What is it about words that grip our
souls in a
keenness of obsession?
How did we know,
when
did
we first see?
It is
here,
and
or
there,
that
we
both feed.
Our
obsession.
Our
need.
Words indeed,
more a
collective desire
than of
greed.
We have been
consumed.
A force from within, not our
only sin;
for words we often endure,
and hold back in.
Words taste,
and
are like
the sound you make;
when that first bite
of well done
explodes in your face.
I too have this need;
to write,
and to feed,
all the
hunger
inside
of
me.
I don’t,
but
I do;
really
need you.
Copyright 2018 All Rights Reserved #blackeagledream
Mankind has been melding for a long long time, peeling back lies, kinship denied, all colors truly sublime to me.
How can the many deny what they see; when they look at the cinnamon tree of we? Of course there is no such cinnamon tree, but man is like cinnamon himself; the blending of many trees on one shelf. Abrade back those layers, and you will find, your skin tone, and that of mine. Chocolate complexion, and honey dip hues, with white ginger snaps just for you. So many choices, so much to see; no sense to hate on such skin deep things, for there is no advantage with you,
or me.
When you lay down and die, your people will cry; just, like, mine. Cream colored lies fuel the fire, unfulfilled lives in death’s attire. One earth, one life, one hope to live, just try living it without such preconceived shit.
For we are here today, and gone tomorrow, there is no one that is exempt. Back to the dust do we fade, no time for regret.
Be it the ground we lay,
or the ocean stay,
or up in the mountains far and away;
in the end the question still remains:
‘If a man dies, can he live again?’
Time traveled, memories, pain,
time changes everything.
Everything.
End.
Copyright 2017 All Rights Reserved #blackeagledream
me and you. Thirty one years has come and gone it took us some time to write this song, fading is my heart away. This feeling of dread encircles my soul, my heart beats silent, quiet
alone. Empty rooms, our hair turned grey. Where do all the memories go – to fade? Yes time like fire rages on; consuming us in its midst. For Lisa (85words4u)
Peaceful words, comforting intentions,
we’re abstract
without
dimensions.
Mandela knew
and had seen;
peace
war
prison
eight by seven,
African man’s heaven.
It will take more
than words
to bring
men
peace.
It was true then,
and is true still.
People of earth
in every land
can you not see?
Man flails,
woman wails,
children die,
all cry.
O mankind
brother of mine,
will not
a sign be given
and seen;
so all people
can be truly free?
Why is it
you cannot
comprehend
of
what I speak?
This story is through; adieu,
one hundred words from me;
to you.
Copyright Dec. 2015 All Rights Reserved #blackeagledream
Sonny Ray was living in
Las Vegas, Nevada when his father died.
Sonny Ray and his family had arrived at the pow wow on the Paiute Reservation on Saturday evening.
It was the annual event for the Memorial Day weekend.
Sonny Ray was standing in line for some frybread when his phone rang.
It was his older brother Walter, calling from Arizona with some really bad news.
“Sonny Ray,” she called out softly, momentarily interrupting his thoughts. “Are you going to be all right?” Nikko, had taken their daughter, little Raye for a walk, and was not there when he had first taken the call. She was clearly shaken herself, but her concern now was for her husband.
After leaving the pow wow early, they headed home, exchanging occasional glances, and holding hands. Sonny Ray now stared straight ahead, hot stinging tears rolled slowly from his eyes. Nikko caressed his shoulders, gently rubbing the nape of his neck.
Little Raye lay fast asleep in the back seat of the car, as they continued south on interstate ninety five.
Sonny Ray was numb. He just wanted to get home to make some calls, and check on a flight to Tucson.
The following morning, Sonny Ray sat on the edge of his bed, thinking about the last conversation he had had with his father. He was packed and ready, waiting on the girls.
Sonny Ray sat on an emotional precipice, teetering on the edge but outwardly behaving like his life was; as it always had been.
“Sonny Ray can I get you something, are you ok?” Nikko asked again, pleading now more present in her voice. “Yeah, no I’m
fine,” Sonny Ray responded, trying to sound casual like he had been in a fender bender.
But like most people who find out unexpectedly, that someone that they love has died, there is a sudden queasy pain; like how it felt when you got sucker punched in the stomach by the neighborhood bully.
A dull uneasy feeling coursed through his body.
A feeling that literally wanted to make him curl up in a ball, and pretend he never heard the words. For Sonny Ray, guilt spread slowly over his body.
Just two months prior, Sonny Ray’s father Billy had called. He sat on his bed staring at the floor, his fathers question reverberating over and over
again in his mind.
‘Son, when are you going to come down and visit your old man?’
“Nikko I’m ready, can we go?”
Sonny Ray sat quietly, because he realized not even his dad dying could alter his wife’s perception about time. She always appeared preoccupied; searching for something, forgetting nothing.
Sonny Ray knew he had to keep his composure, as he was feeling emotionally unstable, since receiving the news about his father. Nikko pulled up to the terminal to drop her husband off. Sonny Ray held his five year old daughter little Raye in his arms. Nikko kissed Sonny Ray on the lips, and squeezed his hand gently.
“Don’t forget to feed Thunderheart,” Sonny Ray said trying to give his wife the stink eye. “Whatever Son,” Nikko said, feigning offense.
Nikko had forgotten to feed his horse one Saturday when he had went to Casa Grande, Arizona to ride a few bulls at Charlie Sampson’s bull riding school.
Over the years it had become their banter.
“Call me when you get a flight booked babe,” Sonny Ray said, as Nikko and little Raye drove away.
Sonny Ray grabbed his bag out of the overhead compartment, and stood quietly impatient like everyone else; desperate to get out of this confined space. His older brother Walter greeted him at the gate. They bear hugged and left the cool confines of the airport, venturing out into the warm Arizona night.
Sonny Ray and his family had migrated to Las Vegas two years previous. The two men had barely spoken. After a few miles Walter asked, “You feel like stopping at Johnny’s for something to eat?”
It was their old man’s favorite spot. “Sure, let’s go,” Sonny Ray replied.
“Mommy, when is my daddy coming home, huh when mommy?” Nikko smiled as she tucked her baby in for the night. “I don’t know baby your daddy has to help uncle Stewart with the funeral arrangements…” Nikko suddenly realized she was speaking to a five year old. “Daddy has to help uncle with grandpa’s things.” “What’s a funernull? What did you call it mommy?” “I called it goodnight little lady, mommy will talk to you more about it in the morning. Sleep tight. I love you.” Nikko kissed her baby on her cheeks, as was their custom. “Okay mommy, love you.”
Nikko finished the dishes and made herself a cup of chai tea. She sat curled up on the couch, wrapped in a warm Pendleton blanket. She looked at the picture of her husband, and her brother in law Walter, in happier times. “I hope those two can keep it together,” Nikko thought out loud.
For two brothers who were really close at one time, they could be equally stubborn about a lot of shit. Typical petty guy shit. Nikko enjoyed her tea before heading off to a hot relaxing soak in the bath.
Copyright 2003 All Rights Reserved #blackeagledream
A Novel by Kawika A. StaffordChapter 2“C’mon Son let’s get going,” Walter said, as he finished paying the cashier. “Hang on brother I gotta pee,” Sonny Ray replied. Walter stood there shaking his head at his younger brother. “I’ll meet you at the truck. Hurry up big coconut head boy,” Walter said smiling at his younger brother.
“I’m right behind you bruh.”
Sonny Ray soon exited their old man’s favorite restaurant, and headed down the sidewalk. As he looked to see where his brother was parked, he saw three young men standing around Walter in a semi circle.
The three men wore their Santa Rita High School letterman jackets, and by their collective size they looked to be football players.
Sonny Ray smiled. He was going to get his brother good. Sonny Ray walked by, pretending to be talking comically to Walter on the phone. The three men ignored the large brown man, choosing to focus on the frumpy thirty seven year old dude. Walter glanced at his brother, wondering what he was up to.
“Now listen guys, I assure you I am not mexican,” Walter said as he watched Sonny Ray approach the tri-squad of punks from behind. “Hey!,” Sonny Ray bellowed from behind, startling the three men. That always made Sonny Ray smile. He loved when people jumped like that.
“Hey guys is everything okay over here?”
Sonny Ray spoke to the four men like he was an overly concerned senior citizen. The three young men didn’t know it but this would be Sonny Ray’s one sincere attempt to diffuse the moment, so him and his brother could be on their way.
But if that didn’t work out; Sonny Ray was more than willing to put in some work, and scrap with these three in defense of his older brother.
“Why can’t you mexicans just go back to where you belong?” the primary antagonist had asked, as he pointed a finger in Walter’s face.
The biggest guy among the three assumed the position of spokesman. Sonny Ray approached slowly, and stood near to the three men. Sonny Ray motioned to the spokesman to come closer. The oversized teenager was about six foot six, a couple inches taller than Sonny Ray, but he came forward cautiously, as Sonny Ray had the look of someone who you would not want to get a hold of you.
“Listen to me for one minute young man.”
Sonny Ray spoke in a low tone. He looked at the young man in earnest. Sonny Ray recalled when he was bullet proof. “I have no desire to put my hands on you in front of your friends, but I will.”
The cock sure young man’s countenance dropped ever so slightly. Sonny Ray continued. “Listen man, I just flew in town tonight. My old man died, and I’m tired. Do me a favor, step aside; and me and my brother can go. Please.”
Mistaking his forbearance for weakness, the big man looked at his two friends, then at Walter, and then putting his finger in Sonny Ray’s face he says;
“Man fuck you, and your dead dad, old man.”
A quiet spasm of stillness ensued.
Snap.
Sonny Ray looked at Walter then at the three men, and then back at his brother.
“We’re hawaiians okay, but if I was mexican,” Sonny Ray suddenly took a step back, dipped his knees slightly, and in one smooth motion Sonny Ray turned his torso sharply, and slammed a left hook off the side of the big fellas face.
The punch created a clap, like a short but crisp sound of electric static. The big man dropped, and was stunned for sure, but after regaining his footing he stood up, wobbling he came forward, wanting to make a showing in front of his peers.
Sonny Ray admired the bullet proof moment; even as he launched his forehead into the big man’s nose and mouth. As the big man began to fall for the second time, Walter ran to his truck in a panic, with Sonny Ray walking casually behind, unhurried.
“How’s that for a big coconut head?” Sonny Ray asked as blood trickled down his forehead. Walter made a quick exit from Johnny’s parking lot, causing Sonny Ray to bump his head on the headliner.
Walter, not known for his fighting prowess, decided to go all Starsky and Hutch on his younger brother. “Slow down moron, and stop swerving,”
Sonny Ray said, giving his brother the stink eye.
Meanwhile,
The two other wannabe combatants stood quietly in the parking lot of Johnny’s restaurant, as Walter and his brother headed east to their dead dad’s apartment.
Their goliath lay flat on his back, unaware that he was not available for any further unsolicited comments about the two strangers deceased father.
They continued east on 22nd street. After turning north on Swan road they drove a couple of miles. Walter turned into the Swan Crest Apartment’s parking lot.
The brothers walked quietly down the sidewalk, the same lonely sidewalk their father had walked for the last several years since the divorce. Walter unlocked the door. The stench of stale cigarettes hung in the air. Empty beer cans were overflowing from a paper commissary bag in the corner of the kitchen.
There was a dirty dog dish with half a can of mushy dog food under the kitchen table near a large window. “Who took Tyrone?” Sonny Ray asked as he plopped down in his old man’s recliner. “Your sister, here.” Walter handed his brother a makeshift ice bag.
Sonny Ray placed the frozen bag of corn right over the small gash on his forehead. “Caught his tooth,” Sonny Ray said with a grin.
“Yeah I see that,” Walter replied. Sonny Ray stood up. “Brother I promised the girls I would call to say goodnight, so I will talk to you in the morning,” Sonny Ray said walking down the narrow hallway. “In the morning then Son,” Walter replied as he looked at his glow in the dark Timex wrist watch.
Sonny Ray opened his eyes. His mouth was dry. He sat up groggily looking around. He flopped back down and decided he should take a trip down memory lane before breakfast.
Of course their old man only had a two bedroom apartment so this tour was going to have a quick turnaround. “Man, this place stinks,” Sonny Ray thought, walking down the hallway, trying to avoid the issue at hand.
After sharing a cup of coffee together, Walter went to shower as Sonny Ray sat quietly, working on his second cup. His father had a few pictures on the wall of his children when they were all much younger, living in different places.
As a kid, Sonny Ray loved traveling. Sonny Ray had lived in Ohio, Hawaii, Japan, North Carolina, Georgia, California, Arizona, Alaska, and Nevada.
His mother was native hawaiian, from Waimea, on the big island. His father was from Erie, Pennsylvania. His father rarely spoke of his relatives, which over the years Sonny Ray thought was odd, but he never pressed the old man about it.
Truthfully it didn’t really matter to him, because in certain respects he was odd man out on either side of the family tree.
Sonny Ray had long wavy hair. Walter was more conservative with short hair. Both had hazel eyes. Walter was fair, as was there two other siblings. Sonny Ray was considerably darker, and the tallest at six foot four.
Sonny Ray’s siblings would tease him that he was adopted when they were growing up.
When Sonny Ray graduated from high school in 1978 he left Arizona five days later. He had planned, waited, and saved his money. At seventeen he had purchased his own ticket. Sonny Ray had dreamed of moving back to Hawaii since the age of five when his father had been ordered to Southeast Asia, to serve in Vietnam for two tours.
After years of waiting he finally returned home. It was only a matter of a few weeks though that Sonny Ray discovered that he was not quite as hawaiian as he had perceived himself to be.
The local boys made him painfully aware that not only had he not grown up there but he was half white. When he got older, Sonny Ray scoffed at their way of thinking because he knew the majority of people living in Hawaii today are not native hawaiian, and those who are kānaka maoli, are mostly mixed blood as well.
Nonetheless, he walked amongst his contemporaries as the culturally lacking invisible man.
Years later, by chance and circumstance, he had moved to Las Vegas, Nevada. He began to meet many local people from Hawaii, who were streaming out of the islands in mass, leaving it to the rich, the hollywood elite, the wealthy Asian and European investors, and a boatload of Americans with their inequity of entitlement prominently on display.
Las Vegas had been dubbed the ninth island. But after years of being not quite right in the eyes of others; Sonny Ray grew indifferent towards people. He was tired of proving who he was, and who he wasn’t.
Walter nudged his brother, interrupting his private cultural tug of war. The elevator doors opened.
They had arrived at St. Joseph hospital to meet with a Dr. Campbell. Sonny Ray and Walter rode the elevator in an uncomfortable silence.
“Can I help you two?” the nurse asked. “Uh yes, my brother and I are here to meet with Dr. Campbell,” Walter replied.
Walter had always been very businesslike in his dealings with people. “Certainly. Dr. Campbell is running a little late today, perhaps I could take you to your father’s room until he arrives,” the nurse offered. “That would be fine,” Walter replied as the two men followed the nurse down the hallway.
The knot in Sonny Ray’s throat increased to the size of a golf ball as they approached the sliding door of their father’s room. After opening the sliding door, Walter held the curtain open as Sonny Ray entered the room. Their father lie in his bed passively.
Various machines, and tubes, were on both sides of his bed. With tubes in his nose, and sensors on his fingers, his face was dominated with a monstrous tube down his throat, eclipsing his face.
White medical tape held everything in place, robbing their father of his humanity. Billy’s eyes were closed as the two men approached the bed.
Sonny Ray gently placed his scarred hand upon his dad’s forehead. “Ah, dad,” Sonny Ray felt light headed as he finger combed his dad’s silvery hair.
Walter, who typically was not a man given to tears, wept openly.
The unusual sound of the pump caught Sonny Ray’s attention. As he watched, the pump caused his fathers chest to rise and fall in an eerie metallic rhythm. Both men had become fixated, and stared blankly at their father. “I’m sorry did you say something?” Sonny Ray asked. “You remember what dad always told us,” Walter said with the sound of resignation in his voice. Sonny Ray looked up at his brother.
“Yeah, I remember, he didn’t want no fat nurse wiping his ass, or slapping him when no one was around,” Sonny Ray said, feigning a weak smile.
The door slid open, as a middle aged man with glasses walked in slowly. After closing the door he turned and faced the three men. “Excuse me, I hope I’m not intruding,” Dr. Campbell said apologetically. “No, please doctor come in,” Walter said shaking the older man’s hand. “Dr. Campbell this is my brother Sonny Ray.”
The doctor extended his hand, looking up at the large Hawaiian.
“I’m pleased to meet you young man.”
“Likewise sir, Sonny Ray said, firmly shaking the doctors hand.
Copyright 2003 All Rights Reserved #blackeagledream
A Novel by Kawika A. StaffordChapter 3Nikko stood in the doorway looking at her daughter affectionately.
Raye slept peacefully, taking her usual afternoon nap.
She began to reflect when her daughter had been born in Tucson.A nurse had wheeled her daughter into the room so that she could breast feed her.
“Oh, I’m sorry I must be in the wrong room,” nurse Pavlov said.“No you’re in the right room, and that is my baby, so,” Nikko said, her voice beginning to trail off.She had to have an emergency cesarean. She was weak, and groggy. The nurse reacted as though she had not heard Nikko. The nurse continued to look at the infant information card, and back at Nikko.The nurse did this several times, before wheeling the newborn up to the side of the bed. “There you go,” nurse ratchet said with an aspartame smile.Nikko could feel a small fire beginning to burn inside her.However, she took a breath, not wanting her daughter to hear any unnecessary nonsense right from the beginning of her young life.She would experience America soon enough.As the nurse prepared to leave, Nikko couldn’t resist a little condescending smile.As she began to feed her child, she watched the nurse leave the room with the swish swish sound of her white hospital dress and white panty hose echoing in her ears.
The sound of her tea pot whistling interrupted her thoughts.She stood in the kitchen waiting for her tea to seep to its fullest flavor.Nikko mulled over how insensitive some people could be. She knew that everyone in general, was color conscious to a greater or lesser degree.Throughout her life she had heard all the simple simon rhetoric, white with white, black with black, bullshit.She poured some cream into her cup, and stirred it gently.
Black Eagle Dream 
