Scars and Dreams

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Compelling
are
your
eyes
as
they
softly
speak
with
me.

With a slight nod of the head
I
return the hello
and
immediately
i
could
see,
your
invisible
scars
through
the
filtered
shadow
of
trees.

Your eyes offer
a question,
fluttering
like
a butterfly
outside
my
car
door.

Memories
chase
you…..
threaten to
break you…..

You glanced
an
adieu
in
my direction,
I gave you
a short smile goodbye,
you made
your
turn,
fading
into the
mid shadow
of
light.

How
was
it
I
could
see?

Your
battle
scars
and
dreams.

I have known, and often have seen that some dreams
you
pursue, and
some
you
set
free,
some
you
wear,
and
sometimes
time,
is
all
you
need.

The light
turned
green
and
you
began to drive away,
anxious
to
chase

your dreams

another
day.

Dedicated to the

Purple Rain in all of us.

Thank you,

Prince Rogers Nelson.

‘If a man dies, can he live again?’

#RIPPrince 

Picture of the lovely  Zawe Ashton.

#blackeagledream
Copyright 2016 

All rights reserved.

Measured Lines _ _

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Style is measured
in
increments
of
time
Some
people
write
some
people
rhyme
When we’ve gone
our
words
will
remain
celebrated
or not

A
writer

a
storyteller

a
wordsmith who 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

Biggie knew

Tupac too

So yes my friends 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
anymore.

We Shall Remain

Listening to the proponents of empty and redundant speech,
I sometimes often wonder who is it they could teach? About actions that pertain to honor, to promise, and to peace. Lovers of endless debate,
inside them I do see; vanity and arrogance, wrapped up nice and neat.
‘Why now?’ they flippantly ask today. Need I recall to your simplistic mind and apathetic way; for we both know if it had been decided upon by your forefathers back in the day; none could have rode that genocidal wave. So while you feign that changing the name would break your fragile hearts, we just want you to know that to us; the truth is clear, and not so far apart.
The land below, and the sky above and everything in between, belong to the One who made all things; as this is clearly seen.
Today this day, and in this time, confident we do speak; a consensus of pronouncements for all to hear and see.
It is He; the Creator, that has placed us here today,
and it is forever here;
that we 2 shall remain.

Dedicated to indigenous, native,
aboriginal peoples wherever they might be residing, thriving, and or surviving on the planet.

A special dedication to all Native Hawaiians, living at home or abroad.
We should not have to be homeless, and living in tents on the beaches of our own country. Kawika

#blackeagledream

The Billion Dollar Question

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Why is it that you cling to painful and hurtful things; these relics of your not so distant past?

These caricatures are destructive distortions; a mockery that lives in your mind, hand crafted lies, handed down through the annuals of time.
It is intellectually antiquated, and out of step they say; but those are the hate filled lies that many continue to embrace. But now is the opportunity to look inside yourselves and see;
all the ugly things you continue to portray native people to be.

Sweet land of liberty.

The indigenous peoples of this land
are not your mascots,
for you to dress up and play; nor are they here for you to mock their culture in any other way.
So keep your honor, for your honor does not ring true; it is hollow and disingenuous coming from men like you. So either lead, follow, or get out of the way; for the time of the Mascot has had it’s day.

#blackeagledream 

Posted from WordPress for Android fasho.

Into One

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Love weeps, blood seeps, yet the heart leaps from one desperate moment to another. It pants on to the end, an inescapable friend. When i look into your eyes it is then, and only then that i begin to grasp the mosaic of the mystery that is you.
How i do crave your body sweet;
as our bodies finally meet.
Like a flashpoint and a fire,
saturated with desire, and yes many
attempts were made, to pump those figurative brakes, but
as you can clearly see
deep inside i be; but leaving you high and dry never crossed my mind,
as i have no intention of being an honorable mention; as a lover who could not make the pretty lady sing. Falsetto tonight i bring, and it is you, and it is i, it is our souls that intertwine; as we merge our bodies and our longing into one.

I Don’t But I Do

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.

#blackeagledream 


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Cinnamon Tree

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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, white ginger snaps there 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 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.

#blackeagledream

[Picture from Pinterest]

The Chase

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Through the eyes
of
many
I
often
do
see,
the
young
and
the
old
as they
clash
and do cling.

Chasing
things,

and calling
them
dreams.

But as time does go,

and
go
it will;

it is rare indeed
to
see fulfilled,
in those
who
in
these days
and
times;

who dare question

the
rhythm,
the
rhyme.

So live your life,
and
do
what
you
do;
but
don’t
sacrifice
the
ones
that
mean
the
most
to
you.

#blackeagledream 

O’ Hawai’i Nei

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The wispy clouds
enshroud the sun
high above
Mauna Kea.
The kanaka maoli stand and say; Mauna Kea is indeed, a most sacred and essential place.

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Despite the occupation
of our land
it
is
important
for

all people

to understand;
you cannot drink money,
and you cannot buy what
can’t
be had.

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While others desire
to satisfy

their

curiosity

of the galaxies
far away;
they fail to preserve
the land in a
righteous,
and
practical way. And to that
all the hawaiian people say, Ku’e. We say Ku’e. Once again we exclaim; KU’E.
Let the reader be determinant.

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#blackeagledream

Indigenous Woman  

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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; 3,000 women died.

Probably more than that.

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.

#blackeagledream