StarPoet Newsletter Vol. XIII, No. VI

Crazy Horse dreamed,
Went into the other world,
The one behind this one,
As real as real,
Filled with the true spirits
Of all things;

The world we glimpse
But seldom see,
Cloaked as we are in shadow,
The trees, the grass,
The stones and everything,
Nothing was solid
Save Crazy Horse and his horse

Standing there as the world,
As his vision danced around them,
The warrior and the paint,
He who rode closest to the soldiers,
Urging his warriors on,
He who led the fight at Greasy Grass,
The bravest of them all,
Untouched by Yellow Hair's carbines.

At seven o'clock each night,
The Coast Guard flies overhead,
Patrolling the skies and alleyways
For scoundrels, scalliwags, and bad guys
Who have somewhat less than the best intentions;

I doubt they know we're here,
But you never know, do you,
And just when you think you're safe,
They try to pull you back in,

So you never can quite let your guard down,
Relax, and let the other guy worry
About the fate of the world and mankind
Or the safety of your family
-- Adults have little time for foolish dreams.

My people of the longhouse
Who gave me cheekbones,
Red flesh to mix with olive,
And a heritage more distant
Than my 400 year british ancestors
Or century old sicilians,
Lay my claim to this country
Ancient these fourteen millennia.
We are american, our blood has been shed,
Our lives have been given
So the people may exist unbound by time
To form this nation, one tribe,
One country until the rivers run dry,
Our aging red sun swallows the earth,
And all the stars and all the people
Are no more.

— Lisa Jain Thompson (February 2012)

Great grandma's background was hidden
When she passed from one long house
Into another more acceptably Quaker;
Blood and gene survived the conversion,
Confounding later generations
As the flesh gave lie to Englishness,
Tinging our skin with a tan more native
To our American heritage.

My ancestors first arrived on this continent
Nine thousand years before the Good Book
Seems to believe the world was created.
I've seen the bones, I've seen their dating,
I've read the theological convolutions
That are used to determine the age of the Earth:
I prefer to believe my eyes and education
Than anyone's well intentioned ill-conceived attempt
To superimpose ancient, tribal arithmetic
Upon the truly deep time of human existence.

The old year winds down to a handful of hours,
A still empty new year looms at midnight,
Timezones fall one after another,
Chasing the sunrise around and around.

I count the days, obituary by obituary,
Noting friends and entertainers,
The passing sports star and the occasional
Vague recollection long forgotten.

Without time, we are not,
Without life, time is without question,
But, without perception, would go unnoticed
Amid the wreak and rise of inevitable disorder.

The Power's out again,
In just our section of the development
Again,
The people down on the other end,
Apparently somewhat better than we are,
Seem to have all their lights on
Again,
They weren't affected,
So what's up with that?
Occupy that America.

Occupados

Cumma cumma cumma, cumma on down,
We can occupy old Washington town,
Cumma cumma cumma, cumma on down,
Rock a car, become a media star,
Getting a job is hard to do.

We can go to school,
Study beer and stuff,
Borrow all the money we need,
Demand our civil rights
Not to pay back a dime,
Getting a job is hard to do.

Move the money down dooby do,
Move the money down,
Move the money down dooby do,
Move the money down, move it down,
It's the only fair thing to do.

Gimme gimme gimme gimme on down,
Share your money gimme on down,
Gimme gimme gimme gimme on down,
It's the only fair thing to do,
Give it to me.