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.
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.
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.