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“Front lines everyday”- a poem after my 3rd trip to Standing Rock

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(Traditional Skin Stitch Tattoo done by yours truly in Standing Rock Mid-November 2016)

>>>——–>they dig up sacred burial grounds, unearth the graves of leaders, the resting remains of villages. they are rote in their pursuit, money is no obstacle for them, and amerikkkas laws only cater to their greed, they have snipers on top of hills and spotlights on the protectors at night, helicopters during the day, barb wired an concrete barricaded hwy 1806 they hide their badges so that the police and corporate state can safely brutalize Indigenous people as they defend their mother with all they have left, their flesh and bone and fire inside their veins and somehow the rage of 524 years of continual colonial fuckery has been beautified with peaceful resistance, what tremendous force has prevented us from shooting back? how have our Indigenous people stood there to get tear gassed, pepper sprayed, rubber bulleted, concussion grenaded, water cannoned, tazed, thrown to the ground and arrested, put in dog kennels with numbers written on their cold bodies, all so the corporations can continue to dig up Indigenous graves behind the safety of gun point security, to lay the Dakota Access pipeline, to plant their greed, protect their investments, the stolen blood of the earth, scars stretching across our mother, scars from forcefully injected veins, these invasive species must be stopped by any means necessary, when i went to the front lines and looked into the police officers eyes there was nothing there, just a very intentional vacancy, a very intentional surrendered humanity, and this is just the watered down version of what the united snakes has done in other counties, dont blame your lack of participation in the cause on the distraction of elections, your hero obama is just sitting by watching this shit happen, choke tied and money gagged into silence, and the next president is only going to perpetuate the same state of hate and violence, how bout instead of voting our personal power away—we reclaim the true power inside us—look into our own peoples history to find the futures guidance, the time is now or never the time is now or never the time is now whether or not you feel prepared enough for this winter it has struck already, white and frozen and cold and windy, this shit is starting to look too much like the massacre at Wounded Knee, looks like we gotta stop quoting amendments, constitutions and civil liberties, cause the pilgrims dont honor those nor the agreements inside the treaties, nor the land its people nor their own muthafakin humanity, theyve taken our energy and mined it refined it into insanity, got them crackkkers in Bismarck exemplifying white privilege racisim to the young in their families, how can this be a reality we are born into continually? the blind sight and complacency everyone except the warriors surrendering collectively, but only worth a 20 second segment on news tv apparently, if it wasnt for those red warriors amerikkka would still be sheeping away happily, hopeully now you recognize that us Indigenous people STAY ON THE FRONTLINES ON THE DAILY, bullseyes on our backs made to feel like trespassers in our own hereditary lands and country, we on the frontlines as we walk down the city streets inside the crosshairs of police company, we on the frontlines of far too many deadly statistics as a result from a manifest destiny, ive been born only into pieces of me, them crackers took my peoples artifacts and language and thus attempted to take my story, but i am reclaiming the parts they tried to hide from me, rising from between the sky and sea with killerwhale fins and eagles wings, ancient songs from a horizon untwisting, we the ones reborn to rise up and shine like our relatives the sun and stars, eternally.

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