Apropos 4th of July and with that whipping that dead horse of mine, as they have forgotten our War Veterans so the nation are willing to let the "bygones be bygones" but we most remember, we all are collectively part of the guilty of our forefathers, because as time passes and no one raises his or her voice, the silence go on growing but not the memory.
Apropos the 4th of July...like having our birthday party intruding in a home of other people...

In the year of the Lord, 1621



I heard a voice coming down the mountain
full of regret, like a bad river covering wave,
drowning every leaf of prairie green grass
that Great Spirit Manitou to the Nations gave
so all the buffalo herds would grew stronger
and Father Winter could hang from their hair,
like a never ending caresses of northern winds,
with white snow and long, made of ice, threads.

I heard the warning shrieks of many flying haws
full of alarm, like bad echoes from the slaves
that once were free, having unrestricted souls
and no one out there to shackle them with chains,
it wasn’t a birds song to the magic of all life
but more like a tortured ghost screams of pain,
the ones Medicine Man hears when full moon
and talking to him will be the forgotten braves.

I heard the silence inside all Nations tribes drums
freedoms as we knew are now inside a grave
where it fester, not ever to return from dust to dust
but to be an open wound, a foul smelling claim
which pervert the harmony of a peaceful world
from innocent blood extracted by demented men,
I heard my warning own voice dying in the skies,
from a “reservation,” the warning is too late.


Chief Wounded Eagle
Sioux