father, John Lemmon, my grandfather, was also in the same scout group when it first began, all of those years ago.

There were boy scout and girl guide groups from all over the world attending the big camping and adventure event. People from far away places like Norway, France, Egypt, Australia, Holland, England, Brazil, Thailand, Hong Kong, Italy and of course the host nation, the United States of America.

Every group, brought with them their home nations own colourful flags and individually designed tents, based on their countries culture or famous landmarks. It was like having all of the countries of the world, all in the one place at a time.

The boy scout and girl guide group from Thailand had a tent that looked like a Buddhist Temple and also had an outdoor kitchen where they would make, such great tasting, but ever so hot and spicy, food from.

The Egyptian guys and girls had a massive high tent, that resembled the world famous giant Pyramid of Giza. It must of taken them ages to make the angles so perfectly straight and with extreme precision.

Holland's tent was a large and fully operational, colourful windmill. It, even had it's very own water tank. The windmill tent was painted with colours and designs that even impressed my very artistic dad.

He said, 'He might even have to redecorate his unusually built, outrageously painted, outback, backyard shed and use some of the bright paint colours and fancy designs the boys and girls had done'.

The next tent was very big and long from the boy scout and girl guide groups of, Australia. It had been designed to look like the, Sydney harbour bridge. But it didn't have a roof to protect them from the weather, while they slept shoulder to shoulder, across the wooden bridge road. But, like most Aussies with relaxed and casual attitudes they said, 'She'll be right mate, Rain, Hail or Shine'.

The guys and gals from Italy, had a tent that was leaning over to the right, just like the, famous Leaning Tower of Pisa. They assured us all that it wouldn't fall over. 'Trust us, they said'.

Hong Kong had a very long tent that was based on the colourful, cultural inspired dragon. It had a lot of tent pegs on either side, to keep it's ever winding position in place. It was the most colourful and coolest tent of all. But at the same time, the most scariest tent of them all.

England's tent was based on the very historic, Tower of London. It even had two very serious looking guards on patrol out front, made out of paper mâché.

Norway's tent was in the shape of, a Vikings fighting helmet. It had, two large horns coming out from the left and right hand sides. It looked like a raging bull, in a bizarre sort of way.

Brazil came up with a giant yellow and green football, based on their national sport and colours of the country, for its design. All of us just hoped, 'It didn't get a sudden hole in it and start to knock over all of our tents, just like a giant pinball game'.

France went for a super, duper structure, that was wide at the bottom and became thinner towards the top. It was in the shape of the Eiffel Tower, of course. It was the tallest tent at the jamboree camping grounds and provided the best views from atop.

While the host nation the USA decided to honour the, Native American Indians. They, had a large tent resembling an original and colourful Indian Teepee, with a hole at the top. The scouts and girl guides from, the USA, sent out messages to everyone nearby, using the old, but still very effective, smoke signals way of communication. They said, 'Who needs the Internet, Facebook and Twitter, when you can send messages and cook a meal on a fire at the same time'?

After looking at all of the great tents made by all of the participating nations, we sat down to eat. Everybody had made a favourite dish from their home country. All the girl guides from Australia made the famous and delicious dessert cake called, Pavlova. But, it wasn't any ordinary Pavlova, for it was in the shape of the very large outback rock named Uluru. Which, by the way, is located in the middle of Australia, near a place called Alice Springs.

So my mum's friend has a very famous name indeed. The girl guides from Australia named this creation, 'The Alice Springs Rock'.

The Egyptians had made a dessert out of shortbread, that took them hours to make. Each piece of shortbread had to be skilfully cut, with exact precision or the creation just wouldn't stay in place. It was named, 'Pastry Plate of Pharaoh's Perfect Pyramid'.

The Italian Boy Scouts, prepared a series of huge leaning pizzas stacked on top of each other, on very acute angles, just like their tent. They named their creation, 'The Leaning Tower of Pizza'.

The host nation of the USA, made some yummy hotdogs with tomato ketchup, mustard and cheese. They made the hotdogs, pop up from each end of the roll and placed wooden sticks on either side to look like American Native Indians were rowing their canoes.

Norway had created a tasty snack made with salmon and biscuits which looked like little boats flowing down the Fjords. Also the impression of large rocks in the water that were in fact meatballs for all.

Thailand had served up several spicy dishes, including the famous Pad Thai dish with chicken and the hot soup named Hot and Sour with Prawns in Thai you pronounce it as Tom Yung Goong. It was so yummy in the tummy the dishes from Thailand.

In the Brazil kitchen they made us their nations famous Churrasco or BBQ. It uses a variety of meats like pork, beef and chicken which was cooked on large metal skewers stuck into the ground and roasted with the embers of the charcoal.

France baked up some crescent shaped flaky pastry named the Croissant. They added some great tasting almonds to a few, while some others had dried fruits such as sultanas, raisins and even apples.

Holland had an assortment of plates consisting of Gouda and Edam cheeses with mayonnaise and mustards and other plates had a rich variety of fruits, freshly cut meats and nuts placed upon them.

Hong Kong had very traditional Chinese meals prepared for all to enjoy. They had everything from fried rice, to Chinese noodles to my dads all time favourite Peking Duck, so when he saw the duck he said he was in luck. Also they had a plate full of Dim Sums and a Hong Kong favourite snack called egg tarts and another of my dads favourite drinks named milk tea.

Finally England had whipped up my Friday night special, which is Fish n Chips with tomato sauce. It was so good that a lot of the other nations said they would make it for their families, once they got home.

In the morning we had such great fun and adventure while trying every nations favourite sport or recreation. We started by having team races on the river in Native American Indian canoes, Norwegian Viking ships, Italian Gondolas, Egyptian river boats and Chinese dragon boat races in the nearby river. The winning order was Hong Kong 1st, Italy came in 2nd and third of all was Egypt.

We even had competitions to see who could do the best smoke signals and we even had fun rope climbing events to the top of the Eiffel Tower, the Leaning tower of Pisa, and walking and climbing events up the Pyramid of Giza and the Sydney Harbour Bridge tents.

Then some countries had a football game after lunch with teams from Brazil, England, Italy and France playing for the Boy Scouts and Girl Guides World Cup golden trophy. Brazil beat England in the final 3-1, to hold up the golden cup.

Some other nations had bike riding races, which Holland won with ease. Australia did really well in the boxing competition. Everybody laughed when Smoochy came out 1st, wearing a pair of boxing gloves, before they brought out a plastic blow up of their mascot wearing gloves "Big Red" the boxing kangaroo which was placed near the ring for good luck.

Thailand dominated the Judo and the USA couldn't be stopped in the 100m sprints and also the mixed basketball matches. So overall, everyone had such a great time and we all loved the tents, food and different sports to watch and perform in, from all of the world.

The week went so fast and it was sad to say goodbye to all of our new friends from all over the world, but we promised that we would stay in touch either by using smoke signals or the new generations way, which is either by Facebook or Twitter.

teepee dwellers gather rounddancing flames, natures soundhappy hippies, beads and banglesvegan food but leather sandals save the earth, soap-dodgers pleadflower power, worship weedhate pollution, love the treeslove and peace, pure and free dreadlock strands, ***** handssymbolic signs from aeresol cansacrylic colours produced by manthe hairy eco paints his van van thats spews black filthy smokebalding tyres, handbrake brokesigns of peace and global gleeno wipers, tax, or m.o.t workin hippy knows the scoresummer paid by winters choremother earth their passion causeand some drive home in four by fours

Fear of living on
Natives getting restless now
Mutiny in the air
Got some death to do.
Mirror stares back hard
**** is such a friendly word
Seems the only way
For reaching out now

i cannot face a day without acknowledging a loss.
i cannot fathom such a wilderness grew so close to my place,
my society-free, impositionless place
a tepid forest inhabited
by the requiems of the agnostically murdered
and the cogged wheels of the deceased's clocks.
sometimes they stick and the clockmaster unsticks them,
but they stop up again ever so quickly.
there is nobody who has the time or effort to continually watch the clocks.
and they return to ticking an eldritch song
which may cause pain.
it has not abolished mine, nor shall forth be disseminated to do so.
i am an ascetic mastermind, abiding in my messy pool
of thought, without my womb, without my brood, without my broom
to tidy the mishmash of unruly cobwebs and such.
the fumes cause me to wonder “where is my world,
which i’ve fondled so dearly?”
i detox and recycle memories, it’s to no worth of you
a venomous whisper on a silver lining of a dream tells you everything:
a fanatic’s agenda degrading urbane,
a plummeting depth to deep impact,
i drift away on a molten lava lilypad, and fantasize that...
i am god
but i haven’t found time to juggle your sect
reissuing lessons to mind the sheriff
and i cannot bear to lead me, to my own cultural death.
i cannot receive your moral disease, a signal on my knees
con e preghiere sbiancante. can’t you understand it?
my life is spent with hope placed
on each pair of snake eyes i roll
chance is the meter for everything.
dare i dare go back to my fantasizing,
i am god
ashamed by the lack of hope, and regret
disgraced by the hate and intolerance of man
and i see now their perfect world, is everything i detest.
and the tears produced
form new embryos of emotions
crystalline structures of psychological proportions
which develop into mature,
sentient, and emotion-proof organisms.
which become i.
and i respond vehemently yet come to my senses in a diplomatic tone,
because i am a diplomat.
and i have learned to nail my destiny to an altar each night,
an altar which can sacrifice my pensive motives
and my self-incriminating philosophy
that i should be able to write my destiny, and not
have it planned and read aloud,
read out loud, out in the air, outside.
i try myself.
i tempt myself.
and i return to supplicated suffering about my own mortality
and the atoms i will never see
and the universe i will never span
and the people i will never meet
and the times i will never live.
what if i rivered thirty silver-coins:
◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌
◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌
◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌
what if i
didn’t
?
i might be ****** for this: but i’ll still set fire to the catacombs.
i might be scourged for this: but i’ll still hold on,
hoping there’s skin on my bones.
ecclesia, – a common, a sanctuary, a vanguard from the darkness in the world.
i know what i should do but never ever get it done;
i know what i have been and what i will become.
not defined by a dimension nor reputed by a benchmark
but shaded by the passion and dissuaded by the lashes.
i’ll do anything you want me to,
if you **** the self-inflicted psalms i plead!
the ulcer grows
that sweet cologne
i ***** it into the unknown.
i won’t tax your soul, i won’t stick a price to it:
coins ◌◌◌◌◌ won’t fill the hole -in a business deal (assets corrode)
i won’t tax your soul (i won’t buy it with blood money ◌◌◌◌◌, no)
it’s yours alone (but in business deals,
deficit is prone)
and there’s an aspect {a static} of forever and the inescapable gap
between the conscious
and the desired.
i sit here, ever so comfy and lustrous,
and habitually wait the day
they merge.
my invitations stand clear.
if you cannot come, i’ll wait for you. hidden
in the grillework of my past. but if you cannot come,
i’ll be waiting. hidden in the warmth of our teepee haus,
i’ll wait for you.

if X Marx the spot then why Kant i Locke it up?
*could living hand-to-mouth so long make me so Jung?

When we were eighteen the valley of the plums, prunes and apricots
kept us beaming. I had come from the north, from the nuclear
town on the Columbia River.

I never yearn for the desert sand in the wind, or the feeling
that above and beyond the first mountain men were doing things
not meant for the rest of the world to view, except that one of
those men was my father.

The company moved us to the new place, the California farm
town. Here the soil, worked hard by orchardists,
yielded a sweet aroma that persuaded us to be fond of the earth.

We would go to school and work the summer jobs, slicing cots
and stuffing fruit in cans all night, and then I would fall in love.
That is where the “we” enters.

I drove an old English sports car with a wooden frame and
wire-spoked wheels, a windshield that would drop down for
a full dose of the highway wind.

Dwellers arrived here quickly from afar. Some said it
was for the weather. Never very hot or cold, an incubational
paradise for the thousands of acres of fruit teees.

We had to stand back from the evening bonfires, and were sorrowful,
watching the fruit trees chopped, piled and torched.
This progress made me think of the American Indians.
I had seen them netting salmon on the Columbia River at Celilo Falls before the dams,
the gray concrete walls that turn gravity into a light bulb.
(I would like to flip a switch and turn on the river).

We asked ourselves what would be the limits of this 1960s
unbridled growth. Some were talking of expanding
to the moon, while we were considering holing up
in a mountain retreat.

The valley of the fruit became unrecognizable. Next
in my neighborhood a multi-story building slammed into the sky.
If even one could be built here, why not
one more Hong Kong?

We drove to the mountains in the spring when the western
slopes filled with wild flowers, and flew kites and laughed into the
face of the oncoming wind, and kissed. Love might
conquer all.

The ocean side of the range is where we knew we wanted to be.
Riding waves and kicking around in the kelp beds at
Pleasure Point. Less room for a building boom, unless steel platforms were
erected over the waves. Who knows that such an idea is even
now on the drawing boards.

We married and made the move and remain there still. A tiny house
built during one of the greater wars of the last century by
Hawaiian flower farmers, who knew nothing about how to
build a sturdy house, and had no blossom money for their dreams.

My dream is awake there though, the little house and the tiny rooms
that only want to hear the birds of the forest come near.
Daffodils and roses, enormous zucchinis, and an old
pear tree that I write poems about in the spring, and
two girls who love the ocean.

That’s about it. My whole autobiography composed this bright
sunny morning in the hills above San Luis Reservoir in
the central valley, where I come from time to time to write
and ponder the tall grass.

My parents are close by in the national veteran’s cemetery,
where I put them a few sad years ago.

I see some of the details are missing. It’s easy to fill
in the missing information–the story most of us might tell.
We’ve wept over the loss of farms, flowing rivers,
and fought the war against the war, and wondered
why we cannot just live in a teepee at the base of Yosemite Falls.

In the background, a steady trickle of death, disease, work.
I am guilty of confusing work with death and disease, but that’s
just my own hard-earned opinion.

There have been birthday cakes and communions, bicycle rides
and Monterey fish eating, candles burning in winter storms,
old tool sheds full of her paintings, a stack of notebooks with
my scribbling.

The valley of the fruit continues stacking buildings.
The redwoods here continue growing.

We're illegal, impervious aliens under
the teepee; we're imposters,
orphans huddled by the fire
and waiting for the blaze.
We're Jesus and Mary, waiting to marry
but not quite yet - no, never
quite yet. You and I, we're
suicide; ticking time bombs with our
shell-shocked mouths still intact; metal hearts
camouflaged by our
overgrown  and tangled minds.
We vow to never say never,
but I know you know those words
lie so heavy on us

When I peer into the mirror
(Clean clear glass on silver
A porthole into backwards-land)
I see a certain spice in our swirling eyes
Absent in those of the lonely

Cloves and cinnamon and vanilla
It shrouds us in its heavy fog
(We don't mind, we see not much
Past each others' eyes)

In the mirror, our arms are tangled
In a comforting, swaddling mess
Our heads are leaned together (a teepee)
And our smiles stretch around the world

But the mirror shows us backwards.
(Reverse, opposite, inside out, and outside in)
And I know that really, you lean away from me and frown.

july 16 2011
the air stuck to my skin,
clinging for life,
grasping for adhesion.
the cool, night air making minuscule mountains rise all across my arms.
we were far from alone,
yet all i could possibly be aware of was you.
feeling my head roll back onto the tweed, orange sofa, i looked up through the roof windows of the teepee.
i began to count and trace the stars,
only to steady my rapid heartbeat and abrupt breathing.
the breeze picks up and suddenly penetrates deep into my core,
sending out waves of shudders throughout my entire body.
shaking like a dandelion in a windstorm, you invite me closer and closer,
you can see the look of hesitation in my eye,
you understand it;
you feel it too.
ignoring your instincts, you envelop my frigid torso in your warm, big arms.
finally settling in, the others begin to disperse,
one by one,
until only we remained.
the beauty of this mid-july night was apparent,
and, all tucked away,
we laid there for hours
listening
intently
to the bullfrogs, to the crickets,
to the sound of the waves from the small lake kissing the shore, to the cool breeze mingling with the sweet warm summer air.
the morning crept along and we pulled each other
in and out
of the haze we created.
in the morning, it was cold again,
but i got only your jacket and a hushed
"don't tell".

It could have been a pleasant Monday.
We sat outdoors and ate our sandwiches.
It was crisp October, and we were on a dig.
Earlier, we had used the transit to measure
teepee rings from the nomad Cree tribe
that once lived and loved here.
You'd found the marker stones.
I'd found a stone tool.

But now we sit having lunch in the tepid sun.
I looked at you and saw a young man
who swaggered with false confidence.
You wore an army jacket,though we were just 16.
Your hair was red, and a little curly.
Your eyes melted me, -robin's egg blue.
I looked at your hands still holding the paper
and I saw between the freckles on your wrist
a blue vein.

Without ability to stop myself I touched you there.
And then my mind whirled.
For the first time-
suddenly, I was in your blood,
your heart, your mind!
You were just as jolted as I was,
and we have never been the same.

40 years later. We write on your birthday.
You ask about my mother.
Do you ever say my name?

I only gave it to you
    so one day
I could take it back.
    The proverbial Indian
giver, I send out smoke signals,
    I await in my teepee
poetry coming back.
    Smoke signals from you.

Yep what's in a name?
Mine is Joseph Francis Cole
Joseph for my father
Francis for his brother
Cole hahaha the surname of mothers first husband
Why? Cos I was born out of wedlock
Do I care no?
I heard a story once that when an American Indian child was born
The father would look out of the teepee and name the child
for the first thing he saw
Who the **** was stupid enough to name his son
White Dog ******* Under The Moon

I wasn't expecting
your B or your C game,
certainly not your J or K

or any other letters
in the alphabet, really,

except that one at the beginning:
looks like a pyramid with a perch,
isosceles triangle with bottom arisen,
traffic cone alerting to awesome ahead,
space shuttle tip to aerospace action,
an upside down V with a chin rest,
upward-pointing pencil tip,
2D teepee with a loft...

or your best
approximation.

The old one,the wise man, a shaman
defies the tongue that speaks and ushers me
into a tent, a teepee
'See,
when the blue river of pain has crossed over the plain and we lie in the dust like all buffalo must,
it will end', he said,
let us tend to the dead,willing the spirit to fly,the old eyes saw it all and what was denied me before came quite clearly now,
how the wind would shift mountains and the eagles would cry as the people of peoples would die and yet live,be taken but give,
on the hill in the sun stands the shaman,the old one,the wise man and I am in mourning.

Chapter 20: The Formality Of Acceptance

As he entered the village, it was not what he expected ...

“The women are in the process of building a great fire. Before you can be asked to sacrifice on behalf of The People, you have to be honored and formally welcomed into Piegan society,” said Jimmy.

Cutty wasn’t sure what that meant, but he was sure of one thing—there was no mistaking honor when it rose up to greet you. “These people may be down on their luck, but their fundamental spirit is intact.” He repeated this sentiment to Jimmy. “Only because you returned tonight, Major.”

Only Because You Returned!

Cutty and Jimmy had walked through the trees with the big white horse at Cutty’s side. Behind the horse had walked the rest of the Piegan Tribe: First Stoneheart with the Council of Elders, then the Warrior Societies, then the Hunters, and finally the Women and Children.

Everyone From The Tribe Had Come Out To Greet Him

The big horse had neither bridle nor rein but seemed to know exactly what was happening and where they were going. That was good, because Cutty hadn’t been sure. In times like these he had learned that the most successful route was the one of least resistance.

He had slowly walked beside the large stallion by the light of the three-quarter moon—with the torchbearers all behind him. The few times he had slowed down to make sure they were still on the trail the horse had lowered his head on Cutty’s right shoulder and brushed his cheek.

“It’s almost as if he understands why I’m not riding him,” Cutty had thought to himself.

The big white stallion was reminiscent of the one The Emperor had ridden during ceremonial parades in front of the Imperial Palace in Tokyo. He could now hear the women chanting behind him, and their voices were raised in what sounded like somber celebration.

The path opened up into a wide broad area with burning campfires and clapboard shacks extending as far as the eye could see. “So, this is what a modern-day Indian Camp looks like,” Cutty thought out loud.

Jimmy could tell that Cutty was confused as he said: “Only the elders and medicine workers live in teepees, Major. The rest of the tribe lives in wooden shacks that are both cold in the winter and hot in the summer. Many of the People have lost their way and for that reason the Siksika have been able to prey on us so.”

The Piegan Were Caught In A Time Warp Between The Old And The New

The next voice he heard was that of Chief Stoneheart coming up on the left side of his horse from behind. “Ichiban, would you please mount the white horse as we approach the fire? It would mean so much to the People.”

Cutty’s initial feeling was one of embarrassment.

His mind flashed back to the story of Jesus triumphantly entering Jerusalem on the back of a donkey as people waved palm leaves at him in celebration. His self-consciousness was again tempered by the importance of observing local customs. He had learned this on several continents, and it had served him well.

After Stoneheart had passed by—and was now in front of him—Cutty spun 180 degrees throwing his right leg high into the air and over the back of the big horse. Like all good horses, this one immediately knew that he was now in the hands of an experienced rider. Cutty sat motionless on the horse’s back as it slowly made its way toward the flames.

Wooden shacks had been built in a circle around a large stone-rimmed fire pit. It reminded Cutty, in a strange way, of the squares or pracas he had seen in Portugal. Three women were standing inside the large pit and had lighted a fire. The flames danced in the moonlight as Cutty wondered what was coming next.

Then Instinct Overtook Intellect

Without fully understanding why, Cutty reared the stallion up on its two hind legs. He kept the horse in this position for what seemed like forever, before patting it on its right wither and dropping it down on all fours. It was then that he charged.

Cutty charged up the right side of the fire pit at a full gallop. He rode completely around until he was back where he started from—but he did not stop. He drove the horse even faster around the fire, two more times, before rearing him up again in front of Chief Stoneheart and the Council of Elders. The entire tribe was blinded by the aura of Ichiban. Cutty whispered something into the horse’s ear before dismounting in one fluid movement.

“So, you speak to horses too, Ichiban,” said Stoneheart, as he touched the stallion’s mane. “You two seem to know each other well. Maybe from a previous life?” Stoneheart said these words with the first smile Cutty had seen from him since leaving the train station in Missoula.

“There is nothing like a good horse,” Cutty said back to the Chief, as Stoneheart escorted him to a place of honor.

Cutty was being led to the southern end of the fire pit, when Stoneheart asked him to turn around. The women had all stopped chanting, and in a louder voice than all of the women combined—Stoneheart began. As he chanted, he raised both arms to the sky and rotated slowly.

Cutty Was Discovering Just How Important The ‘Circle’ Was To Native Americans

Stoneheart rotated in two complete circles—first to his right and then to his left—before stopping where he had started directly in front of Cutty. This reminded Cutty of the many Katas he had practiced—always finishing in the same spot he had started from.  Stoneheart never lowered his head as his eyes had been fixed on the night sky.

“That sky is almost as impressive as the one over the Himalayas,” Cutty thought.

Stoneheart ended his chanting and turned to face The People. His head was now down as he started a slow and rhythmic dance around the fire.



Chapter 21: The Dance

One by one, they fell in behind Stoneheart dancing their way around the fire. Each tribal member had their own personal interpretation of the drumbeat as they danced through the mixture of moon glow and firelight.

Jimmy had now walked up to Cutty and was standing beside him.

“This is all in your honor, Major. The People can feel the magic of this night, and to them the magic is only real when it is felt in the heart. Stories, and the retelling of legends, don’t often create what they are feeling at this moment. After they have completely circled the fire, they will one by one take a seated position around the circular stones.

When the last dancer is seated, Chief Stoneheart will stand again and raise his arms to the sky. He will then chant a Blackfoot Piegan poem of thankfulness and lower his arms in your direction.

“That will be your invitation to dance, Major. I know this might make you uncomfortable, but it is a great honor to be asked to dance in front of the entire tribe. It will bring untold meaning to everyone. It won’t matter how you dance as long as The People can feel the spirit of your movement.”

When the last dancer was seated, Stoneheart rose with his arms reaching for the sky. It reminded Cutty of when he stood in front of Captain Nagata while first being introduced aboard the great Japanese warship—the Kagoshima Sun.

Eternal Moments Are Never Measured In Blocks Of Time

Chief Stoneheart dropped both of his arms with palms up in Cutty’s direction. He then spread them widely in a gesture of welcome.

Cutty had never really danced and was known as a notoriously bad dance partner both by Adrian and by the few girls he had tried to dance with at Academy *****. He knew he was bad, but there was one thing he could do better than anyone of his generation. He retracted his Katana from the Saya (scabbard) on his belt.  The entire tribe sat motionless—feeling his power—waiting for what he would do next.

“KIAI”

Without warning, Cutty let out with the loudest vocalization anyone seated had ever heard. It filled the night sky, as it bounced off the mountains with its echo of immortality. The power of its reverberation infused into the tribe, and for the first time they felt the connection between themselves and this ancient warrior.

He would share his spirit with them, and their hearts would be renewed. Their ancestors were now looking down from above and smiling at what they saw.

Cutty had watched Stoneheart as he danced around the fire. His movements seemed much slower than the other (younger) dancers, but they had a subtleness to them that seemed to contain great meaning. The other dancers—no matter how energetic—could not capture the feeling that had poured out of his every movement. He knew he could not dance like that.

Cutty Raised His Katana Over His Head With Both Hands

He then dropped his head, before beginning Kata #8. It was the same Kata that he had performed for the crewmembers of the Kagoshima Sun. This form, when done perfectly, took exactly ninety seconds to complete. It was based upon a circular attack, and Cutty would have to amplify its movements to be able to make it around the fire as its last strike was ****** into the air.

Cutty KIAI’d again! He then leaped forward with both feet while striking with his sword both right and left. He jumped and rotated in mid-air, striking an imaginary opponent with a downward killing blow as he landed.

Opponent after imaginary opponent was slain as he made his way around the fire. Everyone seated was frozen in amazement as this intrepid warrior vanquished his enemies in ways that they had never seen. He swept the blade through the embers of the fire as he passed between tribal members seated in front of him.

Not One Of Them Ever Moved Or Flinched

In the shadow of the fire’s glow, there appeared to be three warriors dancing and slaying their enemies. Cutty made his way back to his starting position and then KIAI’d again before dropping his head. It was customary—in Samurai tradition—at this point for someone of authority to release him from his exercise. Captain Nagata had released him while on ship with the command “MOKUSO YAME!”

Cutty Stood Silent With His Head Down In The Firelight

A red-tailed hawk then cried out in the distance, as Stoneheart rose with his arms extended and again started to chant. Cutty took this as the signal for his release. He sat down where he stood and waited for what Stoneheart was going to do next.

Every member of the tribe was still seated and facing Cutty, many with their backs to the fire. Jimmy got up from where he was sitting and took a position just behind Cutty. Two young boys had also walked over and were now sitting quietly beside him.

Stoneheart Finished His Chant And Began To Speak

As Jimmy translated, Stoneheart told those seated that…

“Tonight is a new chapter in the history of the Blackfoot Piegan People. A warrior has been shot from the bow of all that is good, and he has come to free the Piegan from our enemies and to resurrect our spirit. He is a warrior who has fought many battles and walked on foreign lands—lands that we can only wonder about. His enemies have been many in the pursuit of his honor. Early on, he conquered the only enemy that might ever truly defeat him—and that was fear.”

Cutty smiled inside himself, as Jimmy translated Stoneheart’s final words.

“The wisdom of savages,” he remembered the Colonel once saying. If anything savage had happened—since first meeting the three Piegan at the station—Cutty wanted no further part of what posed as civilization.

Stoneheart looked at Not-Many-Prisoners and, with sign language, instructed him on something he wanted done. Jimmy did not translate this, but the look on his face showed total disbelief.

“What’s the matter, Cadet; is something wrong? Is it something I did?”

“No, Major; there is nothing wrong. A new chapter in the long history of the Blackfoot Piegan People is being written tonight—a chapter that none of us had ever foreseen. Please remain seated until Chief Stoneheart and Not-Many-Prisoners come to get you.”

Cutty looked back and forth across the fire. Every member of the tribe was looking directly at him, and they were shaking their heads up and down.  Several of the men had gotten up and followed to where Not-Many-Prisoners had walked off into the darkness.

“I wonder what kind of ceremony comes next,” thought Cutty. “I hope it is accompanied with food.”

His Stomach Had Started To Growl



Chapter 22: The Intercession

Two women—seated to Cutty’s right—approached him and started to tug at his blouse. He was instantly confused at this strange behavior, as Jimmy said: “Please give it to them, Major. The reason will become clear before the night is out.”

With a slight bit of embarrassment, Cutty removed his military blouse. The brass buttons reflected the fire’s light as the women walked off into the dark.

Cutty stood there naked from the waist up as every scar he had ever suffered in battle seemed to dance across his body. The People were mesmerized by these scars and started to talk among themselves.

“Holy Markings,” said Jimmy. “They see your scars as something holy, and in their storytelling, they will become symbols of reverence. It has been a long time since any of them have seen scars made by a sword, and this will only add to the sense of immortality that they already feel for you.

This is a truly magical night, Major; and the best part is still to come. I hope you can feel what we are all feeling.”

The Best Part Still To Come

Cutty started to feel the cold and moved closer to the fire. He tried to do it inconspicuously so that no one would notice, but an old woman sitting on the other side of the fire was watching him with great interest. She stood up and started to walk his way. When she got to where he was sitting, she removed the blanket she was wearing from around her shoulders and wrapped it across and over his back.

Her Head Was Down

Her eyes were almost closed, and she never looked up, as Cutty turned to thank her. Jimmy said something to the old woman in Piegan, and she stopped and turned around. Cutty reached out for her right hand and pulled her down closer to him by the fire.

He stared deeply into the old woman’s eyes. There was a wrinkled and withered beauty to her face that he had never seen before. Every line and crack seemed to be hiding something of extreme importance.

Cutty could feel the power come through her hand, as her eyes never blinked. She was another one of those kindred spirits who had seen more than can be observed in any one lifetime.

Cutty smiled and asked the old woman for her name. “Mimiteh,” the woman said as she held on to Cutty’s hand. “New Moon,” said Jimmy.

“The old woman’s name translates to New Moon. She has been a source of knowledge and renewal within our tribe for many years. No one is certain how old she is, but her stories go back to before the whites came to our land. She is one of only two people who can talk directly to the Old One and enter her teepee unannounced.”

After looking the old woman in the eye, Cutty said: ”She has stories that go back much further than that—further than even the Piegan language can tell.”

As she got back up and started to leave, Cutty repeated her name. She turned once more in his direction and said: “The wind only blows—and the waters only run—in the shadow of your spirit. The Piegan People now live in that shadow, waiting for a new dawn.”

A New Dawn

Cutty tried to speak to the old woman again as another woman wrapped her blanket around Mimiteh and led her away. “That other woman is Hanata, the mother of Stoneheart,” Jimmy said. “It is best now to just let them go about their work.”  

A new drumbeat had started in the distance as Stoneheart and Not-Many-Prisoners walked back around the fire. Cutty stood up to meet them as Jimmy looked over his right shoulder. The two Piegan Elders flanked Cutty on each side and walked him toward the darkness.

No one spoke, as they walked quietly along a narrow trail. The moon’s light was hidden by the cottonwood branches above—spread out in full bloom—and acting as a canopy.

Cutty looked back over his shoulder, but Jimmy was nowhere to be seen. He wondered where they were going and how long it would take. After ten minutes of slow walking, Cutty heard the sounds of running water. The drumbeat had gotten louder, and now seemed close, as it magnified each image inside Cutty’s imagination.

As they got closer to the stream, Cutty could see that it angled steeply down from a ravine high above. The moon’s light was again visible along its banks. There were seven teepees going up the stream’s rise. They were spread twenty to thirty feet apart, and there were curious writings and drawings on their outsides.

Stoneheart and Not-Many-Prisoners walked Cutty by six of the teepees not stopping until they arrived at the last one. It was situated at the top of a short rise where the land leveled off and he could see for miles even in the dark. Cutty could hear voices inside, and he could see the glow of a fire through the teepee’s deerskin covering.

The Other Six Teepees Had Been Dug Into The Gently Sloping Bank

Stoneheart took the blanket from the back of Cutty’s shoulders as Not-Many-Prisoners bent down and pulled back the flap. “Please enter, Ichiban,” Stoneheart said. “Please enter this teepee as a visitor for the last time.”

Cutty ducked his head and stepped under the flap. In the center of the tepee was a smaller version of the stone-ringed fire pit they had just danced around. Ten Blackfoot Piegan men were seated cross-legged around the fire. Cutty was led to a seat of prominence, at the very back of the teepee, where he could see the entrance when he looked straight ahead.

Stoneheart walked back around the fire and took a seat right in front of the flap. He was now 180 degrees across from Cutty and sat cross-legged as the rest. Cutty also crossed his legs.

For a long time, there was silence inside the ancient dwelling with the crackling of juniper wood the only sound being made. Cutty thought it brought peace—along with great warmth—as the spirits of those seated chased away the past.

Old Memories Were Now Free To Leave, As New Ones Rose From The Flames

we were
in bed
that day
when
there was a midday twilight

a daze crept over us
delicate
as a fast fog

it was the feeling of floating

a barely waking ecstasy
an unreal ethereal delirium
i cant describe it

it was
something
like nothing
ive ever felt before

in the belly of our canopy bed
in that forbidden flat
on a forever day

we laughed as she
pressed her head up
& pitched the draped overlay
wearing it
like a puffy white sombrero


as the
sun
filtered through
the linen cube glowed
a yellow shade

the two of us
waiting weightless
in this unearthly space

a monster teepee on a cloud
a sailboat in the sand


it all could have been
a heavenesque hallucination
but
for the fact that
she asked if i felt it too

i said i did
after she confessed
she had no words
to describe it

it was sublime
too simple
true

& it left by night
as we tucked in to watch movies
a mini projector hovering
images pressed against an endless cinema screen
almost as radiant
as our re-animation

Fell asleep thinking about the old house yesterday
And the adventures in the backyard where I used to play
Three acres might seem like a lot for little kid
But I knew those woods better than my parents did
My wooden teepee served as a safe haven
When the world didn't feel like a suitable place to be in
I dreamed about Max my old best friend
Who kept me safe from nightly creatures and boogy men
Just a dog who still has a special place in my heart
A great dane who was five when the world made us part
I thought about the overlook where we dumped our leaves
I remembered the long days just me and the trees
These days those woods have Max and Phoenix too
The Golden retriever who got me and my sisters through
Much of that thing we call childhood
I didn't know it then but now I would
Give anything and everything to go back
And run wild through those backyard paths
Then I was free, I did not care or notice
That things weren't exactly how they were suppose to be noted
Now I reside in this fowl world where I can't spare a minute
Take me back to the time when my world had no limits

I think of all the air I’ve breathed
Happily ******* it in to the maximum, and then
That time he forced it down
Swallowed my “no” with his tongue
Both instances equally oxygenated

Why are the somber, sober selections always
unequivocally deeper in their loveliness
Scathing crisscross critique
Harsh words cannot dampen my fire
Hot and smoky I inhale

Steaming in this teepee from my fourth grade field trip
some re-creation of real civilization
absent was the metallic machinery
I long for stars brighter than
Plastic Hollywood

Ten and I convinced your mother I had died in a car crash
The first instance of my violent imagination
My conscience, sloth like, inverted blame
Like a sock turned inside out
I wished what I said was true

Years later I started the slow process of intentionally dying
Stupid girl I was. Unoriginal like the others
Only sewed up my holes. They asked me if I had a plan
Spitefully silent and still
I did not reply because I did not care to

The rolling hills of my temper
Emerged as I exited the binding comfort of my home
Young adulthood in all its glorious newness left me devoid
Of confidence in my ability to breathe on my own
Therapy and tablets forced me to care

Today I am high
I spew words
You don’t write poetry she says
Playing with words like string
It runs through my fingers, loose then taught, then a mess of tangle on the floor

As ******* as my tongue
Lapping up the air

Brick barely coated in chipping white paint
Across from a theater with red crushed velvet seats
Green backyards & girls gripping beers
A beamed basement, home of the mountain boy
Not far from the teepee
Brown wood as dark as his ***
Ashy black woods where you gave me your sweatshirt
And my blue hair turned gold
Pale sun in bottles on his back porch
In the orange glow of early summer
Red blood drunkenly thrown away from a broken heart
And the saddest color I've ever seen
The color of something that could never be
The color of you and me

The days move on as you have done.
You spoke so often of leaving, I had to have you gone.

Run little man, run away again.
It's what you know. That's a lifestyle? That's not a life.

Run little man, run to your teepee.
On the road to ruin... never again to see me.

I thought I was your friend. I was never your foe.
I loved you so dearly, you will never know.

Really your loss, you will someday discover - I was your friend truly, you'll never find another - Like me.