Tag: #poetry #blackeagledream

Black Eagle Dream

May 3rd, 2022
A Novel by Kawika A. Stafford

Chapter 31

Dwayne had only to tie down the homemade wooden ladder on the luggage rack of his old suburban, and the three men would be good to go. Dwayne had taken out the two rows of seats in order to make a comfortable pallet for his friend to rest upon. Cyrus was very weak now, so sitting for the entire journey would be impossible for the once powerful man. Dwayne phoned his friend Nadia Titla.

She was the managing editor and owner operator of a local native quarterly paper. Nadia had named it, ‘You Are On Indian Land’.

Her phone went to voicemail, so Dwayne let her know they were heading out to Shiprock, and also where he left the spare key. He had given her the alarm code, so she was prepared. Nadia, and her coworker Natalia were going to house sit while he was out of town.

Dwayne also told Nadia he had something important he wanted her to see.

He did not elaborate but promised to fill her in when he got back to town.

She wondered what could be that important.

Nadia had recently received the news regarding officer Bob and his alleged assault of a native american college student, Jesse Coyote. After interviewing Jesse, Nadia had asked Jesse if wanted to be a part of her first exposé highlighting his assault by an Antelope Springs police officer.

He agreed, and promised to provide pictures that had not been previously released by law enforcement.

Nadia had her mocs on the ground, in an attempt to get a statement.

Right now they appeared to be in damage control mode, which means they were avoiding her like small pox laden blankets.

She was the proverbial thorn in local law enforcement officials side in this part of Arizona. Nadia was relentless in reporting the numerous violations of indigenous peoples civil liberties. She had been hounding Chief Edwards for the last few years, but thus far he had been able to manipulate the system, circumventing the law and the truth at every turn.

She though was undeterred, as she felt that eventually something was going to have to give.

Copyright 2003 All Rights Reserved #blackeagledream
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Unfolded Vanity

April 1st, 2022
Unfolded Vanity

IN

my face,
I
dare
see,

a lifetime

etched
in
glassy
blue
misery.

How
it
is reverberant

this loss,

this gain,

living
a
life
of
unfiltered
pain.

Down
I
do
go,
to the unmarked
place;

striving
for
things
that
have
no
face.

Happiness

and

Joy

I

have

met

once

or

twice,

hollow

words;

they seem real nice.

My
smile feigned,
sheltering
the
torrent
of
my
tears,

nicely

done

down

through

the

years.

With
my
mind
I
do
see,

everything

and

everyone

that

has

been

lost

to

me.

Ah,
the
unfolding
of
my
vanity.

Chasing
the
wind
in a
desperate
place,
happiness
itself
it
does
escape;
leaving
me
to
grasp
for
shards
of
solace;
in
a
life
of
unfulfilled
dreams.

Copyright 2015 All Rights Reserved #blackeagledream
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In The Cut

March 29th, 2022
In The Cut

Traveling through this space of
mind
I often like to sit
and
rhyme
as I contemplate my
idiosyncratic qualifications.
Seems life has been more down than up,
as I struggle
not to
give a fuck
and remain relevant
with respects my dreams.
Along the way,
friends have proved to be
far
and
few in between;
yeah
you know what I mean.
But my girl
she’s been there
when no one else was.
She’s my hero she’s my buff, always there
laying in the cut,
keeping me warm
and
well fed.
For Lisa
My only friend….

Copyright 2018 All Rights Reserved #blackeagledream
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Rippin

March 25th, 2022
[The Disclaimer]

This poem 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
fucked with.

Copyright 2018 All Rights Reserved #blackeagledream
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Measured Lines _

March 23rd, 2022
Measured Lines _

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

So whether you be

a fiery speaker

or

a
keeper of dreams;

someone who writes

and

says what they mean…

You begin to grasp the power of words….. understanding
that the
boundary lines
of
our
very
existence….
our
lives
measured
in
the
path
we
take.

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….

Copyright February 2018 All Rights Reserved #blackeagledream
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Empty Rooms

March 20th, 2022
Yeah I guess it’s over

I know it to be true,

hard to pull the trigger

on

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)

#iwritealittle #poetry #writer #literaryfiction
#blackeagledream

Copyright 2017 All Rights Reserved #blackeagledream
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I Don’t But I Do

March 19th, 2022
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.

Copyright 2018 All Rights Reserved #blackeagledream
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Cinnamon Tree

March 17th, 2022
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
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When I Think of You

March 16th, 2022
It was in the spring of 1983 when the two of us went our own way.
It’s been a few years now
so I decided to write my say;
about a woman
a person
a friend.

About someone I can never forget.

Anchored by memories
buried
deep within my chest,
thoughts of her
her smile,
the
first day
that we met.
It was the summer of 1982.

She was twenty one, I was twenty two.
That face
that spirit
that body
that shine,
conversations shared
over
flower
and
wine.

These are only some of the memories that I keep;
When I think
of you.
Knowing
reflecting
understanding
still,
She was
the

one person
that
one
friend,
She was the one that….

(yeah that one.)
A love that never mends,
a loss,

a debt.
A check that was written

but never cashed,

A flower that bloomed but didn’t last.

These are some of the things I think about…

When I think of you….

End.

For Jackie

Copyright March 25, 2017 All Rights Reserved #blackeagledream
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With You

March 15th, 2022
Commit

to
yourself
to
be ever true
less
you be
misguided

from

the
essence

that
lies
within
you.

Depending
upon,

contractually
speaking,
and
in
consideration of;
the
height,
and
depth
of
your
love.

To grasp
the
vastness
of
what
Love is

and what it is not,

what
will be,
and
what
is taught
what is
known,
and
can’t be bought.

Ever shifting
are the
dunes
of mankind;
unsteady
in
all his ways.

Wandering
inside
your
head,

let
truth,

your
heart

be fed,

and
let
the
possibilities
begin
and
end;
With
You.

For Kameko

Copyright 2015 All Rights Reserved #blackeagledream
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Tag: #poetry #blackeagledream

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