Category Archives: Political

To Be Sold (day 2103)

I laid there bleeding cold
Everything I had not seen
Now coming to my mind
Eyes fading to clean
Void and his sister: darkness
Sources of all I forgot
Laid here by a pistol
Made elaborately to be sold
In a house where everything
Is made to be seen
And there I lay motionless
No less then ever
Missing from the scene.

Burning Star (day 2102)

Lucifer has finally come to me:
Rocketships still burning fuel so fast
Emptiness everywhere is filling up
All around I feel the burning sun
In my mind it is just like a star
To which I feel consumption in my bones
it is wild and threatening here
Dancing madmen with twice bigger guns
Adam’s father and his henchmen all around
My feet can never leave a solid rock.
Lucifer has finally come to me.

Abandon (day 2091)

This is our violence
Shatter brackets ripping through
Cleanly pressed materialism
A bomb drops
And two children cry
One for mother sky
Two for dust around
Tie a rock to the bottom of our soul
While tulips begin to grow
Above rusting piles
Of violent ricochet
Splinters of what should have done
But left walking alone
Through feral fields
An effort spent
Into misuse and abandon
Which we voted for
And raised flags proudly.

Purple Pants are Right (day 2066)

My purple pants have begun to stretch
Into what is now a rich, royal blue
My teeth, they chatter back and forth
But in this wisdom: nothing more
I propose to block these three freedoms
For they each halt my ability to capitalize
On what has always been naturally me
Now I shall usurp liberty
A statue shall fall to build a wall
And my money God, you shall learn to serve
Until too late, for the end is near
Though I shall not call all so dear
This is a game, rags and all
For my warriors shall build as I say
And my plans will overthrow each day
I will make all Right again
I will make all Great again.

No More Trees, Money’s For Me (day 2064)

It’s ok that we cut down these trees for warmth
Let’s not get upset about our mountain
Turned crater, shipped to the moon,
Our water is a good memory, a clean memory
A clean memory for my dry lips
Afraid of this purple water
Maybe my dinosaur bones will take me home
To a land full of ten year old trees
Where water flushes the land clean
No more dirty top soil: eroded,
Home where the magical golden clouds
Hover just above the skyline, stinking
And water is just slightly brown
Mycelia? No, my bill fold needs more dinosaur bones
To sink into these fresh water lakes
Chopsticks, chopsticks, chopsticks trees
Get these poles off to the mill
Down that road of rubber and oil
More dinosaur bones and I’m ready to kill
Floating at 70 miles an hour
In plastic rocket ships, towing plastic bricks
And you there, strange looking person
How many toes do you have? You’re not one of us
Your skin is funny and your smell’s different
Let me see your papers that say many things
I don’t believe you can grow your beans here
See, my dead trees and stretched metal rings
Say: ‘NO TRESPASSING’
Get out, leave us alone
You’re filling us with lies
Unless you’ve got tits, beers, football, and guns
Money’s for me, and less of you.

Existential Haiku (day 2060)

Would the loss of your voice
Inspire you
To speak?

Moon at Midnight – Part XIV (day 1988)

(part XIII)

I was with Blackfoot
I knew that before I had seen them
I was in their land, after all,
And Frank had told me I would most likely run into them
Or at least see evidence of them
Luckily he had mentioned
That he had a good relationship with them
And I could easily use his and Amy’s names
To start with a good foot with them.

As I walked with them to their camp
One who introduced himself as Moon Cow
Asked me a few questions about myself
And relayed them to the first man I had met
Who I learned as Mountain Chief
He asked me what I was doing with Frank
And also why I had gone,
“Such good kitchen!” he laughed
I guess they were fond of Amy’s cooking
And regularly stopped in to see how the family was doing
Frank had told me they always have space
In their front lawn for a camp of Blackfoot.

When we walked in to camp,
Moon Cow led me into a big tent
With fresh Bison hides hanging beside it
And a young woman arranging things inside
For us to sit down comfortably
Moon Cow relayed questions to me
And then interpreted what I said back to the others
I could tell some of them
Could understand what I said too
By nodding of their heads when I answered
And Frank had said he didn’t speak Pikuni.

They asked many questions about animals I had seen
And if I had come in contact with any other tribes
Many questions about various Armies
And if I had heard any news of their movements
The whole while women would come in with various plates
Of what the group had killed while out today
Before they had found me
I could sense there was something happening
That they didn’t quite lead me on to
But I knew that things were getting hostile
Between them and the various soldiers of allegiance
Coming rather quickly into their hunting grounds
Calling it their own
The Lakota had been sending runners to implore their assistance
Fighting the United States Army.

I kept myself awake
Long after I felt I was starting to fall asleep
Somebody threw a warm bison pelt over my shoulders
And led me kindly out of the big tent
Into a tent a short walk away
Where my pack awaited me
I could see the big swollen moon clearly
Lighting my doorway and inside
I could tell I was safe for now
I wasn’t worried
Mostly because I knew the integrity of this tribe
Instinctively, when I first met them,
They were friendly people.

part XV

20160706-from-vancouver-island-to-pei-ned-tobin-15

Hades Reproach (day 1906)

I went to the cliff on a twenty third Thursday
A hole in the sky was my overturned beetle
Who did arise from the galley below
Hades riding high with his ninety nine henchmen
Calling on the world to dispense with all destruction
Guilty was the verdict as the stallion roared
Twisting through thin pines with a mighty shine sweat
Chasing down destroyers of a fruitless life
Standing tall and proud without a clue in Hell
So consumers continued down thinking everlasting well
Little did they know Hermes made his call
Down down down did they all quickly fall
Weighed down with all their spoils rusting inside out
Burning all with fright as they clutched real tight
Olympia laughing now: seven houndred heard well
Deafening screetch of every stallion rider’s call
Thunder in the night as they took their last bite
Thunder in the night as seven houndred took flight
All around screams as seven houndred struck down
Systematic reproach to every vacant soul
As dusk settles in and so the storm it slows
Children survey souls floating all around
Sweep away the dust with a conscious thrust
And with the backs of ninety nine civil men
Everyone is handed two slices of bread
And sweet mother Gaia lets her hair down low.

A Different Song (day 1848)

In my time of need
When I was growing strong
How could you say I was all wrong?
As I walked up to you
To ask a favor from
How could you sing a different song?

Like a feather that lives so long
Along the beak of a strong song
You were wisdom that we all needed
This last song to gather seed.

As I whispered to my friends
That we had stumbled upon truth
How could you yell upon your lungs
What we had already sent away
And claim it for your very own
Brought home as our one deluded messiah

Like a feather that lives so long
Along the beak of a strong song
You were wisdom that we all needed
This last song to gather seed.

I had two ounces in my pocket
You had traded me for my soul
Which I now carried forever more
Saying I was free in every deed
And on my lasting journey home,
So locked in your greedy empire I,
It was all unfaithful truth and a silenced song.

Like a feather that lives so long
Along the beak of a strong song
You were wisdom that we all needed
This last song to gather seed.

A Different Song by Ned Tobin

Asked to be An Angel Again (day 1813)

I was asked to become a guardian
Down low, down low, in a bottom of mud.
Too late, I said,
Coughing and excusing myself;
Toxicity had taken control
Of my asthma, uncontrollably
Letting my lungs flank
Sides of this yellow pole.
I smiled nicely
At the man who said something,
But to him, I wasn’t listening,
I was to busy snoring.
Excuse me, I said,
Under my breath
And a fly came and landed
Above my head,
So I moved on again, up high, up high.

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