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Category Archives: Poetic Blog

The True Colossus

30 Friday Aug 2019

Posted by Bill Watkins in History, Poem, Poems, Poesia, Poetic Blog, Poetry, USA

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Emma Lazarus, Freedom, Native, Parody, Statue of Liberty, Truth, USA

Colossus1

Not like the racist giants that seek fame,
With orange hair, brawn and very big hands;
Here at port in New York, on stolen land
A mighty French statue of a lady and flame
Is the symbol of euphemized conquest and shame
Mother Earth and natives tamed, freedom a sham
Glows world-wide welcome, to all but Indians
The New Europe slapped down in Jesus’ name.
“Keep, ancient lands, your empire!” cries she
With loud police.  “Give me your slaves and more,
Your gathered weapons as vast as the sea,
The wretched ignorant knocking at our door.
Send these, the homeless, ignorantly to me,
We ruined Native America, nature itself with war.”

Cop Choppers Violate Our Rights

28 Wednesday Aug 2019

Posted by Bill Watkins in LAPD, Poem, Poems, Poesia, Poetic Blog, Poetry

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Joy, Love, Native, Peace, Truth

LAPD Helicopter1

by Bill Watkins, Land Thief, 8/28/2019

***

The right of the people to be secure in their persons, houses, papers, and effects, against unreasonable searches and seizures, shall not be violated… 

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!

Alternatives to Loud and Lethal Policing

28 Wednesday Aug 2019

Posted by Bill Watkins in LAPD, Native, Poetic Blog, Police

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Helicopters, Love, Noise, Noise Pollution, Peace

Horrible Police1

by Bill Watkins 8/28/2019

***

It starts with a hard truth and look back at our sad history of terrorizing and abusing Native America with our guns.  We stole land, put down some concrete, asphalt and buildings, now patrol it with the same guns that helped us to steal it.  Add to that other tools of war, like low-flying and noise polluting helicopters, and you put the finishing touches on completing the manifest destiny of planting loud and violent civilization on America, blessed by a biblical god.

You cannot abandon the helicopter program at LAPD or other police agencies across this country, without telling those hard truths first.  Without examining European practices like alcohol consumption, corruption, cursing and disease.  We were high on our bibles and guns, came in like plundering Vikings, and today keep plundering the silence with hunks of metal manned by men and women who think it okay to burn earth and go fast high above it to seek out bad people and lock them in jail.

Had we listened to Native American people, their chiefs, wise men and women, had we learned from their respectful ways, their love of mother earth—we would have taken in true Christian principles without the fancy book and professions of piety.  Had we listened…  Something we could still do!  “No matter how far down the wrong path you are on, turn around!” informs the Turkish proverb, and may we heed it now.

Come down from the air, police officers, and help our communities.  If you do not want to help in a peaceful manner, please leave.  Maybe research your family history, and return to your country of origin.  I know I plan to do so.  We should have never stolen this land!  Visit and set up trade in it…  Fine.  But build forts and towns without permission of the natural inhabitants?  No.  It is wrong.  It is even un-Christian and antithetical to a biblical way of life that forbids stealing in the Jewish command given to Moses.

We keep stealing, keep killing, brandish and fire our weapons, the LAPD and other cops training to kill—as we have done since first dropping our sick feet down on Native America and this land.  Shhhhhh!  Quiet.  Stop.  Learn from the wise chiefs, read Kent Nerburn’s beautiful book, The Wisdom of the Native Americans, and note our part in stealing land.  No matter how far down this wrong path we are on, let’s ground our horrible choppers, melt down our sinful guns, and turn back toward a real heaven Native Americans will surely help us reach.

As to an alternative for loud and lethal policing, let us walk away and invite Native Americans back into their land to be governed by the Great Spirit, as before we came here.  When we respect these people fully, we will begin a true path to peace and public safety.

Deciding to Succeed

28 Wednesday Aug 2019

Posted by Bill Watkins in Inspiration, Poem, Poems, Poesia, Poetic Blog, Poetry, Success

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Inspiration, Joy, Love, Peace, Power, Success, Truth

Mother Teresa1

Enduring pain is the key,
Welcoming it as the rain
before the ‘bow,

This is life, a one day,
one time venture between
wake and sleep,

The god of our understanding
helping us when asked,
making a choice.

Decisions are a bigger thing,
Declaring victory for one thing
over another,

Deciding to win means we
make the call to put our
best effort out—

I have been inspired by
those Marines, standing tall
so stand up too.

I have been inspired by
Mother Teresa giving her
will to God—

So give mine to God too,
my days are free when I
am out of the way;

I think no longer of what
I can get, but of what I can
with care give.

Selflessness taught by
Saint Francis, generosity of
the Jesuit Ignatius,

Songs from Natasha, three
words in the chorus of Spring,
I love you,

I love you, I love you.
We can joke and will as humans
surely stray.

But if we want to succeed in
the John Wooden way for
Peace of mind—

We will write down our goals,
our dreams, check them against
gods and feasibility,

Then with courage and care
do them, if possible, through
the pain today.

Where’s the Peace?

25 Sunday Aug 2019

Posted by Bill Watkins in LAPD, Poetic Blog, Police

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Abuse, Joy, LAPD, Love, Peace

LAPD Helicopter1

by Bill Watkins, Land Thief, 8/25/2019

LAPD are the loudest entity on my block.  Consistently loud, abusive and rude.  They damage the peace routinely, which is at odds with the concept of Peace Officers.  LAPD’s supposed mission:

…to safeguard the lives and property of the people we serve, to reduce the incidence and fear of crime, and to enhance public safety while working with the diverse communities to improve their quality of life.  Our mandate is to do so with honor and integrity, while at all times conducting ourselves with the highest ethical standards to maintain public confidence.

Was “peace” and “keeping the peace” something that was considered in our mission statement?  Something impossible to do with the abusive use of loud, polluting helicopters!  What “quality of life” is increased with war machines killing the peace in a ten mile radius?  How is a bad situation made better by making it worse?

“There’s a suspect in this region, so add the crime of noise pollution, and send a chopper?”

I don’t want the LAPD’s war on our communities.  Do you?!?!

Shailene

25 Sunday Aug 2019

Posted by Bill Watkins in beauty, Poem, Poems, Poesia, Poetic Blog, Poetry

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Earth, God, Love, Native, Peace, Shailene Woodley

Shailene2

I write of the hope of
the new, presented faces
and forms first seen on screen
or live in person, you see her
in a market, him crossing the
street, at the beach or in a lot
we stole from native America.

Peace and eternity shine in
those born and growing toward
truth and revolution.  The revolving
door revolves and we crash into
vivid rainbow eyes of amber,
gold, brown and green, earth
tones defending the planet
against more theft.

It’s tempting to use her in
a film, to turn Descendants into
Lolita part two, the director and
all mesmerized by youthful
willingness, but real men and
women know when to hold
back, when to bow, be humble
and how to honor life.

There’s endless hope in those
eyes; God help us honor the
Creation, our parents and our
first people instincts—

which know we honor best
by staying close to earth,
the right place for love tonight.

Helicopters Disturb the Peace

24 Saturday Aug 2019

Posted by Bill Watkins in LAPD, Native, Poetic Blog, Police

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Love, Police, Truth

LAPD Helicopter1

by Bill Watkins, Land Thief, 8/24/2019

TITLE 11. OF CRIMES AGAINST THE PUBLIC PEACE [CPC 403 – 420.1]
( Title 11 enacted 1872. )

415.
(2) Any person who maliciously and willfully disturbs another person by loud and unreasonable noise.

Written American law code is sort of a joke, when you think that the United States government was founded on land theft.  But while here, I’ll play with it to point out how unlawful LAPD and other police agency helicopters are, operating loudly and by code illegally over our communities.

I never see the criminals or suspects around here, just hear and see the horrible sounds and sights of LAPD’s warlike choppers—fine for the Hell of CIA’s war in Vietnam, but no good for a peaceful, loving society.  I smirk, for how can we ever be, if we do not invite native America back to their land, retreat to our own lanes and spaces—from our countries of origin to smaller tracts with permission and coordination with the natives?

A horrible sound and people we have let ourselves be, from the get-go rationalized by our bibles and guns.  “We must be better than the native peoples,” we belched, “because we can kill better, curse better, drink alcohol better and steal land better.”  Shameful.

Turkish Proverb1

The moment we turn back, we can rethink the asphalt in that road, the polluting machines we use to travel on them, and above everything else the horrible war machines police abuse to abuse the peace of our neighborhoods, called helicopters.  A horrible invention by a lost people, a people who have abandoned their fathers’ graves and past—

to steal the land of native Peoples in Martin Waldseemüller’s “America.”  We have lost our way, and the abuse of helicopters is representative of this loss, along with mass shootings and gun obsession.  If we ever should want peace of mind, we must turn this ship around;

it all starts by telling the truth.

LAPD Choppers Reduce Quality of Life

23 Friday Aug 2019

Posted by Bill Watkins in LAPD, Native, Poetic Blog, Police

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Love, Noise Pollution, Peace, Police

LAPD Helicopter1

by Bill Watkins, Land Thief, 8/22/2019

We are victims of our own fundamental sins in “Los Angeles” and other modern cities across this land mapmaker Martin Waldseemüller called America in 1507.  The real name for where I live is the native Otsungna, or “place of the Roses,” and mustn’t that have been nice?  There was a river running through it, instead of graffiti on concrete surrounding a weak stream.  There was a lake in the area we now call San Marino, but white farmers came in and sucked out its water so much that it is now a nice grass-lined park… but no more lake.

There were no sirens, no airplanes, and no helicopters robbing the earth of peace simultaneous to burning her blood to go faster and higher.

Speaking of robbery, there was a people, mostly naked and brown-skinned, who lived on and with the land.  They had no books, modern weapons or guns—so fell easy prey to aggressive, land-grabbing white people, who threatened and committed violence under a painted cross.  We stole land and butted out peaceful inhabitants here so that we could erect our New Europe.

We brought guns, alcohol, cursing and disease—but oh man did we have a book!  “This book will save you from all your sins!” we bragged to the native tribes living at peace with the real God in nature.  We did not want to hear their myths and stories, took some tips on planting and living in this land, then kicked them out in the name of the god of words on pages, revved up our industrial revolution and “progress”—progressing and advancing our weaponry, noise, cursing and alcohol consumption, while the native people were pushed out of sight and mind.

Today LAPD helicopters claim to patrol this land, claim to “safeguard the lives and property” of us citizens of a city, county, state and government based in land theft.  Crimes are committed everyday, the most evident to me while I still live on this stolen land by police helicopters killing peace with their war tools.  The LAPD mission statement, quoted above, also says that its officers work “with the diverse communities to improve their quality of life.”  Are we defining terms the same way?

What a sad people we are, roaring up in metal vessels, polluting the air and life below, deeming it good for our quality of life.  A roar we unfortunately hear, since 1957’s first introduction of the noise polluter above our city, to me the point of the sword that killed and forced out native America, peace, rivers and lakes from this land.  We could have set up trade, respected native peoples, allowed them to live side by side with us, but no.  We were too sick, too infected with the self-righteousness of might equaling right, with some words in a book we were sure could not ever be beaten by any people’s unwritten traditions.

We have failed to improve this land, and yes I plan to leave it soon, to give my spot back to a native American.  While I am still here, I will continue to point out obvious crimes—most commonly committed by our supposed crime-stoppers, the LAPD.  Police officers across this land represent our collective shame, our thievery, our pollution.  It’s time we admitted our sins—

the first step in amending them.

Otsungna

22 Thursday Aug 2019

Posted by Bill Watkins in California History, History, Los Angeles, Native, Poem, Poems, Poesia, Poetic Blog, Poetry

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

Indigenous, Joy, Lost Angeles, Love, Native, Native America, Peace, Stolen Land, Theft

Wild Roses2

I am not where I thought I was, a
deeper look… a willingness to open;
change rains down valleys of doubt
to shine in the upside down rhythm
that is not fully mine!

El Sereno is a Spanish word.  Bairdstown
sort of English, but before that was
the indigenous Otsungna—the place of
roses, making white guests think of
names not fully mine!

I was here because I was born of woman
in nearby Pasadena, Chippewa for “Crown
of the Valley,” and before all the names—
the land was how it was, and it was as true,
forming, being in time!

The Jewish God created, the native Great
Spirit too; Jesus was a wonderful son
and teacher preaching poverty to the
masses, making pain a blessing?  Wide is
destruction’s path line!

Kanekuk said the land belongs to the Great
Spirit, be it man or woman, woman or man,
no matter the words—a rose by any other name
would smell as sweet, Borgesian fictions
dancing to beats and rhyme!

Honoring our father and our mother, we
can live a long while in the land given,
the Jewish God on the page, Niagara
and other feats of nature defining the
Eternal art that shines!

And yet we litter El Sereno, which litters
Bairdstown, which littered Otsungna—which
tried to live as one with nature, the Great
Spirit, Creation.  Sometimes when you win,
you lose, it’s a shame!

The hope is in staying awake, remembering
the beginning, planting and replanting
first plants, calling on the first names,
asking native nations to return here and
help us grow our lives!

Progress Colonized

11 Sunday Aug 2019

Posted by Bill Watkins in Alcoholism, History, Poetic Blog, USA

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

America, Death, Joy, Lies, Love, Peace

Bad Flag3

Euphemism is a funny thing,
a disguise like wind in sky,
a subtle turn in the “s” so
one can curses bless

in the face of death, finding
eternal life in lies that keep
you doing harm for material gain
the USA a ruse of gangs.

Peace was a rainbow too cheap
to truly love, the storm on storm
over the years clouding facts
like law schools in countries

founded in native blood, yelling
out “Freedom” while we lock
them up in reservations.
Claiming “ours” that which was

Stolen.

Euphemism comes to bat, over
and over again.  We brought
“Progress,” “Colonized” the land!
Brought farming and farmers

To new land?  It was taken, but
that didn’t matter to the earnest
ignorance that made hail out of snow.
Lie after lie covering a violent sky.

We can always turn around the ship,
Start telling the Truth before we die

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