Indigenous Woman  

Indigenous woman

who resides on the earth;

without her

what would life be worth?

No clans,

no nations,

no families

to be;

for

from her womb
the children spring.

It is she who should be honored

not beaten or killed;

not to be left

and

found in a field.

The carnage has not ended,

as you clearly see;

as evil men continue to walk

with impunity.

Thousands missing or murdered indigenous women continue to be snatched away;

by an acquaintance they knew,

or someone common but strange;

as the collective voice of the few,

falls upon the deaf ears of the many.

It is you, indigenous woman

who are to dignify your value

and worth;

and no one,

absolutely no one

has the right to take that from her.

Justice delayed is justice denied.

O’ Canada, you can’t deny…. the genocide; thousands dead no one charged with a crime.
This is dedicated to the missing and murdered indigenous women of Canada.
A special dedication to the families, and their communities who have suffered such painful losses.

#iwritealittle #writer #poetry #literaryfiction Copyright is Mine. #blackeagledream

Rippin

( the disclaimer )

This blog will not be begged

borrowed

or

shanghied son

no

not beat up sifted whipped nor

spun –

it is my intellectual property

and

my physical property too

so it shant be

quoted sampled or quipped

or

otherwise

f****d with.

Enjoy the day.

Kawika.

Read the

Black Eagle Dream Collection

@blackeagledream.com

#iwritealittle #literaryfiction #poetry #kanakamaoli

#rippinthedisclaimer

#blackeagledream

COPYRIGHT IS MINE.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

Kohala

image

O Kohala

the place that my grandma knew,

and her mom,

and her mom’s mom too.

Dense dark forest

filled with

hidden

meanings and mist;

crowd

my dreams

when I think of this.

The orange lava

of

Kilauea

image

marches….

flowing to the sea

preparing for

an

epic battle

with

an

ancient enemy.

The

glow of fire

reflects

off

my eyes

as I beam

at

the marvel of creation…

image

But

at last,

it is

this….

Waimea

of

old

that

I do

miss,

longing

for

her

misty

morning kiss…

to

caress me

in

her gentle arms

again.

image

As time moves ever forward

and I continue

to fade

it is

in

my mind

that

I travel

back and forth…

each

and

every day;

sometimes as a boy

but most times as a man.

The years do pass, people don’t last

as I continue

to cling

to a well worn

and

tattered dream.

What

does

it

all mean?

From the mountain
to

the

sea,
when

my

journey
is

complete;
in
Waipi’o Valley
is

where

I

will

sleep.

image

O Hawai’i nei,

embrace me

as

your native son

as

I

slumber

in your arms

until

that

promised day

has

come.

image

For my Mother Wanda Stevens Stafford. I thank you for instilling in me a sense of where I’m from, who, and from what river my koko flows. Thank you for introducing hawaiian music to me. I forgive you mom. Thank you for giving me life.

I love you mom.

A hui ho.

For my Grandmother, Annie Lincoln of Kohala, Hawai’i. I haven’t forgot you grandma.

For my great grandmother,

Abigail Mana of Kohala, Hawai’i.

For my great great grandmother,

Nina Kealiiwahamana, of Kohala, Hawai’i.

And to all those who came before;

A hui ho.

Written by Kawika A Stafford

All rights reserved.

Copyright is Mine

#blackeagledream

Link

Y>our Fears

Life
as a rule,

never
turns
out
the
way
we
hoped
it
to.

But if you live your life
with
clarity
and
purpose,
you
begin
to see.

Like
the
tolling
of the
bell
in
the
Square that calls to me.

In time

we
all
must
go
there,
to
embrace

our fragile humanity.

We
are
much
closer
to same

then

further apart,

depending
on
the types
of
seed
we
cultivate
in
our
heart,
the
source
of
all
y>our
fears.

#blackeagledream

All rights reserved. Copyright 2016

Having  

met you

in Barbados

while

walking

on the beach,

I observed
foamy

blue

water

caressing
your
quiet
feet.
Our eyes
became
entangled
in more
than a casual way
We ended up talking —

walking
down
the
beach

that

day
But
I won’t even front,
even if
I
could

because
it

was

that

God

given
complexion
that
arrested
my
attention
on
that
warm
Bajan
day.
It was
your
countenance
over
conversation
carried

by
the

wind,
It was
your

natural

vibe

reviving
my soul

again

With your

alluding
to

the facts

as

you

understood them

then;

saying
that I should rise up to confront

life….

And…
that things would turn out better

if I did.

From then to now

and

now

and

then

it

has
been
simply
unspoken

a bond

unbroken
holding us

together

as friends…

Now married to you….

thirty five years later,

we walk together

again…

Having met you
on

a
beach
in
Barbados.

End.
For Lisa

#having

#blackeagledream

All rights reserved.

Copyright

May 6th, 2017

In the Quiet

In the quiet

where my dreams have grown still

I wait for God

I always will….

meditating upon

the day

when

pain

and

death

will pass away,

and

the earth

and

the works

within

it…

will be recovered.

Who really is my brother ?

In the quiet….

I do see

an earth

restored,

beautiful

clean.

When waves will break endlessly…

and

the trees

will

heal

the nations.

In the quiet….

where

I wait,

as

I continue

to

contemplate…

of

an hour

when

many

will not

fathom

it

to

be….

The conclusion

of

this

system

of

things.

To Jehovah’s house they should

flee…

To Jehovah’s house they should

be….

So that they

might

reside in security;

In the quiet…

before

the storm.

This piece is dedicated to my girls….

(all five of them.)

To all my brothers,

(all 8.4 million of them)

No matter who you are

or

where you might be,

May you have peace.

For Kameko…

For my brother….

Don Lowe

For my sister

Mady Lowe…

Picture provided by:

Natalia M. K. James

#inthequiet #iwritealittle #poetry #blackeagledream

WRITTEN:

September 11, 2020

COPYRIGHT September 11, 2020

All Rights Reserved

Escape

We all know it to be true,
one line for him
another
for you.
But
these things
like
all things
will be

taken away,

the wax has all melted,
the
wick it does fade.

Flee to the mountain
so
that you might escape,
make haste
my daughters
there’s
no time
to
waste.

Escape.

COPYRIGHT 2020

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

All applicable laws for intellectual property is to be observed. Kawika. 2020.

#iwritealittle #poetry #blackeagledream

I Don’t Write For You

image

I don’t write
because I can
or to have you
in the palm of hand
I don’t write
because I do,
I write because I have to.
Hunger turned inside out
causing me to quake
scribbling like a junkie
prepping his next bake
The high to write
grips my soul
as I begin
to shake
Held fast by
a passion I
never want to escape
No I cannot put it down
until I have rendered her
her due
as I slowly whisper
to myself,
I
don’t
write
for
you.

#blackeagledream

Butterfly on a String 

Reconciled

to write

as

I do

a

strange twist of fate

for

loving

you.

Embracing that

you

be elusive

yet

cling….

Like

a

butterfly

on

a

string.

You offer hope

as a candle

shining brightly

in a

darkened place.

Life

has not

been

kind

but

you’ve never been one to complain.

Always pushing forward

keeping

your priorities straight.

You….

whose

love

has risen

above the fray –

A truly quiet
and

gentle soul…

Lisa

is

her

name.

For Lisa

#butterflyonastring
#blackeagledream

All Rights Reserved

Copyright is mine 12/25/2017

Measured Lines _

image

Style is measured
in
increments
of
time.
Some people
write,
some people
rhyme.

A
writer,

a
storyteller,

a
keeper of dreams;

it
really
all
feels
the
same
with
me.

Words
are
the
boundary
lines
of
our
very
existence,
our
lives
measured
in
the
path
we
take.

Malcolm X knew,

image

Martin Luther King too.

image

When
we’ve gone
our
words
will
remain,
celebrated,
or
not.

So yes
write;
and
to
yourself
be
true,
yes
write
until
the
pen
does
bend,
and
the
warmth
of
the sun
is
not
felt
on
your
face
again,
any
more.