Sunday, February 24, 2013

"Sacred Tree"

The Olde Men Say the Earth Only Endures.
You Spoke Truly.
You Spoke Right.
                                                         ~Native American 

  did Not Know then
 How Much was Ended.
When I Look back now From this High Hill of my Olde Age,
I can still See the Butchered Women and Children
Lying Heaped and Scattered
all  Along the Crooked Gulch
as plain as When my Eyes Saw Them with Eyes still Young.
And I can See that Something  Else
Died  there  in the Bloody Mud,
and was Buried there in the Blizzard.
A  People's  D ream  Died  There.
It  was  a  Beautiful  Dream...
the  Nation's  Hoop  is Broken  and  Scattered.
There is No Center any Longer,
the  Sacred  Tree
 is  Dead.

~Black Elk 

24 February, 2013   

Friday, February 22, 2013


so often,
far into the Night,
California Beckons.
Other Nights it's Hawaii, Singapore or Paris,
et cetera.
The open Road, like a Temptress sighs,
Luring me on with Promises
of Adventure and Intrigue.
Inevitably,  you Turn to me,
Eyes Gently locked in Sleep.
the haunting Invitations
Fade into the Darkness.
And I am left to Ponder my Life as it is,
as it was Before.
Rolling over, Sleep comes Easily.
I am Content 

you are.

~Randy Jaroch

21 February, 2013 

Friday, February 15, 2013

"At a Distance"

They're  OLoan  to you,
       Those  Little  Ones  you  Call  your Own.                  
Love  them  At a  Distance,
Let  Them  Breathe.
When They Leave You,
Let Them Seek Truths of their Own.
They  Have  their  Roads  to Travel,
Just as You Do yours.
Let  them  Fall  and Muddy  their Faces.
Let  them  Pick Themselves 
 back  Up again.
You Did.
Let Them Be. 
They Will. 

~Randy Jaroch

15 February, 2013  

Tuesday, February 12, 2013

"13 January, 1874"

I have heard
 that you intend to settle us on the reservation near the
Mountains. I don't want to settle. I Love to roam over the Prairies.
There I feel  Free and Happy, but when we settle down we grow
 pale and die. I have laid aside my lance, bow, and shield, and yet
I feel safe in your presence. I have told you the Truth. I have no 
little lies hid about me, but I don't know how it is with the commissioners.
Are they as Clear as I am?  A long time ago this Land Belonged to our
Fathers; but when I go up to the River I see camps of soldiers on its banks.
These soldiers Cut down my Timber;
they Kill my Buffalo;
and when I See that, my Heart feels like Bursting;
I feel Sorry...
Has the white man Become a child
that he should Recklessly kill and not eat?
When the red men slay game,
They do so that they may Live
Not Starve.

Chief of the Kiowas

12 February, 2013


Monday, February 4, 2013

"Never Give All The Heart"

  Give  All  the  Heart,
 for  Love
Will   Hardly  seem  worth  Thinking  of
TPassionate  Women  if  it  seem
Certain,  and  they  Never  Dream
That  it  Fades  out  from  Kiss  to Kiss; 
For  Everything  that's  Lovely is
But a Brief,
  Dreamy, Kind

Give the Heart Outright,
For they,  all  Smooth  Lips  can  Say, 
Have Given  their  Hearts  Up  to Play.
And  Who  could  Play it  Well  enough
IDeaf  and  dumb
  and  Blind  with Love?
 that  Made  This 
Knows  all  the  Cost,
For  he Gave
All  his  Heart

~W B  Yeats

4 February, 2013

Friday, February 1, 2013

"The Path"

 were  the Romantic.
I  was  just  being  Practical, Remember?
It  was,  in  Fact,  the  shortest,  most  Direct  Line
from  the  Bridge  where  we'd  Meet
to  that  big  olde  Oak  I  Loved.
I  still  Recall  how  Handsome  you  looked,
Running  ahead,
Laughing  back   Over  your  Shoulder.
Even  then  you Called  me an  olde Slow  Poke,
Remember  how I  Wept,
when  my  Oak  came  Down  for  the  new  Highway?
Then  the  Creek  that  ran  Under  the  Bridge
ran   Dry.
I  suppose  it  had  NReason  to  go on  Anymore,
NWhere  to  go.
But  the  Path  we  Made  Goes  on.
Remember  when  it  was  all  Untouched  Meadow?
WMade  it  a  Path,  you  and  I.
Once  it  was  all  Ours,
and  that  Meant  Something.


1 February, 2013