Native Land

9 Comments

Native Land

In the darkness where I live and move.
Where shadows have nothing to prove.
I see inside the empty stares;
Where no one loves and no one cares.
I’ve come to where I understand
the place of pain that was my Native Land.

Oh! Native Land so sweet my pain,
You've cleansed my soul with endless rain.
You kissed my lips, then gouged my eyes;
Made love to me where Dreamers die.
Alone, betrayed, ripped and scarred;
My joy was stolen; my heart was starved.

Oh! Native Land of hell’s own child
You've called my "normal ", insane and wild.
My pregnant soul, stillbirth begotten;
Was left behind and so soon forgotten.
Where in the darkness did dreams unfold;
Then slowly died and stank of mold.

There amongst the living dead
Vulgarities were lived not just said.
I found some strength deep down inside,
And saw it swell like the rising tide.
I pulled the weapon from its closet shelf.
Then next to my note I placed my wealth.

Oh! Native Land of hells untold,
As I dropped the note it did unfold.
It spoke my truths, my history
Of joy destroyed, of misery.
I cocked the hammer, so sweet its sound.
My freedom and release soon to be found.

Complete in silence I sat down to wait
While in curiosity did I anticipate.
Will it hurt? Or will time just pass?
Then a thunderous roar! – Ah, an end at last.
My Native Land I’ve left you behind
My birth so wrong; my end so kind.

“Here lies our son!”, the preacher cried.
Then praise was given by them who lied.
“We knew him well!” “We loved him so!”
On and on these liars go.
They smile, they laugh and they all shake hands;
But I have left them all in my Native Land.

The sun sets slowly on my Native Land.
Yet no one cares nor gives a damn!
But the unnoticed and forgotten ones
With blood-soaked beds and smoking guns;
Or jars of pills spilled on their floors,
Have also stumbled through these Gothic doors.

My neighbors here, escapees all;
Were idols once, but born to fall.
And the abused children and the battered wives
Or the deformed, the ugly and those with tortured lives;
We all are one; we understand,
The different hells of our Native Lands.

The End

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countrypoet commented on Native Land

01-03-2010

You have a remarkable talent for poetry and have created a very well written and thought provoking poem. My heart goes out to the Native Americans and all others,who are unnoticed and have endured much pain.I care deeply about others and would take away all of their pain and sadness if I could and replace it with happiness and peace.Thank you for sharing this memorable poem.

diva25 commented on Native Land

03-09-2009

this is well written

Maskwa commented on Native Land

03-04-2009

Amazing! Thank you.

mla commented on Native Land

02-11-2009

Writing from a position of torture is painful. Hope all is well.

sandig commented on Native Land

02-03-2009

Brilliant!!!!

Poetry comes nearer to vital truth than history.

Plato (BC 427-BC 347) Greek philosopher.

JEAGLEFEATHER’s Poems (25)

Title Comments
Title Comments
Darkly Shines MY Sun 2
The Death Of Reason 22
It's Down To This 18
Another Drunkard's Attempt At Thinking 11
Solitary 4
Black, White or Other 7
Are You In The Mirror? 5
Life As It Is 4
Pieces Of Diety 34
Dream Me Dark 6
Happiness Ellusive 2
Among Smoke And Ash 4
In Quiet Do I Awake 2
In Silence Do I Answer 6
Down By The Darkside 2
The Summer Of Cassandra 3
Native Land 9
Your Best Friend 3
Rimbaud In A Dream 1
Rivers Of Memory OR Lost In Time 3
I Once Happy 3
I Awoke Dead 6
Comin Of The Rain 6
Four AM And A Cup Of Coffee 6
Life Is Just Waiting To Die 13