Dance Me Outside
She was arrayed in purple and scarlet. With hair black as choke cherries, her eyes the brightest obsidian beneath dark lashes. Hips don’t lie and I marveled with great amazement. Never have I envisioned a more carnal enchantress of an Isis or Cleopatra, Queen of the Damned, perfumed in Prada, knowing she was trouble. 180 proof, her cup was mixed double. “Pretty Little Thing, Owl Dance with Me”. She said, “Would you dance me outside, in the pale of the moonlight, where the lunar rays don’t chase the darkness away, so much as crown it”. Dumbfounded, under her spell, “Well, a dance with the devil could only be right, beneath a night of twinkling stars. Where immodesty shows herself without a veil”. Beauty and the Beast, Jezebel and The Chief. I give her the throne, but she sits upon me. Lips taste like buffalo berries. Drunk with the wine of our fornication, saying take me not just in your body but in your heart. Oh wretched fool that I am. Left to weep and lament, for hedonistic appreciation of my prophetess. If adoration of you is wrong, judge me corrupted. Oh how I’ve fallen for my beloved, into a bottomless pit. Since I can only dream, you’re my Succubus. Pain is love, in bondage my Goddess. I promise this is the last love song wasted on you, but I know it’s not true. So much pain, I hate that I love you.
By Daniel Thomas
In prison see us with the cleats on. Put the stomps on the who baller block on my entrepenatives. Still the most hated. Shout the news. We done paid our dues. On count too. It’s not how we can. It’s how we choose. Power moves, nationwide natives bring it to the table. How bout you? Ladies too. Convicts don’t get the meat shank. That’s for you. But I need you now. They steady trying to drown a shark. I love you like BraveHeart. If you’ll be my paramour. No more lock doors. All in the open. Where people can see. My next door neighbor. Taking autographed pictures of me. I might just be the biggest Chief you’ve seen thus far. Ride in a car. With some natives in the back. Like a truck that’s Cadillac. War tatted up. Orange is the New Black, cause I got a dream. Not a get rich quick scheme. I go the hardest. Just not trying to be the weakest link. Which is always the first to go. Self-control is power. Act like you know. I got kicked out of school. Cause I don’t play recess. Still the playground legend. And I work out with Sasquatch. Some guys name on my loincloth. Who’s your favorite NDN? Who’s your worst enemy. I see red people of the sun. Strategy of the Chief.
By Daniel Thomas
Great Spirit shed light on my path second generation orphan, native nomad. Just a young man cub, raised without a mother’s love. The underdog nobody wanted to see win. Born in sin? No. But I walk a black road. Fugitive, no home on my homeland. Live so fast, they buried me alive. Nationwide, I was made to fight, before I knew what I was fighting for. Going back to my roots on the Powwow Highway. Drive through States? Naw, NDN country. To dance for the hunnies. I never felt so lucky. See the way they look at me, and I got a pitched teepee. Animal furs and star quilts at the camp that I built. Count coup all night long. To those stick game songs. Until I’m on the road again and the highway don’t care, that you braided my hair. Many more miles to bear. I’ll see you at the crossroads, so you won’t be lonely. A friend with benefits, your home. No matter the weather. I’d walk through lightning, just to give you a feather. A journey of the heart. A quest of the spirit, gather round the fire. I’d like you to hear it.
I’m so symbolic
Broke the 1st rule of fight club
Sacred truths so mystery
I don’t even know it.
Editor N Chief
1st N8V on the moon
Mylzavelli Urban Heyoka 5150
Mylz Da Vinchi W Chainz
The damned urban NDN
P.S. Look at the forest. The straight trees are chopped down. The crooked ones are left standing.
Mylz Tha Damned
We are down here. Down here we all float. In the belly of the beast, in case you ain’t know. They call this place Hell. I’ve come to call it home. If you’re scared go to church. I’m where the wild things roam. OMG. Thee ambitions of the chief. To gain the whole world, and give it back to my peeps. For a vision I’m crying. Sing me a whiskey lullaby. I feel like dying. Speaking in hidden messages. Or flat out demonic tongues. Cast down the stairway to heaven, ‘cause I was the one plucking angels feathers. Just to wear them in my hair. Dub me unforgiven, ask me if I care. Demonized, in spirituality blinded eyes. Is why I embrace my damnation. Sad Satan, may I have this this dance, in the pale of the moonlight, and I’ll be like. It’s better to reign in Hell, than to appease a jealous God. What can I say, I’m and NDN outlaw. Glutton for forbidden fruits and all. Yet more blasphemies have been committed, in self-righteous superiority of religion. Zealots on a mission. To cast the first stone. Then by those judged infidel and satanic. Granted, I’m into necromancy like the Catholics, and occult practices. Beliefs being born in sin you can have it. Reflecting on your His-story, I understand it. Rather than be extorted, I’ll take my chances and continue these ghost dances.
We understand God is nearer to us in solitude. There is a magnetic
and sacred connection that accumulates in solitude, but is quickly dissipated
by life in a crowd. We would deem it sacrilege to build a house for the one
who is found face to face in the mysterious shadowy aisles of the primeval
forest, along winding trails, through unbroken trails of the wild forest. Listen
to the choir of the woodland birds as they pour forth their praise from
thick foliage. Or visit the sunlit bosom of virgin prairies. Stand upon
dizzy spires and pinnacles of naked rock. See the one who is enrobed
in filmy veils of cloud. There on the edge of the visible world where
our great grandfather sun kindles his evening campfire. Whose
war canoe is launched upon majestic heavenly rivers and inlaid seas.
Whose glory is visible in the vast jeweled vault of the moonlit
night sky. Such a God needs no lesser cathedral. There I confess, I
stood stunned by her beauty as if she rained blows upon my head. Then
the fatal blow was struck to my heart when she looked up and
smiled. Humans and nature are intimately entwined. Man did not
weave the web of life. He is merely a strand in it. In such a way
that whatever he does to the web, he does to himself.
Spawn Of Me (NDN Goddess)
In my mind, where I still hold my little dictator, my heart is filled with joy. I feel as blessed as the ponies are when the snows melt filling the streams with water and the fresh grass grows. It’s tradition for those who aspire to an NDN Princesses favor, to represent themselves with those things of theirs which they perceive her extremely to delight. Customarily we see horses, furs, the world. Gifts offered to a Goddess worthy of Her Majesty. Desiring in like tradition to approach your divine with some token of my devotion I have found nothing among my possessions I value and appreciate so much as wisdom accumulated over the many miles of red and black road. In urban times with an exhaustive search into great mysteries which understanding very carefully and patiently meditated over and sifted by yours truly and now reduced into this little book. Though I deem it unworthy of your beauty, I am humble enough to pray your love will incline you to accept it. Considering I can present you no greater gift than that in all my winters and at the expense of many dangers and difficulties, I have learned to know. A part of you is a part of me. If you keep me in your prayers, I’ll always be there. Wherever you are, take a look around. I’m the moon shining down, the sun-kissed shine, the wind in your hair. A thousand miles apart? No, I’m the beat in your heart, and a part of you will always be Daniel’s Girl.
Eternally yours - Dad
1st N8V On Tha Moon
First native on the moon / That’s how much I love you / Plus I’m a looney tune / Pep Lapew / If I throw that tomahawk chop / It’s off the head with you / Scalps is over with / This the new school / Metaphorically speaking / In case you aint caught that / I’m taking heads off / A new type of warrior / In a battlefield that’s evolved / And if you’re still lost / That’s why I’m Boss / But you can all me Chief / Or Mylzavelli / I suggest you approach me / With tobacco and a gift / Cause I keep it tradish / It’s my wish / To kindle a council fire / On behalf of our kids / What type of future will we leave them with / I’m goin all out to put em in buckskin / All I need is one little two little three crazy NDN’Z / Thuggish ruggish Chiefs / or Savages if you please / Keep your mind right / Special forces elite / And to the ladies / Can I get a LuLu / For the Trill please / Cause it makes my heart soar to the moon / The strength to reach for the stars / They said skies the limit / But I go way too hard / Yea I know I’m out there / Maybe even Crazy / Doctors and teachers said / I was an F.A.S. baby / Wanna smash my head on a rock / They must’ve had a vision I was the one to be stopped / Then came the cops, U.S. Marshalls and Feds / The only good Indian is dead / Nuff said.
THE LAST HOSTILE
I am a problem for bringing savage back and it’s so matter of fact. Heart as black as the clouds throwing thunder and the court documents say it’s the U.S. of a versus me. Guess I’m a one man war party. But I’m not guna do what everyone thinks I’m guna do. All I wanna know is who’s coming with me. Therefore I laid out the strategy of the Chief. Warning though it’s something like heresy. Urban Heyoka better ask somebody. Then check yourself is it really? Project Mayham just because I can. Still singing this is my land and I remain untamed an unashamed. Knowledge is power so I spit game. But you might not be glad I came till I’m already gone. Coming soon my swan song. Until then find me crawling along through tall wet grass with bad bow and broken arrow, but I stay strong trying to hunt sustenance for the whole nation. Last of a dying breed, do you need any more explanation. Weakest links quit fakin. Taking it all back just to give it away, so what’s with the hate in your eye? Or am I just lost in another place and time. My crime is the blood in my veins is still a little too wild. He’s a madman your honor, belongs on the green mile. If that’s the case I reply with a smile, bury my heart at wounded knee as the last hostile.
Alive In A Grave
When the casket walls start to cave in kicking my @$$, I start singing out loud bout taking it all back. Heyah! Way Heyah! And it sounds like that. Fighting terrorism goes way back. Since 1492 to be exact. And my ancestors don’t speak English. In the spirit of Crazy Horse maybe this Native got a death wish. So French kiss the raised fist. I did this for y’all indigenous. Now I’m behind enemy lines. Dancing with wolves to dancing with the devil, no homo. Spit a poem and it comes out as flow though. Urban Native. My family’s most hated. It’s been a long hard road though so I can take it. Long hair don’t even care. Keep a thousand yard stare with the eyes in the back. Up in here it’s like that. A little love would be nice though. Y’all don’t even know. Everyday it gets more cold. Heart done froze. It’s more like a Blackhole. I would sell my soul just to see my baby. That kinda pain made daddy a little crazy. Crazy in a sacred way. Who I am today. Editor N Chief. AKA Mylzavelli. Feeling like I aint a killer but don’t try me. Urban Heyoka 5150. With smoke signals from a mass grave. Saying we are still alive. But I’m not gonna cry if they don’t hear. The heathens advocate had it up to here. All I need is one mic. But all I got is one knife. (Smiles) Naw, I’m just playing…Just saying. Heyah! Way Heyah! HAHAHA!