Larry's Poetry & Prose
Ancestral eyes looking down upon us from the
heavens as we imagine to traverse through the
times.
Universal stars gleaming ever so brightly as we
touch the land with our compassion.
Feelings and emotions engulfed in thoughts of life
for today and then tomorrow.
Hearts of flame,
Society’s shame. We are children of lost cultures and beliefs, no
teachings directed to preserve the past honors of
our peoples.
Tribal heritage lost in the four blowing winds, and
a people such as we wander an earth where
ancestral souls reach out to assist the journey of
love, life and death.
Ancient customs and beliefs put on the shelves of
the minds of elder’s, put there until such a time is
proper and just for the people.
Hearts of flame,
Society’s shame. Tree tops dancing in the winds, singing what
appears to be songs of reverence and vanity, and
man and woman bow with respect for such songs
fill every heart with fire.
With a world in turmoil and a people restless for
change, one wonder’s how such a stage can be so
filled with hatred, when man and woman find a
course of feelings where emotions controls the
respect of the souls
Hearts aflame,
Society’s shame. Darken eye’s upon the land,
searching for emotional strength,
Finding only those who use alcohol and drugs to
arouse false affection, providing spirits with a fake
passion.
Mind and physique abused by a fantasized dream
called love, and a heart becomes unimportant and
the trust for life blows away upon the winds of
yesterday.
Hearts of flame,
Society’s shame. Physique love,
drunken love,
drugged love,
do not fill the heart with truth,
can not fill the heart with reality,
for such love is nothing more than
Hearts of flame,
Society’s shame. Beyond the times of the morrow,
I will always embrace the isolation of my heart,
for in my serenity my values are honored with
respect and dignity,
unlike the celebrated jesters of
false love, emotion and respect,
for their honor is nothing more than
Hearts of flame,
Society’s shame! Thank you for visiting my page at Angelfire. Please come back and visit again! MIDI files by elan michaels - Spiritual Music of the World from ela... URL:http://www.angelfire.com/md/elanmichaels/MIDI.html
Poem Web sites
A Young Lady - Indian
Copyright © 2001 - Larry Kibby
Elko, Nevada
All Rights Reserved.
I am the native of myth and mystery
I am an extinct spirit of time.
Depleted space fills the mind.
No caring emotions within.
Soul lost upon the wind.
Heart is empty of fears.
Eyes have no tears.
Face without a reason.
Classified as an evil heathen.
I am just an illusion of history,
I am the native of myth and mystery.
Disbanded ambitions of affection,
Human value having no connection.
Pains of passion replaced with hate,
No obsession will be able to relate.
Shutting out reality and all devotion,
Closing the door of unity without a notion.
Eyes becoming black as night,
Perceiving only darkness and no light.
I am just an illusion of history,
I am the native of myth and mystery.
Tortured and torn gratification,
Exposed and frustrated glorification.
Justly thoughts compelled with iniquity
Lost reason to cherish inhumanity.
Finding no truth in actuality,
Vanishing hope for reality.
Releasing all bonds to justified friendships,
Canceling social and family relationships.
I am just an illusion of history,
I am the native of myth and mystery.
Forever chained to a barren solitude,
Opinion carrying a segregated attitude.
Accepting the actuality of loneliness,
Realizing the sensation of oneness.
Sending into flight the peaceful dove,
Turning with regret away from love.
Dominate feelings of dishonored sorrow.
Native children faced with an unsupported morrow.
I am just an illusion of history,
I am the native of myth and mystery.
Mysterious phantoms walk in stride
Dark shadows my justified guide.
Hostility genuinely replacing fondness
Sympathy set aside for bitterness
Harboring holocaust remorse,
Society on a prejudicial course.
Perfection stabbing natives in the back.
Sovereign Nations under severe attack.
I am just an illusion of history,
I am the native of myth and mystery.
No longer a value to human compassion,
Dispirited love having no mortal passion.
Emotional feelings tossed on the ground,
Sanctified reason thrown around.
Continuous chaotic lies and deceit.
Honest and truth victims of corrupt defeat
No vision of constitutional right,
Civil disorder tolerated without a fight.
I am just an illusion of history,
I am the native of myth and mystery.
Cultural honor stolen by New Age clowns,
Traditional sacred beliefs now all torn down.
Ancestral blood employed as a mockery and trick
Imps becoming instant Indian and making it stick.
Ancient ceremonies becoming a financial disgrace.
Religious values being unethically replaced.
Racism of a civilization instituted in place,
Bigotry idolized by a self-proclaimed master race.
I am just an illusion of history,
I am the native of myth and mystery.
Time immemorial ancestral land,
Sovereign Nations will take a stand.
For the injustice they will always fight,
To ensure the future of their children is right,
So listen one and all very well,
Of the words I have expressed here in detail,
The Sovereign Nations will never run or hide,
They will forever fight and walk side by side
So sincerely forever remember,
I am just an illusion of history,
I am the native of myth and mystery.
I am ancestral Native, Indian of the Sovereign Nation of the Wiyots of Northern California.
Written by: Larry Kibby, Elko, Nevada
Sunday, September 16, 2001
Copyright © 2001 - Larry Kibby
All Rights Reserved
A WHISPER IN THE WINDS
As I stand
In the circle of life,
I listen to the four winds;
From the East,
From the South,
From the West,
From the North,
And I hear
A whisper in the winds.
As I stand
In the circle of life,
I send my words
Upon the four winds,
To mother earth,
To father sun,
To all my relations,
And I hear
A whisper in the winds.
As I stand
In the circle of life,
I send my words
With pipe in hand
To be carried upon the smoke
To my grandfathers
And all my relations,
And I hear
A whisper in the winds.
As I stand
In the circle of life,
I send my words
For my heart soul and mind,
To be cleansed,
And with eagle wing in hand
The pipe close to my heart,
And
For all my people,
For all my relations,
I hear
A whisper on the winds!!
The Indian world will live!!!
Written: January 5, 1991
by: Larry Kibby
I am ancestral Indian
by Larry Kibby
In the death of an Indian there can be no grief,
For a people have betrayed their culture and belief,
Because of the material gain they did seek,
Compensation of greed they did reap,
Converting the culture and tradition,
Selling Mother country for a price and no condition,
And the ancestral blood upon the land
Darken the spirits of the Indian woman and man.
So hear my heartfelt words as I speak
For my people I ask of you not to weep.
Let no tears of sorrow fall to your feet,
For in the heart, soul and mind
I am the apparition of time,
An hereditary blood of my own kind,
I am ancestral Indian, I live to die for my people!
In the death of an Indian there can be no grief,
For a people have betrayed their culture and belief,
Surviving in a drug and alcoholic trance,
The children of the future not given a last chance,
Father’s and mother’s moaning nightly,
Ceremonial death bundles assembled rightly,
Religious sun, moon and stars,
Replaced with coffins of extinction and incarcerated bars.
So hear my heartfelt words as I speak
For my people I ask of you not to weep.
Let no tears of sorrow fall to your feet,
For in the heart, soul and mind
I am the apparition of time,
An hereditary blood of my own kind.
I am ancestral Indian, I live to die for my people!
In the death of an Indian there can be no grief,
For a people have betrayed their culture and belief,
With spouses, children, and babies victims of violent abuse,
Females becoming tools and toys of sexual misuse.
Youth accepting obscene and lewd romances
Society substituting cultural respect with corrupt rap and erotic dances,
The masses lying, cheating and deceiving truth and devotion,
God-fearing people pretending to care without any notion.
So hear my heartfelt words as I speak
For my people I ask of you not to weep.
Let no tears of sorrow fall to your feet,
For in the heart, soul and mind
I am the apparition of time,
An hereditary blood of my own kind.
I am ancestral Indian, I live to die for my people!
In the death of an Indian there can be no grief,
For a people have betrayed their culture and belief,
America waving a flag of justice over a poverty stricken reservation,
And the non-Indian hired to teach an inglorious education,
History pages saturated with ridicule about an annihilation,
A government continues its policy of heartless extermination,
Illegal tribal councils fighting and bickering day and night
All the while their people struggling to make life right.
So hear my heartfelt words as I speak
For my people I ask of you not to weep.
Let no tears of sorrow fall to your feet,
For in the heart, soul and mind
I am the apparition of time,
An hereditary blood of my own kind.
I am ancestral Indian, I live to die for my people!
In the death of an Indian there can be no grief,
For a people have betrayed their culture and belief,
As I stand upon the isolated land,
With eagle wing in a ritualistic hand,
I feel the lonely and dishearten commotion
That deeply engulfs and saddens my emotions
As I watch my people slowly fade into the morrow
And my heart increases with hate and sorrow,
For my ancestors shall cry,
When I let my spirit fly,
To leave the non-Indian world far behind,
For I am and always will be the Warrior of yesterdays time.
So hear my heartfelt words as I speak
For my people I ask of you not to weep.
Let no tears of sorrow fall to your feet,
For in the heart, soul and mind
I am the apparition of time,
An hereditary blood of my own kind.
I am ancestral Indian, I live to die for my people!
Written by: Larry Kibby
Copyright © 2001 - Larry Kibby
Elko, Nevada
All Rights Reserved
And I Would wonder
And the creation of life came to stand,
A living breathing matter from the land.
As I stirred the red dust into mud
Like my ancestors before me.
An origination of the blood
I would see.
And I would wonder.
Weeping water from the sky,
Falls gently into the creations eye.
Rolling clouds, lighting and thunder
Brush the life with reason of wonder,
I am of the blood!
Hollered the human being.
Yes, creation of red dust and mud,
I would see.
And I would wonder.
An aged eagle flew down,
Landing nearby on the ground.
He said, "I have watched you from the start,"
"Know that your being shall have a heart."
With that the eagles spirit journeyed on,
And the creation and eagles heart became one.
I would see.
And I would wonder.
Buffalo, elk, antelope, coyote, wolf and deer,
The wildlife came from far and near,
For each would give from their self a living part
That would help form this creation from the start.
And the people gathered around the creation and me,
They and I would see,
The Indian World living forever
And I will always wonder,
How it is today, so many who aren’t claim to be?
Copyright © 2001 - Larry Kibby
Elko, Nevada
All Rights Reserved
View My Guestbook
Sign My Guestbook
Click here to go to the next Poem & Prose Page
Clik here to go to Page 2 of the Poem & Prose
Click here to return to index page
James W. Hoddinott
Sondra's - Home Web Page
Sondra's - Autumn Leaves