Love Poems About Native American or Native American Love Poems

Native American love poems and/or love poems about Native American. Read, share, and enjoy these Native American love poems! Also, try our sister website's powerful search engine for poems.

Poem Details | by Heather Hill |
Categories: adventure, art, black african american, fantasy, girlfriend-boyfriend, husband, imagination, love, native american, nature, passion, romance, song-teen, visionaryme, me,

Jungle Love

Your sweet nectar
wraps around my senses
like jungle vines
steady drums beating
Your heart near mine

Your strong hands
hold me suspended
by my waist
Just enough pain and strength
against my supple skin
For my taste

The musk of your
sculpted body and the forest
has me going wild
But yet, the tender way you
protect me, reminds me of
Being a child

A safe familiarity
with a strain of animalistic
Your invisible hold over me
leaves me arrow poisoned
Unable to function

My long dark hair wraps you
with smells of coconut and ocean Sun
your locks full of mud and enemies
together, my warrior
We make One

Poem Details | by Danielle Wise Baxter |
Categories: faith, family, friendship, love, native american, nature, nostalgia, political, religion, old, old,

Two Old Friends

Dusty roads and fresh grass
summertime rodeos approaching fast
riding with a friend down on sandbars 

A piece of hay hanging out of his mouth
though some trapped water, out the other side
I had forgotten this wonderful life

I still see some twenty year old boy helping me up
now a sixty year old man rides in front
pointing all the changes in the last five years

I could not believe what time I lost
4 am to a cowboy is not early enough
my pants soaking wet my boots fixed

We rode on down to his dads favorite spot
to meet God when the sun comes up
we turned to face it and did not say a word

God's spirit was the only thing we heard
as earth to air, and water to fire, met in the sky
right there two old friends prayed to God


Poem Details | by Louise Riveiro - Mitchell |
Categories: imagination, life, lost love, native american, sad, me,

A Love That Can Never Be

                    You stand before me proud and free
	At first I thought you were a fantasy.
	You're smile, your touch so real to me
	I need to know what you want of me.
	I try to understand
	Why you have come to this strange new land
	So out of place in this land today
	Yet I want you so to stay
	I feel you are a part of me
	I feel I need you here and you need me
	I hope and pray I can find a way
	To make you stay here in present day
	My brave warrior proud and free
	Take my hand and stay with me
	Together a whole new world we will see
	Let me give my heart and soul to thee
	But alas you are just a fantasy
	And a love that can never be

Poem Details | by Louise Riveiro - Mitchell |
Categories: devotion, hope, imagination, life, love, native american, passion, me, me,

Can You Hear Me

Can you hear me calling you
  Don't you feel how much I need you
  Across the mountains and streams
  I whisper your name
  I call out to you in my dreams
  And there you came
  You'd take me hand so tenderly
  And promise never to leave me
  You'd speak to me such words of love
  And swear your love to me to the spirits above

Poem Details | by Jonathan Parrish |
Categories: hope, life, love, native american, passion, people, places,

Indian Tales

When night settled down
Pow-wows rose to a climax
Giving the world joy

Poem Details | by Berteena Harmony Of The Soul |
Categories: bereavement, cancer, grief, loss, lost love, native american, tribute,


knew a Tiger
who swam with dolphins
along the razor’s edge

meditated with a yellow bird
under his honey’s tree
in a west coast garden.

rare breed
from an indigenous

poetic wisdom
written with

sung his songs
in syllables:
5-7-5 and 5-7-5-7-7.

beloved’s last kiss
left him fragrant roses
when she crossed over.

did our

beads, sky lanterns,
and a beautiful

he crying with Coyotes
to the moon or on
heaven’s Windswept Shore?

knew a Tiger
who walked
with the wind.

by Berteena
Harmony of the Soul
PoetrySoup Poem of the Day - January 29, 2019

Poem Details | by Johnette Loefgren |
Categories: lost love, mystery, native american, lost, dark, dark, lost,

a Spirit in Time

   The drums ,
the drums 
   You hear the drums
you more than feel their beat.
they taunt you with the past somehow
you know it in your feet.

you see yourself around the fire
dancing 'neath the moon 
who you were and who you are
and who you will be soon.

The smoke,the mist the burning flame
how does the rhythm know your name?
you must go back from whence you came
back to that dark lagoon

Back to the flicker in the light
the instant that must be set right
she's waiting there for you tonight
beside the dark lagoon.

to resurrect a love gone by
the year too soon for you to  fly ,
the spirits gave you one more try
to find the Lost Lagoon.

You travel time to find the place
where you can see your lover's face
your memory has  found the trace,
back to the Lost Lagoon

Poem Details | by Johnette Loefgren |
Categories: native american, love, me,

The Stream of Tears

Prisms breaking on the water
rainbows falling through the pines
early morning on the river
skimming light as feathers
in the white canoe....

  In the bow
you breathe the daybreak
Raven hair flys out behind you
here where only love can find you
in the white canoe

Fast the feathers,flowers,flowing
on beside us
through the glowing
lead us on to where we're going
in the white canoe

past the places of the otters
fingers trailing in the waters
faces of our sons and daughters
in the white canoe

as my dream of love grows dimmer
you turn to me and I remember
what you said in dark December
in the white canoe

"I must ever travel on
through these mountains
all alone
until the time that you come home
in the white canoe".

"See me now as I'm before you,
though I leave you,
I adore you,
I'll be always waiting for you,
in the white canoe"

Somewhere on this Stream of Tears
you are waiting through 
the years
but in these dreams
you're always here,
in the white canoe.

Poem Details | by Ken Carroll |
Categories: inspiration, love, native american,

Native American Love Poem

I walk to you
softly upon this earth
among things great and small
remembering one great Spirit
created us all...

You walk in beauty
my eyes always seeking
the red and purple sunset
beholding in your eyes
pastel and calico I can't forget...

I dance for you at dawn
upon our bed of evening light
riding on a dark cloud
praying for your female rain
in a house of pollen I chant out loud...

Hey yaw, hey yaw

In my house of evening twilight
in our dreams made of dark clouds
you in your moccasins of dark clouds
dance your way to me
as you chant for me out loud...

Hey yaw, hey yaw...

Poem Details | by Shanity Rain |
Categories: addiction, autumn, beautiful, beauty, best friend, brother, cat, celebration, change, childhood, christmas, cousin, dad, dog, fishing, food, football, grandparents, grief, halloween, happiness, heart, hero, holiday, home, life, little sister, love, mom, mother, music, native american, sister, write,

Family Grief Family Happiness

   Have you ever written anything without sub combing to tears ?
    My Family portrait in my mind , 2 older sisters , 2 brothers
        My Mother caring about all five in different ways
      Just with Mom & Dad there having the best of Holidays 
     My sisters laying out on the deck of river bank for 4th of July ~
      Listening to " Honkey Chateau " and all by Elton John
       music  a great memory ~Disco , Donna summer , Grease ~ Jaws !

     Dad's records to Tony Bennett , Hank W Sr, Count Basie & Louis Armstrong.
          The music  takes me home in a wagon filled with children and a dog "Lucky "    
      My Older brother , athletic , always fishing & hunting.
                 My younger , my Rock , Swimming and netting for fish,
        feeding our Fat cat Perch off the rocks patiently awaits her food               
       the yelling , slamming of doors ,  tempers Flare , passion 
         Our Parents , passionate love yet passionate Hate
        After being a Family of Seven , Divorcing their fate.
         Why did that show " Dallas " bring out the Divorce in all ?

       Scottish ~ Irish ~ French Iroquois ~ Cherokee  
                 No matter what the mix.Our curse Alcohol ~
          the  Screaming , Drinking , this memory I wish to shut the door on  
        Going to A & W or making Cheerleading ,The Bears of course~
             Excited in Chicago !  seeing Elton John in the Summer of 1976 ~
        Cubs ,  museum of Wax , Museum of science & History , Pizza !
       Expeditions of discovery ,little brother & I finding arrowheads on the Shore.
             Our Grandparents Faithful Celebrations ! Chiffon cake , Apple strudel `  
        Our Cousins on Holidays , going for ice cream cones , 
          scent of wet rain on oak leaves ~Before Halloween was bought in stores.
           ~ That is the Family I Love ,
                     that is the Family I choose to miss ~    

Poem Details | by Tracie Edwards |
Categories: native american, life, joy, life, love, magic, may,

Hummingbird - Joy

Hummingbird.. Hummingbird with light brimming Sing a song to awaken flowers that are hiding On the gentle breezes I see you riding Peace to all you bring As if by magic you hover in time The divine quiet of your wings drumming You remind us to be still but never rigid Sending us love to open our hearts Softly you plant a seed in our doubts When the seed begins to bud One by one our doubts fall away All pain dimming Resolving lifes contradictions Imbuing our world with every colour of the rainbow Filling our souls with joy Soothing heart and mind Never wanting to be caged To always fly free Teaching us to live in harmony ~*~
=========================================== Inspired by Debbie Guzzi's newest blogs.. I like Hummingbird because of their magical qualities, Hummingbird feathers have long been used for the making of love charmsIt is said that Hummingbird conjures love as no other medicine does, and that Hummingbird feathers open the heartWithout an open and loving heart, you can never taste the nectar and pure bliss of lifeTo Hummingbird, life is a wonderland of delight! If Hummingbird is your personal medicine, you love life and its joysYour presence brings joy to othersYou join people together in relationships which bring out the best in themYou know instinctively where beauty abides and, near or far, you journey to your idealYou move comfortably within a beautiful environment and help others to taste the succulent nectar of life. If Hummingbird has flown into your life today, get ready to laugh and enjoy the Creator's many giftsDrop your judgmental attitudes and relaxHummingbird will no doubt give you a flash of the spirit, darting here, there, and everywhereGet ready for a strange new burst of energy which may send your senses reeling. Hummingbird hears celestial music and is in harmony with itHummingbird may invite you to an art museum or a concertFollow Hummingbird and you will soon be filled with joy and experience a renewal of the magic of living!

Poem Details | by Jacqueline R. Mendoza |
Categories: angel, beautiful, beauty, black african american, bridal shower, caregiving, celebrity, childhood, christian, cousin, daughter, death of a friend, devotion, education, environment, father daughter, first love, flower, children, for her, kids, how i feel, little sister, me, mom, mother, native american, nostalgia, people, poets, school, spiritual, student, woman, women, work,

Qualities of Health Engendering Women

They see strengths
Not the limitations
These are people who will make you proud of yourself
They will tell you why you’re special
Trust you to the point you have to answer their expectations
They make you better than you normally are
You can be proud of yourself
They respect you 
For what you’ve done
Where you’ve come from
They see what you’ve experienced something real
Respect you for your courage
They live by their rules
They do not expect you to follow theirs
They are at peace to themselves
They are not proving anything to you
They are good listeners
Sincere in their interest in you
You feel important
They are available for honest
Genuine discussion
Makes you want to share yourself

Poem Details | by Shanity Rain |
Categories: absence, america, art, books, business, celebration, celebrity, christmas, city, culture, dedication, depression, family, farewell, farm, feelings, film, freedom, goodbye, growing up, history, home, house, i love you, image, life, lost, money, music, native american, new york, paradise, patriotic, people, places, political, pride, today, tribute, truth, usa, world,

young American days

                   To be in a young America ~
           visions of a ship upcoming statue of Liberty
               the young lad holding tightly to his Mothers leg
             in all excitement of a new Land to call their own
      celebrations of apple pie and fireworks on the 4th of July 
             thoughts of the old Hollywood on screen 
                films without 3-D costing less then a dollar
        Greta , Monroe , Betty Davis eyes tantalizing blue glare
       The Wizard of Oz or books written by Steinbach, Capote, Mark Twain

             exciting new visions of creating new concepts 
                 before Capitalism bought all little ones to bigger
           songs came from the hills of Virginia to the black Mountains
               surfacing in Tennessee for all to hear and wish to see  

          The day when one travelled by car on the road travelled
             every town a story told , learning history we once shed blood 
         American Indian tears to the British man whom choose freedom of taxes
            Boston held a tea party , now wishing they threw out marmite instead
         The day when we knew our neighbors and bought homes with a paystub
             Everyone had a chance to make their own with pride , even through wars
        When Martin Luther King stood proudly as did President Lincoln for Freedom 
             How many streets have been named after the man whom had a dream ?

             When milk was delivered on doorsteps in Glass bottles 
                 Babies wanting the very first of the top being cream 
             leaving doors open , watching news with your family at 6pm
                cartoons were shut down and it was now grown up time 

                      Cereal being a cheap snack for after school 
                         school supplies costing twenty dollars 
                      Grandma school clothes shopping for fifty 
                   before the internet , cell phones , and text for hello ~

                         2 week Vacations not afraid to put up Camp 
                Christmas sold in December with the sentiment of Love not money
        a day when if one were sick , you could actually get penicillin without question 
         The Doctor treated everything calling it General Practice no fear of Malpractice 

               Never forgetting our Motor city  
                 Old Ford Trucks Chevrolets and Dodge
                  The city that brought Ottis Reding and Marvin Gaye 

                     What happened to us ?  Where did America Go ? 



Poem Details | by Pamela Davison |
Categories: caregiving, faith, imagination, love, mystery, native american, philosophy, longing, moon,

Grandmother Moon

Grandmother Moon cherishes me, 
kisses my forehead with her light
She reigns supreme over her kingdom, 
smiling down upon this humble spirit

I whisper to her of my dreams, hopes 
prevailing in spite of the odds
A tear forms in the corner of my eye 
as I challenge her to answer my prayers

I extend my hand, longing to touch her, 
to soak up her ancient wisdom and beauty
I can feel her gentle smile, she embraces me, 
bringing me comfort, her radiance guiding

She has been witness to the cruelties 
of man, more than I could ever imagine
Broken dreams scattered into the night 
her children gather around her, wink at me

Nissa, Nissa, I cry out to herIs all lost? 
Is there no more hope for my people? 
A voice softly answers in my mind, 
there is always a glimmer of hope

Grandmother Moon watches over me, 
ruling the tides of my heart, my spirit
She is listening to me, tasting my tears, 
caressing the delicate tendrils of my soul.

Poem Details | by Nya Johnson |
Categories: baby, beauty, black african american, boyfriend, child, christian, dad, daughter, death, depression, education, family, freedom, girl, health, life, lonely, lost love, love, mother daughter, native american, relationship, romance, romantic, school, seasons, sorrow, stress, work, day, grandmother, light, community, day, light, love, rose,

In My Community

Our Ancestors fought to the death,
Just so we can live a brighter day,
So before you light up that blunt of meth,
Think about what you’re giving away,
It was a glad day in history when Obama rose to victory,
The first black president was all we knew,
Dark skin is in!
Haven’t you heard?
That even in our community, 
You can get burned,
It’s a sad day when people would rather stay home and “Crank That Amber Cole”,
Than get up and run to a poll,
In our community,
Rockin’ Luis V is better than having a college degree,
And teen pregnancy is not only a trend,
But the single motherhood that follows should end,
Young girls learn of a wonderful prince to take them away,
Nothing should change thought their mothers prince didn’t stay,
And as the tears fade away,
She grows stronger every day,
In our community,
Fighting is no longer a word,
You argue with someone and shots are heard,
Girls showing places the sun don’t show,
So how do they expect the community to grow?
Where love is a figment of imagination,
Making a young child question her creation,
Young mothers would rather buy the iPhone 5,
Then satisfy her baby’s cries,
While her new man’s eye,
Wander up another girl’s thighs,
In our community,
Where #team dark skin vs #team light skin,
Makes others not love the skin they’re in,
Love, lust, hate, and trust,
Giving a rose on Valentine’s Day is no longer a must, 
Where bad is good and good is bad,
Who would think to see their grandmother sad?
Her hurt and pain,
Shows how our community has lost everything her parents fought to gain.

Poem Details | by Danielle Wise Baxter |
Categories: children, happiness, love, native american, uplifting, visionary, god, god, red, silver,

Silver Pony Rides

Dry up those eyes my little red rooster,
remember to strut your stuff.
See that silver pony in the clouds
well God put him there for us.
That pony is not like the ones down here,
he was made individually, for us too.

So smile, when they say hateful things,
then say, that's the way God wanted me to be
One day things will be clear,
it will be hard for you,
but you climb to the sky.
Jump on that silver pony, let’s show them how to ride.

Take your time, you have the rest of your life,
my little red rooster.
Someone will see you,
and float on those clouds
riding a silver pony just they and you,
he will be a special guy.
No, it's not fair, you don't fit in anywhere.
Take pride in others, and love will apply.

As hard as it is for you
look to your family,
we are part of eagles flying high.
Be the spunky little girl you don’t think they like,
and show them your temperance
in little cowgirl Cherokee pride                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                       Keep your eyes on the clouds waiting for a sign    
great things are worth the wait,                                                                                 
and come in dear time                                                                             
Things are never what they seem to be,
what you think is a diamond may be only the rough.
As with finding your diamond is made of dust.
Look for a silver lining.
Love the earth and follow the clouds,
know what to keep and what to throw out.

Poem Details | by Darlene Smith |
Categories: betrayal, love hurts, native american, pride, trust,

Lone Wolf

It must have been a difficult journey;
The path your life has taken;
To make you not trust another;
And left you feeling forsaken.

In bitterness and anger;
For past wrongs and betrayals;
You keep a safe distance;
So if approached you would avail.

The wound inside your spirit;
That mistrust will not allow to heal.
Is compensated with fears and doubts;
And prevents your heart to feel.

For you vowed that you would never;
Get close to anyone again.
For a heart that has been broken;
You spend your life in defense.

Lone wolf is what you are;
destined to be alone;
Fearing love and intimacy;
Making nowhere your home.

The only one you truly punish;
For the hurt you feel inside.
Is the wolf who shies from happiness;
Because of a wounded pride.

~ Darlene Doll Smith

Poem Details | by Danielle Wise Baxter |
Categories: devotion, faith, forgiveness, friendship, happiness, hope, love, mystery, native american, nature, day, lost, prayer, day, garden, lost, me,

To Wither and Die Not

Peace surrounds me on this day in May as I let destiny have it's own way I smile down on whom I am made grandly by all my yesterdays I will live again and all my hopes and dreams shall not shatter I am destiny's lost prodigal child, May has been a source of pain for me Seeming to harm me with it's innocent days hidden in coy smiles, yes it lied many times but not today, the day after yesterday beginning all my tomorrows We can not always live in the growing fields of flowers picking them and hanging them up to dry somehow in making something beautiful we forgot them and they did not dry, yet died We can not always hold onto our flowers some do not fare well to the process of living dry so today is not tomorrow nor yesterday but it will always be lost amongst some field of flowers No garden to train, yet sheer joy in what is natural for miles as far as the eye can see it is spring and I pat my body down, I lived through the night yes, I am alive, and did not die, as they live their destiny Yet, my flowers have no scent, and not many want them , but what glory can be found in the ordinary flower? the garden of no surprise with many needs to thrive, none, for there is nothing grander than a flower growing in fields wild Next year, it will spread it's seeds in the wind and prosper so much grander it will be each year there after, yes, growing wilder and my prayer is no one will cut them down or poison them ever-after yet someone will love the flowers growing wild tomorrow and the day after May they become a heart's desire, and glory will forever remain in those alive, and wild but never dried, or tamed, for how can we say nice things about something, we set aside to wither and die, in shame and pain, that should always be allowed to grow wilder, to wither and die not tomorrow or the day after
will edit when I get back homeSORRY GUYS!

Poem Details | by Danielle Wise Baxter |
Categories: devotion, lost love, love, native american, night, lost, lost, night,

Two Lonesome Doves

Just two lonesome doves lost in a field full of grain
if one flies one way the other will be lost in the wind
oh, but how those doves wanted to be free but were so scared 
holding onto each other until the bitter end

Just a little longer they thought, and we will be okay
no one cared what happened to them in those days
when one cried out the other one fell to the ground
it seemed no one could see what their needs truly were

So they thought it best to relocate them to a better place
have you ever seen doves cry as they hold onto a strange life
their hearts still beat the same, but now they knew what lonesome meant
and night after night they untucked their weary heads looking to the stars

Two lonesome doves dreamed of how things should be
softly they cooed the others name alone in the dark
oh, but the price of the cost to be free was ever-so great
don't ever think one doesn't share the pain the other feels

That field full of grain felt like nothing without the one that they loved
lonesome dove coos go out each night praying the other will fly to them
lost in the wind they have to be, doves have a forever kind of love
until that day, we all watch the tragedy when two doves cry

Inspired by:

Ray Lamontagne Let it be me Lyrics 

Oh no she is in her mp3, help us Lord! lol 

Poem Details | by Danielle Wise Baxter |
Categories: dedication, faith, lost love, native american, nostalgia, peace, visionary, me,

Deep Waters

Knowing defeat I now softly sleep my arms are lighter and feet do not tread deep waters My brain rest from spirits for the time being I do not fight that loss of control and shut my eyes and no man nor beast removes me from who I am I close the gates to my home away from all this life I have reclaimed to be solely mine walking a closer walk with God and his Son I mend my circles and close off my heart from the world peace showers down upon my head I will remember the dead the sacrifices they made for me to live and softly cry all alone

Poem Details | by Eire Toyekoyah |
Categories: baby, feelings, love, native american,

My little star


Poem Details | by Darlene Smith |
Categories: appreciation, friendship, love, native american, romance,

I Tell You Now

If there be a day,
When I do not call your name.
Know that I care,
My feelings are the same.
If there be a time,
That I do not sing.
Know that I appreciate,
All the joys you bring.
If there is a moment,
When I glance away.
Know that it is only,
because I wish you to stay.
If my pride keeps me,
From telling you so.
I tell you now,
So you will always know.

Darlene Doll Smith

Poem Details | by Louise Riveiro - Mitchell |
Categories: life, love, native american, little sister,

My Little Sister

My little sister so wild and free
Always walking ahead of me
Never afraid to take any test
Papa’s pride, his little princess
You loved a brave as wild as you
And to this day you still do
But there was another who loved you so
And he stepped aside and let you go
You never looked back to see
Another loved him it was me
And now after all this time
The wolf has his doe
And the hawk is mine

Poem Details | by anne p. murray |
Categories: death, devotion, happiness, life, love, native american, passion, peace, romance, uplifting, love, moon, i love you,

I Shall Wait For You My Beloved

I shall wait for you to come my beloved
For you are my white star of twilight
The moon in the sky’s far end

I shall rise up with thee
Lie down with thee
For in my dreams thou art always with me

Oh Great Spirit
When our time has come
Join us together as one in the wilderness of your sacred home
When you look upon us give us your peace and refreshing sleep

For you and I my beloved, are two halves joined together
Each others distant shore
The left and right wings of the bird
Two halves of a seashell

We are apart, yet connected by a greater love
I shall wait for you my love 

The sun and moon bless the union of our spirits
Designed by our Creator for life’s endless journey
Joined like a tree to earth, a cloud in the sky
You are a part of me, as I am of you
Bonded by the Great White Spirit

You are my love, my heart’s best  friend
Our love will never cease, never end
I know it is thou who moves within my heart
Now and forever my beloved - I shall wait for you to come
Ayor’ Anosh’ ni’ my love

"Ayor’ Anosh’ ni’ means I love you in Navajo"

Poem Details | by Shanity Rain |
Categories: august, baseball, beautiful, bird, blue, children, creation, earth, eve, first love, imagination, inspirational, native american,

This Blue Moon

This Blue Moon..
This moon is hypnotizing , this moon knows all Truth and lies

it is a rare moon and filled with questions asked 
luminous clouds weaving through , knowing all through existence

showing me there is yet true love in the mist

who else has been captured by the Magic that surrounds this Blue Moon tonight ~
pure  light and magic that pulls on your soul , instinctively,  when called you will go
with all senses enhanced, romancing you 
 all that you know

it controls the waters at Sea, as though it instructs all sea life
speaking to the dolphins' and lighting the oceans glow 

telling the night owl too take flight and hunt ~ 
showing a white Owl for the first time seen

this moon is speaking , listening to all prayers 
there is more around us, more then the finest of wise Men know

Look at this moon tonight 
Tell me now what the truth is 
This Blue knows.

Poem Details | by Travis Lone Hill |
Categories: dedication, depression, family, growing up, native american, on writing and words, song-wife, people, love, people, time, i love you,

I know I can Be a Bad Man

Yeah I know I can be a bad man
But I just want people to understand
I do what I must, I do only what one can

I think about life, I think about my everyday strifes
I know I love you girl you the mama of my children
You already like my wife
I know I have cheated from time to time 
but you the only one who I sleep with at the end of another long night

Yeah I know I can be a bad man
But I just want people to understand
I do what I must, I do only what one can

I know I like to drink yet it feels like I love that alcohol
This liqour and beer is my number one downfall
If it werent so then the crazy *****in my life now I would have never saw
I would have never ended up sitting in prison for breaking the law

Yeah I know I can be a bad man
But I just want people to understand
I do what I must, I do only what one can

It's alright now though because Im back in school
I know I struggle at times but Im reframing from being another lost fool
I know it bull-*****even though many youngsters think that *****is cool
But they don't know if they been where I been and still want to do what I do

Poem Details | by Dear Heart |
Categories: hair, love, native american,

A dream comes floating

^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ We are at the junction of the Little River and the Ottawa River, journeying into the Canadian wilderness by canoe, the paddles stroke slowly into the water, paddles heavily incised with vines and flowers, and I am dipping my hair into the deep blue. Spirit, is a native man in a crisp white shirt, his head shaved but for one braid with feathers, his blue leggings enthrall me, intricate beaded moccasins are sublime, his leather pouch and glass jewelry lovely, I think I love him Falcon, a beautiful man with raven hair falling down his back, his feathers are fluttering in the wind, he has dangling earings, a red cape edged with gold threads, his beads are exquisite, and he is telling me stories and smiling at me I could love him, and I am dipping my hair into the deep blue. O, how can this Ojibwa girl choose, I love them both I truly do, but luckily for me this is a dream and I can love both. ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ _____________________ December 10, 2012 Verse/A dream comes floating Copyright Protected, ID 441915

Poem Details | by Lucinda Bulger |
Categories: devotion, love, native american, nature,

sun and sky

sun and sky shine one
tears I cry joy embracing
gently caressing

Poem Details | by Scribbler Of Verses |
Categories: allegory, angst, black african american, business, courage, freedom, history, holocaust, home, hope, introspection, journey, life, lonely, loss, lost, lost love, love, memory, metaphor, miracle, native american, pain, passion, peace, people, political, relationship, romance, romantic, satire, social, thank you, time, tree, tribute, war, woman, women, work, tree, freedom, may, tree,

The Petty Posh-WahZee - Liberation and Ostentation

The Petty Posh-Wahzee - Liberation & Ostentation

The Not-So Distant Past:

The fallen fighters for freedom, are unable to turn in their graves,
their battered, fragmented bones, mixed with a handful of torn rags,
are all that remain, a mute reminder of their selfless valiant sacrifice.

They endured brutal Apartheid harassment, detentions without trial,
torture in the cells, and mental anguish when loved ones disappeared,
they left their homeland, to continue the struggle against racial bigotry,
while countless others fought the scourge of white-minority rule at home.

Nelson Mandela and many, many others, spent their lives imprisoned,
on islands of stone, and on islands of the cruellest torture, yet they stood,
never bowing, never scraping, they stood, firm for ideals for which they were prepared to die,

and many, many comrades did die, at the hands of the callous oppressor,
and many, many comrades perished in distant lands, torn from their homes,
while the struggle continued, for decades, soaked in blood, in tears, in pain.

The Present:

19 years have passed, since freedom was secured at the highest of prices,
delivering unto us, this present, a gift of emancipation from servitude,

a freedom to walk this land, head held high, no longer second-class citizens,
in the land of our ancestors, whose voices we hear and need to heed today.

I do not care much for fashion, Lewis-Fit-On and Sleeves unSt.-Moron,
yet the ostentation that I witness baffles even my unsophisticated palate,

our ancestors' plaintive whispers are being dismissed, left unheeded, as
we browse the aisles for more and more, always for more and yet more.

Asphyxiated by the excess of the Petty Posh-Wahzee, we find ourselves,
perched precariously on the edge, of a dissolution of all that is humane,

babies go hungry, wives are battered, our elders left in hospitals for hours,
I cringe as I scribble these words, perhaps too sanctimonious and preachy,

yet I know, deep in the marrow of my brittle bones, I know, I know, I know,
this tree of freedom planted by the nameless daughters and sons of Africa,

needs to be shielded, nurtured, protected from our very own baser impulses,
so that the precious tree of freedom, may bear the fruit that may feed us all,

for if not, then we are doomed, to tip over, and into the yawning abyss, we shall fall.

Poem Details | by Kristin Reynolds |
Categories: love, native american, nature, peace, places

The Sound of the Prairies

wheat at its finest.
      long before the cut of blade
and grinding of teeth –

it sings through clear wind –
      rolling waves, soft in their hush
raising old ones souls,

ingraining lifetimes
     upon the wanderer’s skin –
raising hairs on necks –

recognizing sound
      as it is meant to be heard –
wheat is heeded wind.

always, wheat whispers   
     hush…(the heart of prairie grass)
through the mouth of wind