by Bill Watkins, Land Thief, 8/28/2019
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My home and neighborhood was just assaulted by a reckless LAPD chopper, circling and zig-zagging low, loud and fast over our homes. With a spotlight searching. It was after nine o’clock at night, and the lack of direction of the metal war machine tells that this was some misguided patrol or stunt, without a particular point of search. Disgusting.
We’ve allowed ourselves to go pretty low by our uninhibited attempts at flight. The vanity of man. Of European man and descendants, to come to this land, kick off native people committed to a natural, peaceful life that respected the earth… to burn the earth, fly over citizens shining lights into our properties with or without cause, calling it public safety! It’s tempting to be mad at all of this, but I resist, love and forgive our confused brothers and sisters of the “law,” who I imagine have very hard lives to end up in such a lonely, loud metal box running war ops for a “living.”
Sometimes I think folks of our militaries and para-military police forces have trouble with peace. Wouldn’t know what to do, if peace came around; their jobs, in fact, dependent on bad things happening and response. Are there incentives for them to do nothing? Are we ready for peace? Is a Gang Unit prepared to disband, when we stop warring against gang communities—start loving and securing them properly?
The mandate from England and Spain to explore, discover and conquer lands “not actually possessed of any Christian Prince” continues to pollute this land. Guns, bibles, and conquering is perfectly embodied in that loud police chopper disturbing the peace and violating privacy rights above me tonight. To snatch it down from the sky and encourage that pilot and his or her bosses to walk down a good trail is why I write—
My pen now engaged for the rights of native peoples whose lands my descendants stole. I plan to remove myself soon, to head eventually back to England, inform the Crown of the mass amounts of gold I found. It was not a shiny rock we needed, dear England, but the wisdom of the Native Americans and their love for the land!
Bill Watkins, Traveling Poet 