Standing Rock
STANDING ROCK
I have a struggle
In comprehending those
Who are using rubber bullets and tear gas
On these unarmed and peaceful protesters
How far they have lost their way
Since their birth as innocents
I wonder what lives they have endured
To have them land up in this dismal situation
Still, you do get a kind of identity
And the uniform and weapons come free
Posted on November 25, 2016, in Prose With Pretensions and tagged Evil, Injustice, Insanity, Life, Lost, Sacredness, Social commentary, Spirit, Stupidity, Violence. Bookmark the permalink. 6 Comments.
Ben Naga 
it’s quite sad, yes!
at some time
in all our pasts
we’ve done bad
believing it necessary
to survive.
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Even our current life is not without blemish.
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Sigh
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Sigh.
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I have had some of my friends go up to North Dakota from Navajo and other places, Ben. Right now the weather is absolutely frightful, as it is every year in North Dakota in December. The wind, the ferocious cold, and the snow have set down on the plains and are making life miserable for everyone not inside a really well insulated structure. Still, the protestors go out in a blizzard and dance in buffalo robes as the snow comes down horizontally and the wind whips the face, eyes, and any exposed skin. I love this poem you have written. Poets ought to stand for something, and you always do.
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If not to stand for something then why write at all, though I know that you and Ethel knew that long ago.
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