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Bill Watkins, Traveling Poet

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Bill Watkins, Traveling Poet

Tag Archives: Great Spirit

The Failure of Democracy

03 Wednesday Nov 2021

Posted by Bill Watkins in Poem, Poems, Poetic Blog, Poetry, Political

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Bible, Democracy, Geocracy, God, Great Spirit, Guns, Joy, Lies, Love, Native America, Peace, Poem, Poetry, Politics, Spirituality, Truth, USA

Democracy1

It’s not so bad.

The realization that the second
major people-governing concept
has failed…

First there was Higher Power, gods
invoked so close to us on
earth that they came to our
dreams, spoke and guided us.

Folks like those under the prophet
Samuel kicked that theocracy out
years ago, thought kings might
be a better way, for “Hey—

all the other nations was doin’ it!”
The Hebrew god warned kings might
be corrupt, finally that on the day
we complained, he wouldn’t hear.

So the Greeks rose up like a Narcissus
flower, rejected single male power,
and invented dēmokratia, democracy –
Long live people-rule, at last!

The Romans liked it, spread it
around by force, liked Jesus—spread
him around by force, combined the two
to steal land in the New World,

a Dutch mapmaker calling it all…
America.  The natives still had their
higher powers, excited by the earth
and their place under a Great Spirit.

But we had our democracy, bible, and
most powerful of all, it would seem,
gun powder.  An Asian invention, fireworks
English and other Euros used to kill.

So people-rule it was and has been,
although I’ve never seen people rule
during an earthquake, forest fire
or hurricane.

“It’s flooding, you say? Well, let’s
hold a vote,” never much swayed
the elements, but still we claim that
“people-power is best.”

Until it isn’t.  Until two parties argue
and argue and do nothing.  Until you
realize there is no power in hallways,
marble and human art, that the

natives may have had it more right
than wrong, the waterfalls, valleys,
rivers and mountains of their
higher powers holding joy and sway.

I used to talk and write of Geocracy,
God, Earth and People-rule, but
know the word in front offends, so
onward I look, want to join?

People don’t always rule, so let’s
move on… There’s something better
at the end of this tunnel, so keep
digging toward the light.

Democracy has died because it was
never in the first place right.

The combination of people, honoring
the earth and invoking a higher power
seeming to this poet the truth,
a way to it, giving blindness sight.

Guns Are for Cowards

24 Friday Jan 2020

Posted by Bill Watkins in Guns, Native, Native America, Native American, Peace, Poem, Poems, Poetic Blog, Poetry

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Anti-Gun, Cowardice, Faith, Firearms, Great Spirit, Gun Control, Guns, Joy, Love, Native American, Peace

The native bow and arrow, quiet
and flowing with nature not good
enough to the conquering European
with our war sickness, our gun
powder blowing up targets loudly
and cowardly from distance.

Like splitting the atom, some think
it’s good while others see a diabolical
power unleashed, the Asian invention
and European application satisfied
the war addict, put humans above
nature and God.

Bombs, guns, fireworks—do they please
the Creator?  The birds?  The beasts of
the wilderness?  In battle, do guns
show someone’s courage and honor?
Or… do guns show cowardice, a warrior’s
unwillingness to face his enemy?

From the fields of the native Great Spirit
let us dive into the bible, the other
weapon England and Spain used to
conquer America.  What would Jesus
say to guns?  What does the bible say
about killing?

It’s so easy to hate your enemy, try to
kill them or scare them with something
like guns.  Anyone can hate someone
they do not like, but what strong heart
and soul can love their enemy as a brother,
see them walk on and come from the same

Earth?  From the same great Mother, all
humans human with the same needs,
hopes, fears, doubts… Faith?  Where is
yours, in a loud weapon that creates
fear and noise?  Mine is in love and Peace,
In the rainbow after the rain, in

the great but worthwhile struggle to
love those who persecute you, to see
them as fellow children in this merry-go-
round called Life

Truth in American Policing

11 Saturday May 2019

Posted by Bill Watkins in Blog, Blogs, Poetic Blog, Police, Political

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

God, Great Spirit, Love, Native, Peace, Police, Truth

Police Aviation -- 1934 image1

—by Bill Watkins
Los Angeles, 5/11/2019

Native Americans had quite a message for us, so far unheeded or followed very much.

They lived at one with nature, took and used what they needed, in harmony and without loud intrusions like guns.

Europeans brought guns with their bibles, an arms race close quarters and over-populating seemed to bring in the Old World.  A good life to a European person was different from the good life a Native person found in America.  Book reading, elaborate clothing, and aforementioned guns—loud and nature-defying—were seen as marks of a better society than found when Columbus and other explorers began to conquer this land.

The British and Spanish cited lack of Christianity as a justification to kill, enslave and remove native people here, in a long war to replace their culture and presence with ours.  Now, guns are commonplace, noise meeting little resistance, police forces an extension of those first European thoughts that the un-Christian should be dominated and controlled.

A militant start has yielded militancy, and I have seen first-hand the violence at the heart of modern American governing.  Violence.  Judgment of others.  Justifications for noise and war.  Scapegoating people to separate us, from “gangs” to “terrorists”—groups we create with political corruption, greed and un-checked imperialization and colonization.

Guns do not make a culture better, but louder.  More violent.

Helicopters the same.

When will we stop, listen to the native Great Spirit?  When will we hear God in peace?  When will we stop taking so much money in leadership, while communities suffer and seek to protect themselves in what judgmental circles call those darned “gangs?”

We made the gangs with our neglect.  Now go punish them with our guns?  Now go invade privacy and disturb the peace with helicopters and sirens day and night?

The greatest enemy to peace in the city of Los Angeles is the greed at City Hall combined with a violent paramilitary force protecting the status quo of neglectful suits claiming to serve under-served neighborhoods.  Those under-served communities suffer, while councilmen make $178,000/year, the mayor about $232,000 and the Chief of Police around 300K.

I’m writing to plead with the real criminals of Los Angeles to change our ways, take less, and finally start serving communities we turned into problems years ago by kicking peace out to make way for our war.  Our war on nature.  Our war on people without bibles.  Our war on people who peacefully lived in a spot we coveted.  We displace and displace, neglect and neglect, drive around in our suits and bloated salaries.  Join me and end this criminal cycle!

Looking for Native America

22 Tuesday May 2018

Posted by Bill Watkins in Native, Native America, Native American, Poem, Poems, Poetry

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Discovery, Earth, God, Great Spirit, Love, Mother, Native, Native America, Native American, Native Americans, Peace, Revival, Spirit, Truth, Wales, World Peace

It’s a long journey from Wales
to here;

400-plus years of wandering
makes one wonder what they feared.

We left our fathers’ graves behind,
Welshmen and women ground into
the winter soil, Celtic calls for
adventure, armored up and ready
to go, sir!

Captain John Smith is noble enough,
we can handle this sea, this new
land, the savage race—look at us!!!

We’ll make the Crown proud, become
stars, make names for ourselves,
but only if this colony comes off okay.

We’re British and militaristic; we see
these brown-skinned people, compare
and contrast, seek advantages, a way
to squat and succeed.

“Success is a peace of mind, knowing
you did the best you could to be the
best you were capable of becoming.”

Best Christians, John?

Best warriors?

Best Explorers?  Businessmen?  Reps
of the Crown?

People.  The best People we could be
requires more looking back than forward
if the looking causes you to cringe with
regret and shame.

Go back, see the poverty of the native
tribe, the reservations in shackles
of bison’s spoiled hide.

Hunted and sold, looking for gold—

Not realizing the real value was in
the wisdom of the land, expressed through
its proud care-takers.

There are many differences from nation
to nation today, and as much or more
between the native nations then and
now as the Great Spirit

hides under Western medicine, civilization
and money.

Stop taking it.  Fight for your land, still,
Native America, seek out the documents,
the treaties, the promises made, take
them to court, and win.

Hire attorneys and win.  Reclaim and rise,
never give up the spirit to try, we are
a part of the land, it is God’s

and is our pride.

They break the rocks for concrete, burn
the blood for rocket fuel, we pray for
the lost Europeans, that they find
their way back home.

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