Lakota

  • It is with great respect that I have posted, in total, this plaintive poem entitled “Lakota”, by the brilliant Joni Mitchell, written as lyrics, to address both a tragedy of geography, the raping of the innocent earth, but also a sorrowful lament for an original people who suffered in this great theft, perpetrated by the arrongant, greedy, imperialistic European invaders, who mindlessly and carelessmly, suppressed a nation of people – and a way of life! I posted this because I love Oregon, and the Lakota were an integral part of the episode of our nation regarding the Oregon trail, and the settling of the Pacific Northwest. I also posted this because I love Joni, and this is a powerful message she delivered. Finally I wrote this to keep the focus on the abysmal treatment of this nation’s first prople. I have included these powerful portraits of the proud, fierce, and beautiful Lakota.

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    Lakota Chieftain

     

    Lakota
    by Joni Mitchell

    ~

    I am Lakota!
    Lakota!
    Looking at money man,
    Diggin’ the deadly quotas,
    Out of balance,
    Out of hand.
    We want the land!
    Lay down the reeking ore!
    Don’t you hear the shrieking in the trees?
    Everywhere you touch the earth, she’s sore.
    Every time you skin her all things weep.
    Your money mocks us.
    Restitution, what good can it do?
    Kenneled in metered boxes
    Red dogs in debt to you!

    29749CD5-7E30-4DF5-BA0C-B995E43250CE
    Lakota Sash Wearer
     

    ~

    Lakota
    I am Lakota!
    Lakota!
    Fighting among ourselves.
    All we can say with one whole heart
    Is we won’t sell,
    No we’ll never sell,
    We want the land!
    The lonely coyote calls.
    In the woodlands, footprints of the deer.
    In the barrooms, poor drunk bastard falls.
    In the courtrooms, deaf ears, sixty years!
    You think we’re sleeping–but
    Quietly like rattlesnakes and stars
    We have seen the trampled rainbows
    In the smoke of cars.

    E7A6FD60-688D-461F-A5F3-8B0875DA3BDB
    Lakota Shaman
     

    ~

    I am Lakota!
    Brave,
    Sun pity me.
    I am Lakota!
    Broken,
    Moon pity me.
    I am Lakota!
    Grave
    Shadows stretching.
    Lakota,
    Oh pity me.
    I am Lakota!
    Weak,
    Grass pity me.
    I am Lakota!
    Faithful,
    Rocks pity me.
    I am Lakota!
    Meek,
    Standing water.
    Lakota,
    Oh pity me.

    03869FE7-926A-4712-9125-000DA390EA31
    Lakota Pride
     

    ~

    I am Lakota!
    Lakota!
    Standing on sacred land.
    We never sold these Black Hills
    To the missile-heads,
    To the power plants,
    We want the land!
    The bullet and the fence, broke Lakota.
    The black coats and the booze, broke Lakota.
    Courts that circumvent, choke Lakota.
    Nothing left to lose.
    Tell me grandfather,
    You spoke the fur and feather tongues,
    Do you hear the whimpering waters
    When the tractors come?
    Sun pity me!
    Mother earth,
    Mother Moon,
    Pity me.
    Father sky,
    Father
    Shadows
    Stretching on the forest floor.
    Mother earth,
    Oh pity me.
    Father sky
    Father grass,
    pity me.
    Mother earth
    Mother Rocks,
    pity me.
    Father sky,
    Father Water,
    Standing in a waken manner –
    Mother earth,
    Oh pity me!

    91494729-C43E-45B9-9872-3B7F98E870AA
    Lakota Warrior
     

    ~ ~ ~

    Joni Mitchell © 1988

     
    Initial United States contact with the Lakota during the Lewis and Clark Expedition of 1804–1806 was marked by a standoff. Lakota bands refused to allow the explorers to continue upstream, and the expedition prepared for battle, which never came. A land treaty was signed with the Lakota in 1851 granting the Lakota rights to the grassland plsins and the Black Hills. Nearly half a century later, after Fort Laramie had been built without permission on Lakota land, the Fort Laramie Treaty of 1851 was then negotiated to protect travelers on the Oregon Trail. The Lakota had previously attacked emigrant parties in a competition for resources, and also because some settlers had encroached on their lands. The Fort Laramie Treaty again acknowledged Lakota sovereignty over the Great Plains in exchange for free passage on the Oregon Trail for “as long as the river flows and the eagle flies”. The United States government did not enforce the treaty restriction against unauthorized settlement. Lakota and other bands attacked settlers and even emigrant trains, causing public pressure on the U.S. Army to punish the hostiles. On September 3, 1855, 700 soldiers under American General William S. Harney avenged the Grattan Massacre by attacking a Lakota village in Nebraska, killing about 100 men, women, and children. A series of short “wars” followed, and in 1862–1864, refugees from the “Dakota War of 1862” in Minnesota fled west to their allies in Montana and Dakota Territory. Increasing illegal white settlement after the American Civil War caused war once again. The Black Hills were considered sacred by the Lakota, and they objected to mining. Between 1866 and 1868 the U.S. Army fought the Lakota and their allies along the Bozeman Trail over U.S. Forts built to protect miners traveling along the trail. Oglala Chief Red Cloud led his people to victory in Red Cloud’s War. In 1868, the United States signed the 2nd Fort Laramie Treaty of 1868, exempting the Black Hills from all white settlement forever. Four years later gold was discovered there, and prospectors descended on the area. Again the land was raped, and the Lakota were scattered from their home land.
     

  • Click to read more contemplations on geography at dVerse:

    dVerse Poetics: On Geography

  • Cyberpunks

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    Cyberpunks

    ~

    behind locks
    chasing cheap thrills
    haunting comics shops
    slouched at bustops

    in their bedroom
    high on vaping
    huddled ‘round desktops
    typing nonstop

    in the darkness
    deep in basements
    corner coffee shops
    on their laptops

    somewhere out there
    without souls
    those mindless asshat
    internet trolls

    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 2019

    ___________________

  • Click below to read about more Trolls on dVerse:

    Quadrille #76 Troll


  • Trollbridge

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    Trollbridge

    ~

    a cocky little muskrat
    went out for a stroll
    came upon a tollbridge
    couldn’t pay the toll

    don’t pay – don’t cross
    or you’ll die
    warned a posted scroll

    muskrat laughed then strolled ahead
    next day they found bridge troll dead
    smiling muskrat strolled on

    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 2019

    ___________________

  • Click below to read about more Trolls on dVerse:

    Quadrille #76 Troll


  • Carcasses

    1C7C085C-B1D5-4D91-A05B-83F2F4704FBB

     

    Carcasses

    ~

    like discarded catch
    left out in the sun
    rotting from apathy

    carcasses of constituents
    who foolishly were trolled
    lured by the shiny lies
    took the bait – were reeled in

    while the foul beast of trump
    slouches off with eden
    marrow dripping from a smile

    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 2019

    ___________________

  • Click below to read about more Trolls on dVerse:

    Quadrille #76 Troll


  • The Key

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    The Key

    ~

    he has kept it locked for so long
    none can pass
    his grief makes certain none will try

    this is a dark forbidden place
    high-walled
    cold and barren
    unyielding
    lifeless

    brutal night has fallen
    no sun can penetrate

    the darkness soothes him
    he retreats into its depths
    hiding
    shielded from any further pain

    but see
    a shadow falls across the threshold
    someone approaches

    a comely being
    warm and alive
    lays gentle siege
    threatening to breach his hardened fortress

    but this lovely creature
    fair and fragile
    can not possibly gain entrance
    must not

    he will resist
    this is wrong
    this is trespass
    this is cruel betrayal of his lost beloved

    he has no right to leave this place of sorrow
    no right

    but his stronghold is succumbing
    falling to this delicate advance

    he is vulnerable
    confused
    but it is useless to resist

    searching with a patient heart
    she has found the key
    grasped in her loving hand
    fingers tenderly enfold it

    gently
    she slides it into the lock
    turning with great care

    he is defenseless
    he feels his heart slowly open
    the long forgotten stir of love
    begins to warm his soul

    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 2019

    _________________

     

  • Click below here to read more poetry at dVerse:

    Open Link Night # 239

     

    32AD0E85-B0A5-4D6D-B19A-E51CD04E0C53DAY 12

  • Beyond

    … the crossing over …

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    “Infinite Instance” by: rob kistner © 1997

     
    Beyond

    ~

    soon looms the curtain
    to lift then step beyond
    to see that which
    is not shown us here
    on this side
    of that gossamer veil

    unable as we are
    in this manifestation
    to comprehend
    the incomprehensible
    the infinite secret
    the truth that bursts to light

    but when I push beyond
    will I ride that light
    in all ways through time
    simultaneously at once
    in that eternal instant
    of forever’s open door

    existance will be no more
    will I be absolute
    indivisible from time
    absorbed by all of space
    a joy so profound
    as to be pure energy

    …if so, I am ready

    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 2019

    _____________________

    Gina is hosting at dVerse today. She asked us to think of a background “hum”, currently present in our life, that may be informing our creative vision. This is what appeared for me. On April 13th of 2017, an event occurred in my life, that since has been ever presnt in my mind. It drifts back and forth between the back of my mind and the forefront. My heart stopped while in the hospital on that night, while I was recovering from a heart operation. It led to an urgent implantation of my current Pacemaker. The memory of that episode lingers. It has put me profoundly in touch with my mortality. It also has left me intensely curious about those moments when I was essentially dead, and of which I have no memory. Where was the light which is so often mentioned? I now frequently ponder what the “crossing over” might be like. This is an ecstatic imagining of that.

    alwaysoptions

  • Click below to read about what’s humming on dVerse:

    Poetics -your poetic hum

  • Flame Of Learning

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    Flame Of Learning

    ~

    let’s reignite the flame of learning
    cast light upon this chilling fear
    our human spirit swells with yearning
    the voice of logic we long to hear

    cast light upon this chilling fear
    illuminate this spreading dark
    the voice of logic we long to hear
    an inferno grows from but one spark

    illuminate this spreading dark
    the warmth of truth we need to feel
    an inferno grows from but one spark
    our hungry heart seeks something real

    the warmth of truth we need to feel
    our human spirit swells with yearning
    our hungry heart seeks something real
    let’s reignite the flame of learning

    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 2019

    ____________________

    “This spreading winter of ignorance is more than the sane can bear”

    ____________________

     

    Links to my other 3 Pantoums:
    1.) Pantoumadness
    2.) Seabed Sway
    3.) Lady Blue

     

  • Click here to discover more pantoums at dVerse:

    Poetry–a Piece of Written Art

  • Conjured

    9FCE500B-6BE5-454F-84B2-975564908F70

     
    Conjured

    ~

    the restless
    unsleeping souls
    are conjured forth
    to celebrate this night’s
    rising unhallow voudon moon

    spirits entrapped in darkness
    possessed
    writhe here entranced
    in bestial
    rhythmic profane dance

    a demonic ritual
    of ungodly fire
    cast this spell
    of last atonement

    these lost forgotten
    called this deep night
    by dark houngan magic
    proffered by this voodoo priest

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    summoned
    from the place of limbo
    by this fevered shaman’s will
    to bear immortal witness

    seeking sanctified forgiveness
    eternal pardon
    to be ever spared
    the consuming void
    of graceless oblivion

    while unholy apparitions
    descend wraith-like
    in dreadful cluster
    to horror’s hellish plane

    these begging mercy
    rise supplicant
    from the papa loa’s
    sacred 8-point flame
    in merciful petition
    to the vengeful one

    lest this eater of the undead
    set upon the dawning morrow
    to steal the blessed light of hope

    and hurl the innocents
    into the pit of anguish

    foresaken
    lost forevermore

    conjured

    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 2019

    Poetics: Mardi Gras Mambo

     

    32AD0E85-B0A5-4D6D-B19A-E51CD04E0C53DAY 13

    Battling The Dragon

  • In memory of my friend, “piano man” Frank Weiss, 1950 – 2005 ALERT: This poem might prove alarming to some.

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    This is presented in fairy tale form, but this is not fantasy. This is based on a true story, no happy ending. A tale of woe, and a tale of warning. The tale of Sir Frank, the musical wizard, and the dragon he was fated to battle for seven (7) years. Sir Frank fought bravely, and fully accepted that this battle was his responsibility. This tale is not told lightly, but with genuine sadness, and enduring love.
     

    Battling The Dragon

    ~

    he had such a great laugh
    and talent 100 fold

    he was a keyboard wizard
    who conjured hard won magic
    on a daily basis
    riding persistent sentry
    over his mighty sleeping dragon
    keeping it at bay
    protecting himself and loved ones
    from its ravaging fire

    this dragon had held him captive
    for a number of years
    having overtaken him one day
    in a careless moment of weakness
    when this wizard had been foolish
    and let down his guard

    but the brave wizard
    Sir Frank as he was known
    had again found his courage
    and fought back the dragon
    driving it into submission
    difficult and tentative as it was

    sadly though
    the cunning dragon
    would not be held down
    and in a moment
    when the wizard’s vigilence
    had sadly waned
    the dragon pulled Sir Frank
    once more under his evil spell

    on this fateful day
    the wizard’s infectious laughter
    had become infected lunacy
    his beautiful dreams
    had again become dread

    as the nightmares returned
    the dragon imprisoned the wizard
    in its dark and haunted lair

    it was reported
    Sir Frank’s rants
    could be clearly heard
    above the bustle
    of the homeward privileged
    that passed unaware
    of the wizard’s dilemma

    the battle had raged
    coarse rants and ramblings
    rose from the rancid shadows
    until in final desperation
    fetid hands lit the fateful fire
    that brought to boil
    the white magic potion
    of the wizard’s deliverance

    he’d slipped the cold steel
    into the froth of sweet promise
    still warm with transformation
    and drew the white magic potion
    into the glassen’d vessel
    of ultimate escape

    tied and tapped into submission
    distraught from battle
    this magical musical wizard
    impaled his demons
    with the dragon’s dagger
    hoping the potion
    would drive back the dragon
    saving himself yet again

    but not this time
    no deliverance this time
    the dragon claimed the wizard
    as silver-white dreams
    carried him away

    the wizard was gone
    gone on his white horse
    for his final ride
    to the realm of no return

    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 2019

  • Chalkstripes

    chalklines

     
    Chalkstripes

    ~

    smell of gloveleather
    oiled in neatsfoot
    smooth ash bat handle
    heft on my shoulder
    scrape of metal spikes
    on concrete sidewalk
    vivid chalkstripes
    on soft tan dirt
    seamed cowhide sphere
    cupped in my hand
    ballcap tugged snug
    steppin’ on the ballfield
    remembering you dad

    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 2019

    __________________________

    Dad managed my high school hardball team. I managed my sons. This coming summer, my son will manage my grandson in T-ball.
     

  • Click below to read more Quadrilles at dVerse.

    Quadrille #75: Spike up a Poem

  • My Clown

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    My Clown

    ~

    is this the plot the studio intends
    an evil villain who’s a hopeless clown
    I wonder how this horror movie ends

    this clown’s so old he prob’ly wears depends
    that explains his struggle not to frown
    is this the plot the studio intends

    no way that clown and beauty queen are friends
    not as hot as she looks in that gown
    I wonder how this horror movie ends

    bet he’s gonna kill her with those book ends
    perhaps he’ll beat her with her pageant crown
    so what’s the plot the studio intends

    no wait, this is a RomCom – that offends
    all this lovey dovin’ brings me down
    this cannot be the way this movie ends

    I came here for horror – gore that frightens
    man this is such a disappointing letdown
    this can’t be the plot the studio intends
    this cannot be the way this movie ends

    the-clown350

    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 2019

     

  • Click below for more villanelles at dverse:

    Forms for all – the Villanelle

  • Temples of Avarice

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    Image by Tomasz Zaczeniuk

     
    Temples of Avarice

    ~

    they rose gargantuan
    these icons
    of the clever human

    they once vibrated
    with the rush and chaos
    of synapse and sinew

    they hummmed
    with networked urgency

    a torrent of data
    outdistancing comprehension

    ‘we can’
    beyond the reach
    of ‘should we’

    a time too blind
    to see its faulted fate
    a time to turn back
    sadly came too late

    bedecked in stainless
    stone
    and arrogance

    a halogen blaze
    of neon fire
    burnt logic

    they surged
    with the impulse of power
    and greed

    in varying shape
    and differing size
    they flanked for miles
    in gridded corridors

    that crissed and crossed
    blinked and beeped
    buzzed and hissed
    they stank!

    temples of avarice
    now but this lone
    crumbling monolith

    this final tribute
    to human folly

    ~ ~ ~
    ________________
    ________________

    55 Word Version

    ~

    they rose gargantuan
    these icons
    of the clever human
    shrines of synapse and sinew

    humming
    with networked urgency
    torrents of data
    outdistancing comprehension

    ‘we can’
    beyond the reach
    of ‘should we’

    bloated
    with a need for power
    diseased with greed

    temples of avarice
    now but this lone
    crumbling monolith

    this final tribute
    to human folly

    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 2019

    __________________________

     

    Click below to see what’s turning on dVerse.

    Turn, Turn, Turn . . .

    _________________________

    Click HERE to read more work on TOAD, inspired by this image

    Spring Song

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    Spring Song

    ~

    Mad March weather means Spring will soon arrive. My humor may actually survive. Winter rains held on long this year, but skies are begining to clear. This season improves my attitude, lifting my mood. My prodigal smile breaks through the parting clouds.

    Warming sun and gentle rain ignite seeds, pushing new sprouts through the rich fertile earth. This is nature’s cycle of rebirth. Butterflies cavort with eager buds bursting forth through ready limbs. Snow-melt swollen streams run fast beyond their brims.

    Songs of returning birds lilt brightly through greening trees. They carry like the fragrance of new blooms, wafting softly on the breeze. The smells, hues, and sounds of boisterous Spring make my heart begin to sing, and my spirit begin to dance!

    wings flutter gently
    spring breeze bends full flowered stems
    meadow dance begins

    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 2019

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    1FD28515-5C2E-408E-B949-3360C41F312C

    ______________________________

     

  • Click below to read more Haibuns at dVerse:

    Haibun Monday: March Madness

  • Seabed Sway

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    Seabed Sway

    (- SORROW -)

    ~

    beauty walks to the sea by her home
    on this broken cloudy day
    slips into the sea alone
    silently she swims away

    on this broken cloudy day
    alone with her fractured wishes
    silently she swims away
    deep down with the fishes

    alone with her fractured wishes
    a’swim in the seabed’s sway
    deep down with the fishes
    she is leaving it all today

    a’swim in the seabed’s sway
    with nothing more left to say
    she is leaving it all today
    the sea carries her spirit away

    ~ ~ ~
    ________________________

    (- HAPPINESS -)

    ~

    she walks to the sea by her home
    on this bright and sunny day
    slips into the sea alone
    joyfully she swims away

    on this bright and sunny day
    with her heart awash in wishes
    joyfully she swims away
    down with the colorful fishes

    with her heart awash in wishes
    a’swim in the seabed’s sway
    down with the colorful fishes
    she is filled with love today

    a’swim in the seabed’s sway
    neptune’s beauty on bold display
    she is filled with love today
    letting her dreams carry her away

    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 2019

    E5B2F659-8974-405C-8BE6-62DBB3D8AF51
    1EC4655A-8EF6-463F-AEB1-A99B1F43E062

     

    Links to my other 3 Pantoums:
    1.) Pantoumadness
    2.) Flame Of Learning
    3.) Lady Blue

     

  • Click below to read more Pantoums at dVerse:
    https://dversepoets.com/2019/02/28/18102/