"treaties" poems
its amazing what we’re capable of when pressed;
lunar launches
and shaman healing
hail marys
and fortunes of gold
heavy hauls
and broken borders
war, compassion
and treaties of peace
all those wild and lofty regressions from the mean;
soul re-settings
(from deadly deeds)
scores and scriptures
liberty and peace
walls, asylums
(in the jaws of defeat!)
channeled spirits
of warmth
and love
and connection
and sometimes, it’s just a little fodder;
pyramids and viaducts
aqua-lines and chunnels
spider climbs
and deep dives
(with base jumps near the high wire)
gardens, and divine art
and even water boards
(for beauty is always in the eye of the beholder!)
have a look around...
and let gratitude be your guide
Mar 28, 2017
Mar 28, 2017 at 11:56 PM UTC
By Arcassin Burnham
Fed up and in a bad place,
These aren't just emotions of anger and regret for
The situation at hand and the problems
That they are trying to reflect on america to start
Something we could not come back from,
Race wars,
Afraid to ride my bike down the street
Because of racism,
Afraid to date Caucasian girls because of racism,
Afraid to be black but proud,
Because of racism and these crooked white cops
That hide behind badges like cowards and pick away piece by piece at
The people that hasn't started any war since the assassination of
Martin Luther,
Any rule you abide by in law,
They'll still shoot ya,
And make it seem like you struggled or make it seem like
You tried to grab the gun from the holster and fight your way out,
"I'm not resisting ,.,... Stop shoving me , stop punching me , you
******* *****
Naughty by nature , but my mannerism's heaven sent,
When will these cops (pigs),
Stop killing our people and making families moarn,
We're all created by God , so why do y'all just leave people
Torn,
America Peace with love and prayers to my brown skin angels,
It's bad enough with black on black crime at every angle,
Y'all ******* up!!!
Protest , peace treaties , Misunderstood riots,
Using this against us ------> " You Have The Right To Remain Silent",
**** That!!!!!
Yelling to the world that the Justice system is biased,
What's drakest must come to light , well the future's at its brightest,
I love all races , I have white friends,
I wonder would Jesus come When the world ends,
But can't end it with a race war,
I'm ready to spread the word if you are,
Doing it for the kids and the poor.
Jul 10, 2016
Jul 10, 2016 at 6:58 AM UTC
diabetes
comes from treaties
from the hoagie fest
to the real test:
shrink
and his
****
May 14, 2015
May 14, 2015 at 4:24 PM UTC
Tangible sin, its what i'm looking for
let the rants and raves begin
cause tongues of fire can never settle
for a one line poem or a break in tone
they need the blood red of wine in their glass
these aristocrats drinking from the lower class
we are far too outspoken to speak of silence
that's something only the seculars teach
Maddness, now there's an idea i can get behind
Imagine ideas like countries
nuclear weapons at their highest state of alert
what we believe is what we once held true
and whose finger is this on the trigger?
then eventually, yes
the tyrants will get voted into office
doing away with terms and treaties of old
eventually you'll get two shoes per person
as you read your generation's scripture like truth
from the nearest stall bathroom wall
for a good time call, God
cause he doesn't charge you per hour
well, only on sunday mornings nine to noon
but for everlasting life who wouldn't drink that elixir?
just one more broken promise
cause Buddha told me i'd be back again
back again to serve in the same platoon of freedom fighters
Nov 1, 2011
Nov 1, 2011 at 11:57 PM UTC
Purposes as incomprehensible and wonderful as these purposes
Either you had no purpose or the purpose is beyond the end
The purpose of sitting is not to be satisfied or satiated
Because the timepiece not only serves a purpose, it is adapted to that
purpose
Except it was a secret purpose
The world is a mental activity, a dream of souls, without foundation,
purpose, weight or shape
People in collective idleness are even more repellent than when purpose
motivates them
God, glass, my townspeople! For what purpose?
His purpose and mine is to catch photons and store them in our bones
Lately, as have you, I have thought about our war and its purpose
To have a season for every purpose, Ecclesiastes was right about that
Names of plants, languages of mammals, purposes of insects, placement
of rocks
My friend who is counselor to kings and presidents never lacks purpose
To what purpose, April, do you return again?
Not to say there is no purpose necessarily, I just don’t immediately get it
Stately purposes, valor in battle, glorious annals of army and fleet, death
for the right cause
Use of violence by the local militia for a limited purpose, protect the
young from the janjaweed, the crop from the ****
The knight, the penitent misses last assessment of life’s purpose,
babbling for God to appear
I mean your entire purpose should be living, you must take living
seriously
Sleep with a purpose
Or lose all purpose beyond ****** child *** and food hoarding
Counting is associated with primitive forms of writing, that is the
purpose of poetry
The purpose of school is to introduce us to the world’s innumerable
wonders
Their corners sharp, their lines exact, as if their purpose was to show
the plane geometry of snow
That’s when everything becomes clear, purpose v. purposelessness
matters less
Lonely physics, national purpose
This then is the purpose of purposelessness (and of eating less)!
We will live with the question What was our purpose?
If we are not at home in the world, contributing purpose, we lose our
desire to stay here—and we die
The men who left the machine have started their own business, a new
endeavor by which they will keep warm and purposeful
You go the way of an unknown soldier, unable to assess the purpose of
the battle
Let Greece then know my purpose I retain, nor vex with new treaties my
peace in vain
And shake the purpose of my soul no more
May 8, 2017
May 8, 2017 at 5:43 AM UTC
All weapons of
the fates you've sealed
Are no match for
this pen I wield
The power to
articulate
Ticking rhyme bombs
to detonate
The conflicts waged
gambling mankind
My perfect hand
is treaties signed
Hellbent hounds pray
like dogs, I hunt
Frontline this notebook
battlefront
With metaphors
of mindless drones
Like similes
to brainwashed clones
Whose C4 booms
and IED's
Can't build bridges
like ABC's
Or tear them down
with death regimes
By rusting through
the war machines
Flamethrowin’ my
verbal grenade
With ****** noun
scorched-earth tirade
On militant
cold-blood elite
King cobras know
I'm packing heat
Seeking missile
resolution
Winged raptor
devolution
Prehistoric
barbarism
Literacy
cataclysm
Stockpiling
extinction bones
We're cavemen carving
fallout stones
My Hiroshima
prose explodes
With nuclear
bushido codes
Released from my
katana's ward
To free my press
from shogun lord
Oppressing haiku
imagery
And samurai
epigraphy
Expressions of
my ronin soul
Omitted by
the daimyo
Satsuma is my
poetry
My final draft's
Nagasaki
Ink cartridges
strapped 'round my neck
I print no charge
or background check
And ****** every
live round free
Of innocent
blood elegy
And killing sprees
of gunned-down news
Domestic violence
black and blues
A Number 2
pencil dependent
Obsolete
lead-head amendment
Open carry
shoots a blank
Empty shell case
at my think tank
So grip this peace
then **** and pull it
**** my diction
write the bullet
Oct 8, 2016
Oct 8, 2016 at 2:10 PM UTC
One on a reservation.
One on a plantation.
Many placed in concentration.
Sometimes you must question's the decision making.
One held back by laws.
One mistreated like the treaties never were signed.
Sometimes you must ponder the decision's making.
One treated by cowards with a Swatiska.
Only to see them run when the Allies came after them.
Others placed in camps within their native land.
Which were the Asians.
Although they were born Americans.
One group salute the litte dictator.
They still hoping for the days of segregation.
What was?
Will never be.
So, they essentially living out a dream.
What rights one group has achieved?
Was fought for down through the centuries.
But still we are America.
There's no better place to be.
I guess that's why others loves to come here.
Where else can you profess to truly be free?
Oh, we have those that claims we're stepping on their rights.
But, they must take this in account.
Only in America can you voice your views.
Without disappearing like you were a distant dream.
People says, we shouldn't live in the past.
Just notice when it's theirs the way they edit it down.
We see this when we visit many museums.
An American view point seems lost in articles.
Because , we're afraid to knowledge.
We kins to many people with a different race.
This we can't compare to lost without a trace.
Oct 1, 2012
Oct 1, 2012 at 8:04 AM UTC
Our politicians preach hope
While our nation struggles to cope
Stacking woman into binders
Deaf to all but hired reminders
Treaties & agreements for peace
While riots rage on in Greece
Told that we are doing just fine
As more join the food stamp line
American banks engorged with greed
Planting in free soil a debt ridden seed
The next Great Depression has already begun
& It matters not which candidate has won
With our cancer ridden healthcare
Attempts like duc-tape to repair
Voting to raise the debt ceiling
An American father kneeling
Praying to God to find a job
While outside “we the people” form a mob
The 99% chanting in the streets
Stubborn legislatures don’t budge from seats
C-span listens to recipes from cookbooks
A dull murmur of televised crooks
Unemployment continues to rise
Prophets sure of the world’s demise
Dec 4, 2012
Dec 4, 2012 at 3:07 PM UTC
Gymnasiums
Modern battlegrounds,,
Those days...
Blood on the floor,
And spittle.
Rival towns,
White - Red.
Sitting Bull long gone,
Custer long dead.
Native sons,
Sons of pioneers
Still locked in enmities,
Remembrances of treaties broken,
Lying words,
Hatreds long unspoken.
So much of fear
So little trust,
Braggarts claiming coup,
Braggarts thinking war
Through basketball.
So it was one night
I slipped and fell
In a reservation gym,
Heard the hiss and laughter,
Felt the rush of fear...
Anger came.
Before my racist pride
Could grow,
I felt a hand,
Heard a voice,
"You okay?'
Spike Bighorn
Pulled me to my feet
Before a silent crowd.
A quiet act of bravery
That spoke aloud
Made me see the way
Through hate,
Set me on a path
To lead me forty years....
An act of kindness
In a place of fear
Defuses tension,
Ends the wars,
Shames the cowards,
Fills the void
With hope.
-------------------
Jul 7, 2014
Jul 7, 2014 at 1:14 PM UTC
I'm a captured tooth nerve
amalgam appeased
restrained in containment
by my keeper
then I can be a prisoner
escaping the jail
my warder has lost
the keys of control
on dark days
my fathoms swirl
in murky mass
infused with blinding kelp
on good days
my porthole shows
clearness of eye
the glass reflects well
just to confuse
my ores composition
is misunderstood
the translation
metamorphic
changing
minute by minute
hour by hour
these ones are buggers
my microscope
isn't good with definition
will I or wont I
who knows
my borders are contested
being diplomatic
I make pacts and treaties
no monicker is required
the tried and tested
gentleman's agreement
that will do
my margins
can be thick or thin
comments fit in
usually they range
between
insult and praise
depending on the mood
I oft go to open cut mines
to find common minerals
which are useful on a daily basis
real effort is called for
when I delve into deep shafts
sometimes gems are quarried
precious ones to behold
well enough said
a letter is to be written
dear meditative home
we're returning soon
if we're delayed
after hours
p.s. leave the porch light on
Oct 16, 2013
Oct 16, 2013 at 5:52 AM UTC
Rapture, growing voice around the corner.
Crisp new diphthongs, sorry rounded vowels
unrehearsed. A twanging reverb. Certain
loosened phrasings shock the doorknob, like
'Clara...octaves...failings'. When I lift the
latch it's broken trailing consonants
streaming past the ceiling; bassy treaties,
sighing falling clothes and chord-crushed feeling.
Apr 5, 2013
Apr 5, 2013 at 11:32 AM UTC
Last call, last shout
Last drop till the last drought
We had our chance
And we're all still blowing it
Here's the line
Who will start towing it?
Sink or swim
It's time to start rowing it
We're all standing on
Broad shoulders of greed
We all grew up dependent
on disposable sneeds
Woven from the tufts
of the Redwood trees
But it's not our fault,
It wasn't you and me
It was some old grandstander
That we'll never see
Right...?
Well... Yes and no
And it only goes to show
That this house built of windows
Can't stand one more stones throw
So do we quit our jobs and stop driving?
**** I don't know...
We're past the point of blame
It's not all just a game
The more years you've got
The more hot you'll trot
Believe it or not...
So here's to the treaties!
Lower emissions and make it speedy!
**** all the billionaires,
Let's take care of the needy!
Too much to ask?
They never said it'd be easy.
Aug 18, 2021
Aug 18, 2021 at 1:15 AM UTC
Twenty-one years of what exactly was I taught? I believed you two to be super heroes, or so I thought. Turned seventeen realized life's nothing but a thought.
I'm thinking I'm alive, but really I'm not.
I saw past materialism, chose to sin.
Now I hope I can be forgiven, look into the mirror I'm afraid of my reflection.
I'm not who I was.
I'm not where I am.
I don't know who I am.
I can't find where to stand.
Miss the days when blankets were stronger than Fort Knox, and money had one meaning: to buy train stations, and the chances we took were cards in a box and we didn't use our cars to hotbox but we matched a lot.
While momma was tryin' to teach me don't monopolize the TV that's just greedy. Noweverydaygoesbyspeedy and I don't have an effort to make myself peace treaties stuck in my self pity, wallowing like a wallaby with abstract gynecology Twitter-less no one follows me I hate my top eight. I've ruined the recipe but I still eat this teaming plate so I'm just left with a bitter taste.
Mar 9, 2016
Mar 9, 2016 at 12:22 AM UTC
Six red roses fastened to my doorstep
wept half a dozen treaties
and begged to be kept.
Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 12:23 AM UTC
I be dapping
random *************
in the club.
A ***** walk up to me with a beer,
throws me a hand
and I dap him up.
We smile
and I don't even
know dude.
I swear
I've
signed Peace Treaties
in the club.
It's crazy, because sometimes
the girls
be acting foul
and cold;
even when you try
to grind
handing
them
a beer
as
a
peace-offering
they look back at you
across
demilitarized zones.
Jan 4, 2012
Jan 4, 2012 at 10:44 PM UTC
The height of mountains,the shine of fountains..
The parks with showers, the gardens with flowers..
The smile of a child,the noise in the wild..
The business of milk, the fashion of silk..
The shadow of a tree,the fruits in free..
The soil is not fertile, the prayers are futile...
The tractors replaced bull,the hospitals are full..
The spray on all plants, the organs have transplants..
The drift in season, the depleting woods is reason..
The survival is main, the life is in rain..
The wealth of an ocean,the ships in motion..
The fish have plea, the plastic out of sea..
The greeds of man,the lame monitoring of ban..
The conflicts of brooks, the treaties in books..
The lust of this soil, the blood on boil..
The globe with borders, the wars on orders..
The lynching for leather, the summits on weather..
The ivory is like gold,the tusks are sold..
The freedom of a bird, the eye of the third..
The world beyond sky,the rockets to fly..
The open tap in drain, the skyscrapers in vain..
The thunder is aloud, the uncertainty of cloud..
The huge rate of birth, the plight of the earth..
The crisis of starvation, the calendars for salvation..
The threats of weapon,the world war can happen..
The dark fumes in air, the need of care..
The melting of glacier, the authorities are lazier..
The havoc of disaster, the nature is still master..
The disappearance of sparrow, the mind in still narrow..
The nature can bind,the threat on man kind..
Aug 16, 2018
Aug 16, 2018 at 11:47 PM UTC
If God has a plan for us all,
then the wise make God the boss.
If the wages of sin is death,
and God gave us free will,
as we were created in his image,
to accomplish his plan as we
see fit, then i am forced
to conclude God doesn't pay
very well. He is not a
particularly good employer.
Working conditions are terrible.
In point of fact, God is not
our employer, because he doesn't
pay at all. Is he waiting for
bitcoins to catch on?
Or is he more into
spiritual slavery?
Is it wrong to question this?
It would seem self-evident
that if God gave us free will,
surely he expected us to use
it, even to question him.
If not, maybe God didn't
think it through first.
If our rewards are in the afterlife,
how can we be sure we will
get paid? No one has
verified any of this.
Is that what faith is, God?
Crossing our fingers?
Depending on you, the God
with a plan, the same plan
that takes from us all that
we love and cherish, just
as he gives us those same
things?
God is an Indian-giver.
We are each his image,
and we broke all of our
treaties with Indians.
Excuse me, Native Americans.
i don't want to offend
anybody,
least of all God.
Nov 25, 2013
Nov 25, 2013 at 1:28 PM UTC
(10/25/12)
The black days of history that many do not know
And many refuse to accept - of how the black man
Helped AMERICA to be the greatest country yet.
They was brought here as slaves because the
Color of their skin !
But their minds was never searched to see
What lied within.
Every ethnic group that came to the states
Had many a hardship that they had to face.
Every race that came was given a derogatory name
Which they had to accept and had felt the shame.
But they all contributed to this great nation of ours
Which is now known as the greatest power.
These are just a few facts of what the blacks
Had given to this nation, and many of these
Became part of our salvation.
FACTS: )1) john love- invented the pencil sharpener in 1897
2) Joseph lee -invented a bread making machine that mixed
The ingredients and kneaded the dough in 1895
3) Thomas l Jennings was the first African American to receive
A patent in 1821 which was for a dry cleaning process.
He used the money earned from his patent to purchase
Relatives out of slavery and support abolitionist causes.
4) madam c.j. walker (1867-1919) daughter of a former slave
Who suffered hair loss in her twenties and created hair care
Products , and allowed her to open a factory and school to
Train hundreds of black women to be economically self sufficient
And become one of the first female millionaires in U.S. history.
There is still something that burns in my heart
And when I think of it -it tears me apart
Of all the people in this great nation
That have been put to the ground
There lies one race that still lives
Way below the poverty line and
The government says there doing fine.
The “AMERICAN INDIAN” who had
Most all treaties broken and of this the
Government hasn’t spoken.
Many families of five and more
Living in a shack without a door
Just a blanket to stop the wind
To me this is a crying sin.
The Indian charities having to buy
fifty five gallon drums for water
And many of them on “back order”.
I know that I started writing this poem for the blacks
But on the Indian nations - I can’t turn my back.
We have to help one another, for we’re all
Sister and brother.
GOD BLESS US ALL
© L . RAMS
Oct 25, 2012
Oct 25, 2012 at 10:45 PM UTC
There is something that I can not see
Why the UNITED STATES has broken
So many AMERICAN INDIAN treaties?
We should put our heads down in shame
For the AMERICAN INDIANS are
Not the ones to blame.
They have been fighting so long for their rights
And have made the ultimate sacrifice.
They have given their lives for this nation
And still do not see their salvation.
All other ethnic groups have
become free from oppression
And their Indian rights have been
left to the u.s. discretion.
Why are they still classified as wards
Of the government, and their lives
Are still below the poverty line?
Isn’t this the biggest sign !
That they are still discriminated against.
They live in one room houses and shacks
And the government has turned their backs.
No running water and no electricity.
Is this the way it’s got to be?
A family of four or more
Sleeping on a ***** floor.
They were once known as the Indian nations
Now it’s total devastation.
People all over the world have heard
How the west was won
That it was with the almighty gun.
They just hear the one sided story
Of how Custer rode to glory.
But not the sufferings that they
Put the Indians through
And all they had to endure.
And suffer the humiliation of defeat
And drop down and scrounge for meat.
Oct 9, 2012
Oct 9, 2012 at 12:01 PM UTC
Magnificent castles
Impenetrable
Fortified as a heart
Who let's not an enemy in
Castle walls
Unscalable
Protection from the world
And all of its pain
The lonely king
Wants nothing more than a queen
To love him
As he honors her
As he showers her with gifts of a kingdom
And as she speaks
These kings defense
Boundaries
Armies and treaties
Sentries in the night on guard
Shields and armor
Impenetrable
Blades and arrows
To strike invaders down
The lonely king
Needs nothing more than a queen
A beautiful love
A glorious empire
As he's ruling by divine right
He puts God on her side
May 2, 2016
May 2, 2016 at 10:33 PM UTC
They say we have two halves of a whole brain.
Two sections that govern our actions
Like tyrants that ride horses with reigns made
Of nerves and weald weapons that shoot out sparks
Of neurons across our synapses
The lands of our minds that dips and rises like the Andes mountains
Amoung cerebellum fields
Where nervous horses hoofs trample
Nervous systems flowers and bend their stem
Into an L shaped pendulum that swings
Unevenly over corpus callosum oceans
That separate left and right.
Art and reason.
Two separate sets of war torn warriors fighting,
One with methodically measured maps
Marked with red flags between concurred lands of logic
And one with holistic metal armor that clinks and clanks
Around soldiers making music for them to march to
They fight over proper ways of reason
And creative formulations
Of treasons that ought not be crossed
Their trenches the rivens in our brains
That wet rot their feet with slimy blood and
Membrane juices
The left speaking in tongues
That right cannot hear when not
Set on staff lines
Or painted onto animal skin canvas
That once covered similar brain battles
Between right and left
Only to be cut and sectioned off
In improper fractions that yearn to be whole.
If only the sides would sign treaties of peace
With pens that pinch fibers together and bind
Halves into wholes.
Apr 21, 2013
Apr 21, 2013 at 6:44 PM UTC
A sword can cut and slash and ****
A pen can spew an inken spill
You wield your sword
To win a war
My pen writes peace treaties
By the score
The sword and the pen
Met on the battlefield
The sword was so much stronger
But the pen just would not yield
The sword swung first
The pen retracted
The sword flew past the nib
The pen quickly counter acted
The pen drew a tree
The sword stuck in the bark
Then the pen drew a forge
And drew a flame and a spark
He popped the sword in
And melted it down
Then drew a Parker pen mould
and an army was found
An army of pens
To rule the land
To fit snugly
In a peacekeepers hand
Mar 25, 2016
Mar 25, 2016 at 3:03 PM UTC
Toil and trouble
He went through it all
Just a man yet so much more
He was the seal of prophet hood
Orphan child
Never knew his mother
But brought with him all parents rights
And love for children alike
Illiterate and uneducated
Yet not a word was taken for granted
Read in the name of Your Lord
A duty upon believers to seek knowledge
A noble and trustworthy tradesman
His character and personality spoke for him
Can you imagine in those times
A woman proposed to him
Committed to his mission
Peace treaties and alliances
Evicting racism and hatred
He even fought with rules and principles
He preached for the sake of brother hood
Humanity and love
We were all one
No nationality, no patriotism
Such responsibility
Yet never a burden
Beaten and exiled he lost his wife and kids
Still he carried on for us
Courageous and fearless
Never judged anyone by their past or looks
Open minded and tolerant
Even when he was helpless
Jewish neighbours
And Christian cousin in laws
He believed in good relations
And practised what was preached
He spoke of a time riddled with strife
Temptations with every breath
Those people would be tested the most
And he prayed for people he never met
Yes we love him
Because he guided us to right
Showed us a perfect example
The role model we all aspire to
Jan 18, 2015
Jan 18, 2015 at 2:21 PM UTC
It's a rather pathetic feeling to be judged,
you feel miserable, hopeless.
Magic spells relieve the judgment, and
we are crowded with words.
Walls of marijuana paint the street,
Bodies merging to one in lower grounds.
These beautiful histories are slowly falling out of our torn bags.
Wars, treaties, sciences, humans, equations, languages are
tip toeing away
Fearful of my generation.
I pull them closer to me,
they still escape, as hard as I try.
We are losing societies, flames build our own.
I'm stranded in burns,
the pressure only grows from my generation.
Feb 27, 2012
Feb 27, 2012 at 5:15 PM UTC
insecure
is why we do
what we do
that is why we are vulnerable
does anyone else
notice that there are no natives
around
close enough
on waking up
I bet you think this poem is about you
who knows the plants?
the trees?
who can speak to nature
and make agreements with it?
who signed the organic peace treaties?
organic contracts
who tried torturing ethnicities
into demanding to the death
they are in the state of whiteness?
You do not understand how lost
unsafe
vulnerable
insecure
until you call for help
out of desperation
echoing!
into nativeless derangement
you were wrong
about being able to control nature
and there is nothing you know
that is organic that can renegotiate
the organic peace treaty
Mar 2, 2017
Mar 2, 2017 at 12:26 PM UTC