We Are Still Here
Reservation Dreams
After having just read "The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven" I wanted to try to express what my own feelings were on the cruel punishment that was inflicted on the Native Americans. This poem was written from some words taken from that novel.
When you came..we were put on the reservation here
not from your friendship... but because of your fear.
the land.. we just wanted to keep it open and free
after you came...we knew from that moment
that this could never be.
Now All of our children's.. futures and dreams
are carried in the back pocket of their faded bluejeans
The dreams they had, are now so very hard,
the children don't know, they trade them like cards,
Our future it is gone somehow it was lost
our past was stolen this was the cost
There is nothing so beautiful about this culture of mine
As an Indian boy with long black braided hair that shines
The sunshine adores him and coats him with love
his Spirit watches over him from high up above
The power of our imagination is stronger than yours
our stories... they will fill up all of the worlds pores
Our Passion and Affection, our Myth and our Charms
are only told of in schools by white, young school marms.
The Reservation songs... they aren't sung anymore
but the songs still hang in the air, full of our lore
Every molecule waits for a drumbeat to hear
every element waits for lyrics that never appear.
We were the generation of Hud house and cheese
we ask our ancestors to come back, rescue us, Please.
Our traditions... now are all that we have
we rub them in our wounds.. like a strong soothing salve
