toritto's Blog

ehh....what town in Italy is your family from?

toritto

toritto
Location
tampa bay metro, Florida,
Birthday
September 10
Bio
I was born in year 4 of the reign of the Emperor Tiberius Claudius and raised on 66th Street and 13th Ave. in Brooklyn. And Coney Island, Traveled the world. Married my high school sweetheart and stayed together 40 years. Now a retired old widower crank living in Florida with my cat. Author of "Initial Verses" - a collection of poems on love, loss, poverty and war" and "Toritto's Blog - a Memoir of a life in posts."

MY RECENT POSTS

OCTOBER 29, 2012 5:55PM

Ghost Dance

Rate: 10 Flag

Hope Springs Eternal - Terpning 

My father has much pity for us.

My father has much pity.

I hold out my hands toward him and cry

in my poverty;  I hold out my hands

in my poverty I cry.

 

Wovóka the Paiuite

received the Nanissá-ana

in a vision

directly from God

on the day of the black sun.

 

And god said tell all the nations

the word; live in peace

and I will bring you together

with the spirits and a new earth

in happiness and abundance.

 

Wovóka the Prophet

carried the sacred word

to the Caddo,  Lakota and Cheyenne

and the people began to dance.

Nanissá-ana.

 

Wearing the magic shirts

they could see the relatives

who had left their bodies

hear the thunder of the buffalo

knowing the earth would be reborn.

 

The spirit host is advancing they say

the spirit host is advancing.

They are coming with the buffalo they say

They are coming with the buffalo.

They are coming with the new earth.

 

In the mists of Cheyenne Autumn

amongst corn shocks and burning leaves

the spirits of the Sioux will dance

They are coming with the buffalo they say

coming with the new earth.

 

first published on Fictionique.com

http://fictionique.com/?p=15698

 

 

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How have you found this voice? This is astounding.

Going up top to add a rate, and thanks for this post.
Stacey - When I was 7 or 8 years old, around 1950, the weekend before Halloween every newspaper magazine in America had a drawing in the centerfold of an ole grandpa and a child sitting on the edge of a clearing, corn shucks piled in the shape of teepees, a mist of burning smoke, and the ghosts of Indians dancing around the fires. The week was always called Indian Summer.

http://tuxjunction.net/injunsummer.html

Well the illustration was stopped in the eighties as its sentiments refelcted the turn of the century but this summer I happened to see it again - and I remembered.

Regards and glad you liked.

Frank
many american 'progressives' imagine dubya and his cabinet invented evil. that is convenient, dubya gone, virtue emerges.

no. evil arises from the power of one human over another, and when 535 humans have power over 330 million, evil is built in.

america was born in slavery and ethnic cleansing, from a document written to protect wealth from those with nothing. the writers were explicit and frank in their aims, and in their contempt for any who was not rich, white and male.

the destruction of native american societies was inevitable, with neighbors who despised them as landless and incapable of accumulating wealth. they survived, some, and some remain cohesive. a few are prospering from mineral wealth on reservation land, more by running casinos. a bad chapter of american history, but not the worst.
I live next to a big fancy Indian Reservation and Casino. They are building a twelve story hotel now. They get free health and dental care. I am poor and I look over at them now with envy. The tables have turned and I am happy for them.
A beautiful [ainting that dovetails into a beautiful poem... well done!
Thank you,Frank...I get carried away by the beauty of those people and their music.
Rated
Thank you,Frank...I get carried away by the beauty of these people and their music.
Rated
I love the painting.Who created it?
And that the dance was misunderstood..

Rated for stopping it didn't stop it's message.
It was a long time ago, not forgotten. R&R
Heidi - the illustration is Hope Springs Eternal by Howard Terpning

regards
This is the best thing I've read in months toritto- thank you.

And I believe you- They are coming with the new earth...and the rhythm will make it so.
I love the rhythm of this poem.
There was a time of the buffalo and it is long gone. The humanity that survives is not the humanity of that time and the Earth is not forgiving. It is angry and becoming angrier as its gifts are disdained. We are now feeling a small touch of that anger but, in ignoring it, have no sense of how huge that fury will become. The ancient peoples who lived here have withered and mostly disappeared and it seems destiny that we all shall soon follow.
long a favorite- thank you.