Red man walks to the beat of a drum
that goes way past yester-morning
Holds the key of life in his hands
but hardly anyone is noticing
I can see far beyond these projects
I can hear the Red man calling
Deferred dreams all over the ground
but I’m steady meditating
Just like a native man,
I give my prayers to the sun
Give thanks for my visions
and I bring love back around
Red man lives by the light in his eyes
he’s a child of the mountains
Liquor stores stay open late in the night
like me, he’s on a reservation
Govament cheese or gambling for loot
and still, no reparations
Drive-by shootings just a way of life
but I’m steady calling on my guides
Just like a native man,
I throw my hands up to the sky
Give my prayers to the sun
and I bring love back around
Sometimes I don't like my own tribe
Lose my sense of direction
I pour my libations
And bring love back around.
I like the desert; not the poor ghettos Native Americans were forced into, but I like the way dried up trees turn their contortions into art.
The West Rim
Amazing's not the word. Some people say they feel a certain pull to jump over if they stand close enough to see below. I'm not gonna front. I kinda felt it too. People have fallen off, by the way; and Canyon officials are proud of the fact that "we were able to find all the bodies"!
In and from the Hopi Tower
Bell Rock Mountain, though the original people probably call it what it should be called-- Red Mountain
Bringing back with me some of that red earth to remind me of what I walked on, climbed and meditated over...
And I like cacti; the way they take your mind off the concrete jungle and keep you centered and your smiling.
Where all points meet...
It's important to travel beyond your place of familiar, and abroad if you got it like that, so that your definition of the world and of your self isn't limited to hype and false expectations.
No comments:
Post a Comment