Geronimo Guitar
by Daryl Dazen Art
DARYLDAZEN@GMAIL.COM

“Geronimo Plays A Guitar”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

Geronimo plays a guitar,
Not his gun.
He says “Why do you complain?
You’re in Eden my son”

Geronimo plays a guitar,
Not his gun.
He says “Life is hard,
But also a lot of fun”.

Geronimo plays a guitar,
Not his gun.
He says “All God’s children,
Are Royal under the scattered sun”.

“Apache Nation”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

Apache Nation,
Your sacred land.
Was stolen,
From your very hand.

You have to follow,
The white man’s rules.
And be treated,
Like some villain fools.

White man praying, at his knees,
Yes, he can “pray”.
Slaughter any Indian,
That comes his way.

He claims he is,
The man of God.
But all he wants,
Is Apache blood.

That is the brutal,
Methods and ways.
He himself,
Knows what to “praise”.

Smear the name,
Of Apache, and Eden.
I wonder who is,
The true evil pagan?

God knows that.

“Each Time The Coyote Calls”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

Each time the coyote calls,
An Apache is robbed,
And down he falls,
To the ground.

The sound of my fallen people,
make my fight,
For the light of day.

That is how I pray,
For Havasupai,
Apache,
And all Natives,
Of America.

Stand up,
Against the howling wind.

The Apache voice,
Is the strongest of them all.

Can’t you hear the coyote calls,
The words of the wind,
Which speak the name,
Of a true warrior.

Geronimo.

“The Trail of Tears”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

In my eagle eyes,
You can see spears.
Which will fight the present,
Trail of tears.

When will the killing,
Of Indians end?
Until their Eden,
Will never mend,
Again?

How do you dare,
To kill Adam and Eve.
The Devil’ talk,
Is up your sleeve.

What did you do?
Where did you trod?
The so-called Christian,
Man of God.

How dare you make,
Women, children, elders cry?
You should fear,
The day you die.

Then God will say,
You invented death and fears.
You legacy will be,
The trail of tears.

Every word,
That Jesus said.
Will strike you twice,
It has been said.

Stop the trail of tears.

“Why?”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

A face came out of the mist,
It Is Geronimo.

He speaks in a way,
You cannot avoid.

He says why do you pollute,
Your vision of Eden?

He cannot see the meaning,
Of white man’s deeds,
Talking God,
But walking The Devil.

It makes no sense.

Tell me why your evil nature,
Has to nourish your evil deeds?

Geronimo believes in the human race,
But why does the white man,
Use his mind,
Only for evil,
In a degree no one else does,
At Mother Earth

Why?

Answer the wind,
Geronimo will listen.

You speak,
Now.

“Entering The Plains”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

For years I had a vision,
I dreamed.

I was entering the plains,
Of green grass,
There were laughing tribal women.
Happy children,
Proud men,
Wise elders,
Who know,
How to use the inner,
Arrow and bow,
The wisdom of the tribe.

This is the Apache Nation,
No train station here,
Only a divine playground,
Of The Creator,
In the natural elements,
Of true life.

“Ghost Words”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

Ghost Words are here,
They dance without fear.

The spirit of all there is,
Shows the ways of bliss,
Eternity gives you a kiss.

That is the main goal,
Of Ghost Words.

Ghost dance,
Is equal to Ghost Words.

Waking up the spirits,
From the present and past,
Heading for a divine future,
Under the Havasupai,
And Apache sun.

Geronimo and Burro,
Will come back,
And erase sorrow.

They are united in a tribal one,
Of two.

Unity.
Universe,
In Ghost Words.

“An Apache Vision”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

An Apache Vision,
Is likely to be.
The only thing,
That will set you free.

It will free you from greed,
You will feel the freedom of the bead,
Planting the seed.

Nature calls,
Geronimo listens,
And responds,
He is planting the seed,
Of An Apache Vision,
In the Apache mind.

The ancient hills,
The Holy grounds,
Discovered yet again,
The divine feelings,
Become a friend,
In a world that will never end.

An Apache Vision.

“I Saw Bill”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

I saw Bill,
In a vision,
At the top of a sacred hill,
It gave me a chill,
But then I felt a thrill,
He is at good will.

He is an Apache,
A soulful brother in the west,
With a bow and arrow,
Within his chest.

He means his serious vision,
Has to come,
To open the eyes,
The light will come,
For every daughter and son,
Of Mother Earth.

People are sleeping,
Fast asleep.
Fight like Bill,
From the deep.

Make your way,
Every time you pray,
With dawn comes day.

Maybe that will come our way.

A true Apache,
Speaks with his tongue,
Of eternity.

He knows life is closer,
Than life itself.

That is the ways of The Creator,
He understands it.

For sure.
You are pure.

If I ever became your,
Brother of vision.

I will fight for The Apache ways,
I do my fight, and you do yours.

But two fires united,
Are twice as strong.

I know The Ghost Dance,
This time it is written,
In dancing poetry,
Sneaking within,
The crooked souls of evil,
Modern men.

Apache Nation will grow,
I know.

“An Angry Geronimo,

And An Even More Angry God”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

I see anger in the right eye,
Of Geronimo.
I see an even more angry God,
In the left eye of Geronimo.

Geronimo was angry at his fate,
He did hate,
The murderers of his family,
And they also killed his Garden of Eden.

God was in full blown rage,
Seeing a historical visionary man,
Of future,
Getting his beautiful dreams,
Murdered,
Because in the name of God,
They spilled Adam and Eve’s blood.

The left Eye of Geronimo,
Speaks for itself.
The right eye,
Was killed.

The left eye says,
Wrath of God,
Will punish killers of Eden.

Do not challenge The Creator,
Evil modern man.

You blew it,
You have blown the trumpet,
A salute,
Of the evil modern man’s death.

Playing with his money and pride,
The evil deeds, that killed the Indians.

Geronimo speaks,
God speaks,
In the united eyes,
In a picture of dreams.

I see,
An Angry Geronimo,
And an even more angry God,
Have spoken,
In a timeless picture,
Of a present living Apache.

“My Home”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

Supai Village,
Is my home.
But I do like to roam,
With The Apache.

Burro and Geronimo,
Speak in the plains.
Freedom of The Creator,
Softly He reigns.

Fields of Eden,
Open to dream.
Vast is the vision,
Of this theme.

I do approach you my friends,
Apache and Havasupai.
You show me that life,
Will never die.

Forever you are,
To roam,
In my home,
In my heart.

“Ghost Dance of Geronimo”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

I am going to wake up,
The ancestors, one by one.
It is dawn my friends,
Hear the chanting of the sun.

Geronimo will rise,
In a way of forever.
This time he is immortal,
I did know he did never,
Die,
Feel a sigh,
And, fly,
In your mind of Ghost Dance

Geronimo did rise,
Into The Paradise,
Of reunion,
In his Garden of Eden.

Never more to fade,
Never more in the shade,
He has finally made,
His voice to be heard.

Thunder in the mountains,
Apache Nation,
has come home.

Thanks to Ghost Dance, of Geronimo.

“Ghost of Geronimo”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

Ghost of Geronimo,
Sweeps through humanity,
At a certain moment of time.

He will open the eyes,
Of the blind.

He will show us the inner Eden,
By approaching this realm,
By recognizing the outer Eden,
With reverence.

Ghost of Geronimo,
Is the invisible light,
Of eternity.

Three persons,
Fight for the light.
Jesus Christ, Jim Morrison,
And Geronimo.

In their own unique ways,
They tell the same story,
Of hope.

The Garden of Eden.

“Jesus, Jim Morrison,

Geronimo Got Something”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

Jesus, Jim Morrison, Geronimo,
Got something up their sleeve.
The Promised Land,
For Adam and Eve.

A dawning morning,
For every child, woman, elder and man.
A forevergreen playground,
Where dreams become real, divine and grand.

Where rivers streams sing,
And mountains do call.
We finally made it,
After all.

Where all is one,
And nature make the rules.
All wears beads,
And their eyes are like jewels.

They bow for Jesus,
They listen to him.
But they also take notice,
Of Geronimo and Jim.

These three people-rivers,
Will be married to one.
And the sun will speak out,
Kingdom has come.

Barefeet we play in the grass,
We feel all that we are in.
This is a vision,
And one day, it will begin.

The wind carries his voice,
Can you hear it?

“Apache Soulfate”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

The fate of an Apache soul,
Apache soulfate.

This landscape,
Of the inner plains,
Will conquer the outer fields,
Where the buffalo once did roam.

I hear the wind whisper,
Lay down hate,
Pick up fate,
Soulmate.

Apache soulfate,
Is to travel back,
To yesterday’s tomorrow,
The new ancient lifestyle,
Of a blessed Apache.

Whole,
Soul.

“A Vicious Bite”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

The man was white,
He came in the night,
He killed the dawning light,
And gave Adam and Eve,
A vicious bite.
The Apache had fever,
But did fight,
He might,
Would win,
Over this white man,
Of sin.
Who claims he follows,
The words of God.
But it is unheard,
That the white man,
Killed every bird of hope.

Now,
Centuries later.
It all has come to an end,
With pollution and hatred.

Evilness should fear,
The spear,
Of God.

He will return,
And protect The Apache Nation.

Adam and Eve will heal,
From the vicious bite.

“Your Drums, Forever”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

Your drums,
Forever.

Do not be terrified,
That your drums will be silenced,
Havasupai and Apache Nation.

The sun got my back.

Therefore I am strong,
And filled with energy.

I will fight for your drums.

My vision of fight,
Is simply back to your Arizona Eden.

I know the path of the sun,
I know The Creator’s song.

His silence in the sky,
Will make you feel your rivers,
Of spirits,
Flowing through the camp.

Again sitting around the bonfire,
And Everybody,
Will hear your drums,
Forever.

“I Flew To Apache Nation”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

I was in Supai,
But suddenly I turned,
Into an eagle.

All people saw me,
And observed the joy,
Of my freedom,
Being an eagle.

I flew to Apache Nation.
I wanted to hang out with the Apache.

I told them in a gesture of love,
And told them.
Even though I came from Havasupai,
I enjoy the company of Apache.

I got Apache friends,
I told them it is a song,
That never ends.

The Apache voice,
Was manifested in Geronimo’s soul.

He was hurt,
But it was important,
To paint a picture,
Of his possible Eden,
He fought for.

I fight with him,
For Eden.

“Apache Speaks Through Times”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

Apache speaks through times,
Of forever.

You will never fade,
Because true souls never fade.

You speak the language,
Of the spirit winds.

You refer to the wind,
When you share your wisdom.

You hear voices in the mountains.

You speak the language,
That is written in the stars.

When you speak,
I listen.

You are the ones that live,
Closest to The Creator.

One day they will listen to you,
Because they all have to.

You know the ways Apache.

“The Edenkick”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

The modern man ain’t got,
The Edenkick within his heart.
Yes, for sure he sees Eden,
That life, Eden, is an enormous miracle,
But he does not feel it.

He ain’t got the Edenkick.

Imagine Chief Burro,
Or Geronimo.

Imagine what they did feel.

They both had the Edenkick,
But it was messed up,
Basically by the white man.

No modern man,
Got the Edenkick,
Like Chief Burro and Geronimo did have.

People are Living too fast,
And they are too scared,
And too scarred by the world.

The only way to regain,
The Edenkick,
Is through tribal living.

Seeing the created in a way,
That is religious,
And seeing fellow tribal members bloom,
That will give you all,
The Edenkick.

Paradise is lost,
Because of the lack,
Of The Edenkick.

Ask the Apache,
Ask the Havasupai.

They heard tales about the Edenkick,
And some of them feel it,
Totally alone,
Next to a stone cold heart,
Of the white man’s way of life.

Is everybody in?
Let the Edenkick begin.

“The True People of The Creator”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

The true people of The Creator,
Are stationed in Eden of Arizona.

Havasupai and Apache Nation,
Did know the ways of celebration.

This forever deep joy vanished,
But once in a while it speaks,
Through the people of The Creator.

Revive,
Alive,
This is the glimpse of Eden,
That will grow into,
A realm of pure inner,
And outer adventures.

I will do my best,
To nourish,
Your Garden of Eden.

I am all yours.

The eagle watches over you.
You might not believe it,
But this eagle lives,
in the land of spirits.

Feel him,
You will not see him.

But by the time he will manifest,
Like a visible spirit-face in the sky,
A sigh,
Will go through the people,
Of Havasupai and Apache Nation.

You will say with your spirits,
I knew we were right.

The proof,
Has become true,
In the sky so blue,
For you,
And me too.

Thanks to the path,
Of Chief Burro and Geronimo.

You are.

“The Voice of An Apache”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

The voice of an Apache,
Resonates in all.
His silence speaks forever,
In a vision he does call.

Calling out for Eden.
The arrow and the bow.
Seeing his eternal actions,
In every eternal now.

This mountain he does conquer,
Is in your wildest dreams.
It is like an eternal drama,
Truthfully, likely it seems.

This is not only a voice,
Of a distant warrior of peace.
He grabs you by the soul,
Saying “Now you got to seize.”.

The Creator sent this dream,
In your sleepy darkened night.
Soon thy dawn of morning,
Will shine like glorious light.

Absorb this vision fellow,
You have to, or you will die.
An Apache speaks in silence,
He says “Hello, erase good-bye”.

“Geronimo’s Eternal

Hunting Ground”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

Geronimo is free forever,
In The Eternal Hunting Ground.
He’s got his family,
And Apache’s, all around.

He can fly like an arrow,
Ride every horse.
Stop whenever he wants,
And drink from the source.

The Creator is given,
To Geronimo’s soul.
Because he was natural,
Not a part of a false role.

He defended Eden,
Which white-eye does kill.
He saw the mountain was sacred,
Not only a hill.

He took care of the elders,
Which white-eye does not.
The Creator always remember,
Sins that white-eye “forgot”.

Geronimo protected his land,
In his sacred rhymes.
The white-eye does drain it,
And creates uranium mines.

So, the conclusion is simple,
Who did the sin?
Will The Creator,
Let any destroyer of Eden in?

“Beyond The Mountains”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

Beyond the mountains,
Geronimo heard a voice.
You are a legend,
I leave you no choice.

The bullets won’t hit you.
Arrows will miss.
The sun will protect you,
And give you a kiss.

You will go on,
After you die.
Your “craziness”,
Will undress every lie.

The lies of tomorrow,
You fought today.
The Creator responded,
When you did pray.

You will rise again,
As the mountains spoke truth.
Protect the elders,
Because they made the youth.

Your vision was blurry,
Said the liar of all.
One day all will listen,
And heed your every call.

“Comforted by Geronimo”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

I know Geronimo,
Is close he is near.
I feel his spirit,
Floats around here.

He whispers in my ear,
I know you are the same.
Just like me fighting,
With your Eden-flame.

I see your tears my son,
The same tears I have cried.
But they broke me down,
And I died.

Listen my son,
Never give up.
Your words flow like rivers,
From the mountain top.

Your tears will nourish,
And make them understand.
That Eden lies within,
Every woman and man.

You will share it,
Every soul of spell.
And save the listener,
From his Hell.

So, you got to rise,
For the Native Americans in the night.
You have to share,
Your eternal invisible light,

You carry my name,
With an understanding of all.
Finally one who hears,
My true Eden-call,
Of pain,
That made me insane.

Comforted by Geronimo,
I take you by the word.
I looked out my window,
And saw an invisible bird.

“A Pure Tribute To Geronimo”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

You lived under the sun,
You woke up at dawn,
But saw the setting-sun feast,
Turned into a bloody evening,
A black hole night.

I honer you for fighting,
The evil-eyed,
Killer of Eden.

Yes, I see your violent deeds,
But I also see your freedom beads.

Jim Morrison wore them,
I do wear the bead,
Because I did heed,
The call of your people,
That still lingers in the invisible air,
Of spirits.

I do it with you Goyone (Geronimo),
I do it for you Goyone.
I sure do,
It is true,
It didn’t just come out,
Of the blue.

This tribute was handed to me,
From the past,
Which wanted Eden to last.
It said heal fast.

A tribute to you Adam,
You are a Child of The Creator,
Goyone,
Forever,
Never forget Geronimo.

Never, ever forget him.

“Apache Tear”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

I hold you close,
You are so dear.
I will dry your every,
Apache tear.

I see you suffer,
It hurts my heart.
I will try to support you,
With my persona and art.

But it is extremely sad,
To see you flat on the ground.
No energy left,
You make no sound.

My dear Apache,
The sun is not gone.
One day he will show,
The place you are from.

You are an ecstasy child,
Riding the plains.
With Eden flowing,
Through your veins.

That is you Apache.

That is you,
It is true,
I know,
And will show.

“The Apache Sun”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

The Apache sun,
Did come to pass.
But the forevergreen grass recall all,
Its Eden glory it can bring,
Back to life.

Dear Apache,
Revive The Apache Sun.

See the fields bring eternal joy,
In your brief lives of being humans.

Look at The Apache Sun,
You are the first,
To experience,
The rebirth,
Of your Garden of Eden.

Geronimo called you out,
To dare to live naked,
Under The Apache Sun.

Remember all starts with,
The Apache,
Under,
The Apache Sun.

“Geronimo Rising”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

Geronimo Rising,
He chased the sun.
At speed of soul,
He could run.

He captured the spirit,
Of the man in the sky.
A place he will travel,
When he dies.

Dancing in the symbol,
of a daytime child.
He spoke so softly,
Even though he was “wild”.

He climbed the sky,
At his very point surprising.
A visionary was born,
It was Geronimo Rising.

He rose in the desert,
With an oasis mind.
He could stare at the sun,
Without going blind.

Dawn is coming,
Thanks to the “insane”.
Indian dancing,
Without any chains.

But he was captured,
Put in a jail.
Jesus too,
Knows the way of the nail.

Geronimo Rising,
Bless him forever God
His legend will grow,
The fate says I nod.

“I Am Going To Embody

The Ghost Dance”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

I am going to embody,
The Ghost Dance.

I am going to fill Indian bodies,
With a fire soul,
To fight for their Eden.

It has gone too far white-eye,
Mirror yourselves,
And you will see pure evil,
In your actions of coma.

The sun got a soul,
Dance in its light,
Of forever,
The Ghost Dance revival of soul,
Is here again..

Enough is enough,
Of this “progress” of modern man.

Our roots are dried out,
The trees do not bear fruits,
Of past, present and tomorrow.

Embody the Ghost Dance Apache Nation,
Embody the Ghost Dance Havasu Baaja.

I am here,
They fear my every flaming word,
Because I know the wordless world,
Beyond all there is.

And that knowledge will start,
The Ghost Dance.

Amen.

“Firewater”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

The white-eye,
Offered firewater,
To the sons and daughters,
Of the sun.

The slaughter,
Came with his sneaky,
Firewater.

Firewater is evil,
It does the deeds of destroying,
The Apaches tomorrow,
Leaves a trail,
Of pain and sorrow.

I see the present Apache Nation,
I take it personally,
How you have been treated.

I am a friend of The Hawk,
He showed me the destroyed people,
And lands,
Of Eden.

As an eagle I cry,
In the sky,
Because Apaches do die,
Sadly it is a tragedy,
You cannot deny.

But dear friend Apache,
Can’t you see there is one star in the sky,
It shines through all,
Can you hear it calls.

It says,
Give fate some time,
And the rhyme,
Of yours will be songs,
Around an ancient bonfire,
Of tomorrow.

Forget the firewater,
It is an evil river,
Of pain.

The true firewater,
Is the Apache soul.

“Imagine Geronimo”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

Imagine Geronimo,
Running over the fields,
In the speed of all.

Feeling the rush,
Of Eden.
Feeling the crush,
Of Eden

Being one with God,
God is inside Geronimo.
Imagine that.

The ecstasy of total,
Eternal joy.

We cannot imagine it,
We are too far away from Eden,
Even to sense a glimpse,
Of Geronimo’s Eden.

But one day we will listen,
To the spirit of Goyone (Geronimo),
And he will show us
The wind within the wind,
Inside of us.

“Remember The Future Apache”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

Remember the future Apache,
In the land of Geronimo.
Where present is gone,
But comes back to the moment of now.

Remember the future Apache,
Filled with a happy Goyone (Geronimo)
His ancestors,
Carry his name,
In the winds of forever.

Remember the future Apache
Where all steps,
Are Taken out of the wisdom,
Of the Apaches.

Remember the future Apache,
Where the whole day,
Is a prayer of reverence,
And the dances of the night,
Bring new visions,
For the eternal future,
Of the Apache Nation.

“An Apache Flute”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

In my dreams of tomorrow,
I heard her flute.
An Apache woman ,
She was strong, but cute.

I am humble though,
I know my powerful core.
She was impressed,
By me, for sure.

I took her hand,
In a gentle way.
Told her stories,
About the break of day.

I said dawn will come,
The prophecy will be fulfilled.
The returning of all the Apaches,
Who were brutally killed.

You started a vision,
In my mind my dear.
When I heard your flute,
You took me there.

To a place where dreams,
Are born and raised.
In the mind of a white-eye,
Which life has praised.

I give you my all,
I will risk my own life.
To fight for the Apaches,
Forever my wife.

So take my hand,
My beloved friend.
I will take you on a journey,
That will never end.

“I Met Geronimo”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

I met Geronimo,
In my Crazy Norse mind.
I looked at the sun,
Without going blind.

I saw the truth,
We all had by hand.
Being destroyed,
By the evil man.

But then I had,
The strangest dream.
Geronimo came,
And showed me the scene.

He showed me it all,
I was given a role.
To explain to the world,
That it got a soul.

To treat it like,
A child of God.
Grow up God’s children,
You have spilled enough blood.

So, take Geronimo’s dream,
By hand my friend.
Geronimo showed me,
A world without any end.

“Geronimo’s Spirit”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

Geronimo’s spirit,
Came out of a tent.
It was his home of love,
With a non-existing rent.

He showed me it all,
In a most high dream.
I absorbed his every,
Word of beam.

He talked about freedom,
In his vision of all.
He said Ghost Dance,
We have to heed its call.

It is a fight for Eden,
Every son and daughter.
A fight for nature,
And the eternal water.

Geronimo’s spirit,
Spoke in the sky.
His every word,
Did kill every lie.

Just a “Crazy Norse”vision,
My literal friend.
Thanks to Geronimo’s spirit,
Life will never end.

Indian spring, summer,
Fall and winter.
The cycle of four,
Forever.

“An Apache Arrow”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

An Apache arrow,
Can hit anything, like this.
It got an ancient precision,
It will never miss.

Because they are the warriors,
Masters of their mind.
They know their targets,
Apaches are not blind.

Fight my brothers Apaches,
We share the same old sun.
Your precision will one day,
Make the Kingdom come.

“Goyone’s Indian Summer”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

A betrayal of eternity,
Yeah, there was something he took.
Geronimo’s life, God’s Adam,
Thanks to the evil deeds,
Of General George Crook.

Crook hung around in Eden,
But he was The Devil’s Man himself.
He killed for his only God,
Yes, he surely went straight to Hell.

The Apaches they followed goodness,
Like the God of Crook did too.
But the betrayal did reach its peak,
When Crook killed the Eden’s sky,
So blue.

They made Jesus deeds, on the prairie,
This is what the Apaches mostly did do.
But the twisted mind of white-eye,
He seems to kill all that is true.

So, Geronimo, Goyone, your spirit,
You will one day feel at rest.
When you see your Indian Summers,
Which also one white-eye,
Loved the best.

That we meet in the summer

Goyone’s (Geronimo’s) Indian summer.

“Trumpets of White-eye”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

Trumpets of white-eye,
Got a sound of the end.
Geronimo tried to stop it,
He tried it all to heal and mend.

Geronimo’s realm,
Was poisoned by soul.
White-eye dug the earth,
He wanted something called gold.

The holy hills,
The holy plants.
White-eye killed it all,
And forbid all chants.

He wanted a suit,
For the Apache of God.
He wanted to erase the soul,
In the Indian’s blood.

He wanted to school you,
To play a trumpet by sound
And kill everything,
That lived all around.

I heard a voice,
As I wrote in the sky.
White-eye seems,
To let everything die.

The last hope,
The last chance.
Is to embody all souls,
Through The Ghost Dance.

“Just Like In Paradise”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

Havasupai and Apache,
Lived just like In Paradise.
Columbus’ interfered.
And they payed the price.

The eagle of Eden,
Is still in the sky.
But he seen too much suffering,
He mourns, in sadness, to cry.

Havasupai and Apache,
Remember the days.
Where the eagle of joy,
Showed you the ways.

The ways of loving,
Which The Great Spirit wrote.
In the air of the flying,
But then came a boat.

The boat of sorrow,
The true pagan mind.
Walked the “Turtle-land” brutal,
Moved fast, but he was blind.

He destroyed all that grew,
Praised all that sunk.
Now Eden of forever,
Is filled with only junk.

What is the word,
Look at the sky.
Then look into the eyes,
Of Apache and Havasupai.

Listen and learn,
from the Native Americans..

Then again we all will earn,
A place,
Just like in Paradise.

“Dream of Jim Morrison”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

Dream of Jim Morrison,
He passed his dream,
Of The Indian Summer,
To me.

He saw the beauty,
Of spiritual nakedness.
Gladness,
To replace sadness,
And madness.

The Indian way,
Is the only way.

He made me aware of that.

I became aware of Havasupai,
And Apache Nation,
My lovers of life.

Jim Morrison,
Fought for Indians,
His words,
Embraced,
Your Garden of Eden.

He saw you,
But his vision was lost,
In evil resistance.

I bring forth his vision,
I do present,
His present,
Of wise worlds of words.

These words,
Will lead all Indians,
Into a vision,
Of The Ghost Dance,
In his trance,
Of poetry.

I fight his fight,
For you Havasupai,
And Apache Nation.

He danced among Indians,
Their spirits attended,
All of his on or off stage,
Performances.

He was holy,
He had a holy vision,
Of a forever Eden.

A state we all are meant,
To be in.

Dance around the bonfire,
Tell sweet lies of fun,
And do deeds of The Great Spirit,
Under the sun.

Vision of Jim Morrison,
Is the vision of me,
For you only.

Havasu Baaja,
And Apache Nation.

“Dream of a Crazy Norse”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

Through my Ghost Dance,
I am going, to pick up the trail.
Bring justice for Goyone (Geronimo),
Release him from jail.

These ghosts of his people,
Will fly to become real.
Apaches will take back their dignity,
Which the white-eye did steal.

I am going to make,
The ancestors become alive.
They will again roam free,
It has been taking a while.

Since we rode our horses,
Felt a rush in our veins.
See endless of visions,
In the infinite plains.

The plains of an Apache,
His own to be.
I am just a Crazy Norse,
That will set all Apaches free.

“Do Not Worry Havasupai

and Apaches”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

Do not worry,
Havasupai and Apaches.

You all cry when you see,
The setting sun
But listen my tribes,
The dawn has begun.

In the same horizon,
The sun is setting,
There will rise an infinite sun,
Of dawn,
It is the same sun that is setting,
Which turns into your Indian dawn.

The dawn for your people.

You might not believe it,
At this very moment of time.
But there is a hidden agenda,
In my every Indian rhyme.

The small will grow,
The seeds have been sown.
You will get back,
All the adventures you have known.

The adventures of the fields,
The adventures given,
By The Great Spirit.

Do not worry,
I know the ways,
Of the path to the days,
Of the dawning day,
Of the soon coming of the tomorrow,
Of Eden.

“Everything White-eye

Says Is a Lie”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

Everything white-eye says,
Is a lie.
All he touches,
Does brutally die.

He betrays Jesus,
Kills the Garden of God.
His rivers are filled,
With poison and blood.

His conscience does,
Not exist.
He beats the souls of his children,
With an iron-fist.

He humiliates the elders,
Schools every child.
He is The Devil himself,
That has gone totally wild.

Just look at God’s nature,
Who did those deeds?
It was not the Indians,
With their chanting and beads.

How dare you pray white-eye,
While you kill God’s Earth?
These deeds are printed in us,
From our very birth.

Wake up tomorrow,
But start with today.
Follow Jesus Christ,
And the Indian way.

Everything white-eye says,
Is a lie.
You have to listen to the Apaches,
And Havasupai,

Then you all will survive.

Amen.

“Horizon”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

I look at the Apache horizon,
The horizon of Havasupai too.
They both do trust the eagle,
That came out of the blue.

This eagle he is nameless,
But all does know his name.
He comforts Havasupai and Apache,
I will protect your flame.

This flame was found in the ancient,
Pristine and Eden-like times.
But modern man made progress,
With a vision of only crimes.

The eagle says the horizon,
Shows a glimpse of harmony.
Where Indians will live their lives,
Their lives of eternity.

The vision of the eagle,
Took form up in the sky.
He watches you forever,
Dear Apache and Havasupai.

Soon you will rest,
In a sign,
Of an eagle’s vision.

“This Is Eden”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

How can you look,
Geronimo or Burro in the eye?
When you see their fields of Eden,
Are raped, abused to die.

How can you bare,
To kill the butterfly?
That once was an Indian,
He is now, left in the dirt to die.

This is Eden,
At your bare feet.
You kill the grass and the flowers,
Paving your own street.

What about us,
That still got a soul?
Are you going to throw us,
In a dungeon hole?

I look at the stars,
I have to become.
My fight for Earth songs,
Like a son of the sun.

Does anybody care anymore,
About the beauty destroyed by all?
They are building houses in Eden,
That are hundred floors tall.

I know why Geronimo,
Went to war for The Garden.
I know why Burro gave up,
And did cry then.

Take my actions,
You will notice my words.
I will fight forever,
For both of God’s worlds.

The Garden of Eden,
And the fields of forever,
In the sky.
Apache and Havasupai.

“I Bow Down To Apache 

and Havasupai”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

I bow down,
To Apache and Havasupai.
I look up,
And I say thanks to the sky.

I have searched for Eden,
Many fields I have trod.
But in Apache and Havasupai,
I finally found God.

Their eyes of tomorrow,
Coming out of their past.
Thanks to their visions and wisdom.
Eden will last.

They look at the sky,
They see more than the blue.
They know The Creator’s,
Prophesies are true.

So, one day their visions,
Will pave the way.
To Eden’s dawn my friend,
There will come a day.

And I pray,
With Apache Nation,
And Havasupai,
For this to become true,
For me and you.

“Jim Morrison and Geronimo“

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

Jim Morrison and Geronimo,
Were both a Creator’s child.
They both did fight for an eternal Eden,
They both did fight crazy and wild.

They felt a heartache in their being,
That was devastated into dust.
They wanted to be more than an icon,
A statue or a just a graveyard bust.

They wanted God back,
In the Garden of all.
They fought and resistance will rise,
Even though they both did fall.

Because of their fight,
It will affect the current minds.
Wake up the cities, to recall Eden,
Give eyes to the humanity, so blind.

They both heard voices,
That soon will resonate.
They both are created to enter minds,
And heal humanity’s fate.

Showing People Eden,
In every beautiful way.
They will win with their vision,
To be yours one blissful day.

“Replacement of

The White-eyed Soul“

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

All white-eye stuff, made,
Are for the most,
Replacement of the White-eyed soul.
He fills up his soul’s desires,
With materialistic things,
Put them into,
An unstoppable leaking hole,
In the ground,
To never to be filled,
Or fulfilled.

He makes no sounds,
Machines make his voice.
He killed the eagle,
Because it made a noise,
The eagle envisioned his choice,
Of physical inventions,
As utterly stupidity,
That white-eye bragged about.
White-eye did shout,
I know the best,
I am the west.
The end,
Of his soul,
In his chest.

Yeah, white-eye knows,
All about nothing.

The newborn eagle,
Threatens white-eyed,
Evil, black inventions.

The eagle sees what he sees,
He feels what he feels,
He is free,
That is enough,
To be.

The air is only the air,
You need a pair of wings,
That is all you need.
Your beads of freedom.

Indian,
Fly like an eagle.
Fly with an eagle.

The Ghost Dance in the sky,
Has returned to Mother Earth.

The rebirth of the true People.

Indians,
My fellow Apache,
My fellow Havasupai.
The vision of the eagle,
Will never die,
Soon all the People will fly.

Amen.

“I Heard The Voice of Geronimo“

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

I heard the voice of Geronimo,
In the mountains within my heart.
It whispered to me the secret words,
A revolution you will start.

I came and found out after centuries,
You got a soul I got to seize.
That you can fulfill an Apache’s vision,
A world of Indians living at peace.

The invisible mountains my dearest son,
You can feel them deep inside.
Guide the People of the world,
To unite like a strong Indian tribe.

Then laughter and the beautiful stories,
Will manifest forever my son.
And all the People under the sun,
Will make love and act like one,
People.

“Geronimo Said Apache

Will Live“

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

Geronimo said,
Apache will live.
This in a promise,
Time soon will give.

They mock our people,
Which they tried to kill.
But they cannot see,
The man on the hill.

This man got a power,
Invisible for an eye.
But you can feel his spirit,
Which never did die.

He invades your soul,
Unstoppable like God.
He points at the spirit,
Within your blood.

Once upon a time,
My people were proud.
You can hear Geronimo,
In the thunder so loud.

He speaks with words,
In decades unsaid.
His dream of Eden,
Is not dead.

Because in every Apache,
There will be a rebirth.
They will get back the fields,
On Mother Earth.

Again they will roam,
Their children will run.
Learn to ride horses,
Under the sun.

Nature will be nature,
As it always shall be.
The vision of Geronimo,
Will set freedom free.

“San Pedro Valley“

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

White-eye builds houses,
In San Pedro valley.
He dreamed of high buildings,
And a beautiful alley.

Apache did question,
Why do they come?
They steal our land,
Under our holy sun.

Apache sees it spreads,
Like a wildfire in the grass.
White-eye occupies,
All the land he can grasp.

The Creator is not happy,
Neither the Apache tribes.
In San Pedro Valley,
Their own untouched Paradise.

Apache has to let go,
Of all the beautiful he knew.
White-eye killed Apache,
Until they were only a few,
Left.

But times can change,
The Apache thought for himself.
Future, please carry us,
Through this living Hell.

“How Dare You Slaughter

Adam and Eve?“

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

How dare you,
Slaughter Adam and Eve?
Pretend that you Got Jesus,
Up your sleeve.

I know Jesus for sure,
His Holy Eternal name.
You bring him down for what?
Your actions of evil shame.

Geronimo cried to Heaven,
You laughed at his every tear.
When you killed his family white-eye,
You left behind you just fear.

Jesus he was nature,
Indians were his love.
He shone upon them blissful,
Like the sun did from up above.

His words spread over the land,
But suddenly he did leave.
The memory of his presence,
Lingers in Adam and Eve.

So beware white-eye,
Of the evil deeds you have done.
Everything has been noticed,
By God and his Sacred Son.

“First Hand“

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

I know white-eye friends,
First hand too, I guess.
His finances are in order,
But his spirit is a mess.

He treats the weak and the elders,
He wants them to truly die.
I have lost respect for my people,
I am Apache and Havasupai.

Because the weak holds the key,
Elders too as well.
They do own the wisdom,
But they send them straight to Hell.

Look at the elders in daytime,
Only the sun does see their souls.
The hip modern white-eye,
Doesn’t understand that he’ll be old.

It’s stupidity in the highest,
Level of evilness.
These words will tell the truth,
A truth that will undress.

What did happen to Indians,
We once all were one.
No one seems to care about others,
Under the Indian sun.

So, I just point my finger,
Towards Apache, Havasupai.
Take a note of all of their wisdom,
Before you get old, and die.

“It Seems like“

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

It seems like, it’s evident,
That Apache and Havasupai.
Understand my every word,
My words don’t just pass them by.

They see my truth,
Behind every word I say.
This is reality folks,
Dawning today.

I start a wildfire,
Through my Indian friends.
They will spread my words,
About that true life never ends.

This is the meaning,
That I will come your way.
You cannot stop the dawn,
No matter what you do or say.

You cannot stop, the vision,
Of an Indian on his horse.
These eyes are glowing,
He is in the midst of a force.

This force is powerful,
But it leads you too be kind.
You will see Mother Nature,
It gives eyes to the blind.

An Indian stands,
In the middle of it all.
Other Indians will follow,
When this leader does call.

Calling for war,
From visions in the night.
Bring tribal justice,
Into the light.

For the only who sees,
Is an Indian who has come.
In a vision of dreams,
That is born inside the sun.

My Indian friends,
Do see every white-eyed lie.
They rather listen to the Indian,
Thanks to my Apaches and Havasupai.

This Indian comes from the dark,
Envisioned in holy light.
It started with Jim Morrison,
Who said: “The day destroys the night”.

So, here is a vision,
Brought into light by Crazy Norse.
I got the keys, my friends,
That will unlock all of your doors.

“The Language of All Indians“

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

When you speak,
The language of all Indians,
You say no words,
But fly like the birds,
With your spirit,
Under The Creator’s Sky,
Sailing The Great Spirit winds.
Like the ones of Apache and Havasupai.

These tribal minds of Indians,
Are listening,
To the spoken words,
Of the wind.

It is not a sin,
To live in harmony,
With nature.

We have an opportunity,
Like no other,
Forever we will be.

We are standing In front,
Of the Gates of Eden.

Look at the invisible souls,
Of Apache and Havasupai,
Go beyond the deep,
Trails of their souls,
It’s boundless,
And you will see their souls,
With the blind eye,
Which does see all the realms,
That belong to eternity.

This is the forgotten life,
To be remembered.

Become an Indian again,
My friend.
Then life will never end.

“Reality“

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

I was on the edge,
Of going to sleep.
Then I got,
An Indian vision so deep.

It was a profound,
Feeling of all.
The wind cried Geronimo,
I could hear him call.

I could hear the laughter,
In Havasupai.
An eternal laughter,
That will never die.

I walked the clouds,
With both feet on the ground.
I could hear the sun,
Make a silent sound.

The sound of joy,
An enlightened liberty.
It spoke an eternal vision,
That will become reality.

The reality of a tribal fire,
Touching the sky.
I danced with Apache,
And Havasupai.

I spun like the globe,
In the seasons of life.
I could hear the laughter,
Of my tribe, my wife.

Then I woke up,
In a double sense.
And saw my every word,
Could heal and cleanse.

Reality.

“The Understanding of

Geronimo and Burro“

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

White-eye tried to understand,
Geronimo and Burro.
They were the flaming core,
Which they felt in their marrow.

Some white-eyes were good,
And were close to the flame.
But they will never understand,
The Indian’s true name.

The Indians felt from birth,
The fire of God.
When they saw each morning,
They did greet life and nod
To God.

This flaming fire,
Will it one day be forgotten?
And all there is left,
Is a world senseless and rotten.

Tribal living is the answer,
As Geronimo’s Bugatseka,
and Burro’s Havasupai.
If you feel the tribal Great Spirit,
Like them,
You will feel it inside,
That you will never die.

You will feel the presence of eternity,
In every living thing.
And you will not fear,
The shadow of everything.

Life is light,
As simple as it is.
Geronimo and Burro,
Tried to tell you this,
But they were betrayed,
With a kiss.

But an Indian dawn,
Comes around,
Once more to stay,
Through the very eternal day,
Of Mother Earth,
And Father Sky.

“Fulfilled“

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

The «task» of their God,
Is to get this fulfilled.
To get every Indian,
Extinct, killed.

They claim they follow,
Every vision of Jesus Christ.
But Jesus know better,
Than his «people» of night.

Jesus Christ,
Knows that Adam and Eve.
Are Indian eagles,
That do truly believe.

They worship Eden,
They do not deny,
That life itself is holy,
For every Apache, Havasupai.

Jesus would never back,
Any President.
Who sees himself flawless,
With no need to repent.

But dear arrogant evil,
With a snakelike kiss.
God sees your every action,
Did you know this?

Anti-Christ is evil,
Kills nature by the core.
Modern man will never,
Pass through Heaven’s door.

So, I say to you,
With your perfect skin.
Have you ever questioned,
That you are the sin?

Sinful in actions,
But expressive at word.
You kill all that God gave us,
His Eden, this world.

“Jim Morrison’s Deepest Vision“

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

Jim Morrison’s deepest vision,
Is that only seeing, turns to feeling.
Where all knows what Eden demands,
An instant state of kneeling.

That your paved streets,
Turn to your path of trails.
Where everybody loves,
And no one nails,
One another.

That we do not use doors,
But live in open freedom tents.
Where we feel the wind,
With our every sense.

Jim Morrison started,
My vision of eye.
He led me to Indians,
Apache, Havasupai.

He envisioned that someone,
Would maybe pick up his art.
Strengthen his words,
And aim for the heart.

He was not gone or lost,
He knew his every date.
But especially with The Creator,
That carved his fate.

He is a blessing to earth,
Most important bloke of the pen.
If we listen to Jim Morrison,
This world will never end.

“Geronimo’s Kicks of Times“

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

I am sure that Geronimo,
Had his kicks of times.
That were well but surely hidden,
In all of his life of rhymes.

We do not really know,
The feeling that he had.
When he grew up in Arizona Eden,
As a brave, strong, shining lad.

His eyes did always gaze,
At the sun that was deep inside.
He ran into a mystery of everything,
Everything history will never hide.

Each step he took in grace,
Every mile he joyfully ran.
He is graced with a kick of times,
We will never understand.

He flew like an awakened eagle,
The flight went into the sun.
No one ever knew his tale,
Before he grew up and begun.

His footsteps they were carved,
Into the historical minds of us all.
From the very day he heard the wind,
Speak and call,
His name.

“No bullet will hurt you”,
The wind spoke his prophetic word.
Your forever name is Geronimo,
Soon for all to be heard.

So, run forever Geronimo,
You own the thing called time.
Each time I see the sun,
Your grace will fill my mind.

“Dawn’s My Way“

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

Jim Morrison,
Nurtured me,
With Indian wisdom.

He showed me
The dawn’s my way,
The day,
How to pray.

Newborn awakened I am,
Thanks to a crazy mind,
Of sane visions.

The lands of God,
Are declared in the sky.
Apache Nation,
And Havasupai.

Jim Morrison agreed,
With The Creator’s help,
To cast a spell,
Of an Indian Medicine Man,
To hypnotize the tribal People,
Back into the Arizona Eden.

The new People of God,
Are the ones with Indian blood.

You are the only People,
Who are faithful,
In God’s eyes.

Apache and Havasupai,
Treat Arizona like Eden.

The old Eden of past,
Has passed,
It didn’t last.

New Eden,
Is Arizona.

The sacred secrets,
Of Adam and Eve,
Are well known,
And rooted and grow out,
Of their hearts of purity.

Indian purity.

Immaculate souls.

Souls are felt,
By the tribe,
In the new Arizona Eden.

I say to you,
I pray to you.
Your ways are new,
Frankly ancient values,
Are revived to rule,
In God’s new realm of all,
Arizona Eden

I bless you.

Amen.

Apache Trooper
by Daryl Dazen Art
DARYLDAZEN@GMAIL.COM

“Apache Trooper”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

The Apache Trooper,
Grabs his gun.
He got a drive inside,
That goes on and on.

He fights for anybody,
That believes in the light
He fights for the dances,
Around bonfires in the night.

His people were murdered,
The white man’s soul is so dark.
But it gave him his bravery,
It lit an eternal spark.

Inside every bullet,
Inside of his gun.
Fights for his Eden,
Under the sun.

One day he will win,
And a Kingdom will come.
And all the evil deeds,
Of the white man are gone.

“We Live In Peace”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

We live in peace,
That is all we want.
But you repress every drum,
And silence ever chant.

We are living in Eden,
And you say.
“So what?”.

Can’t you see Thy Holy Scripture.

Back to Eden it says.

God is not happy,
Neither Jesus,
About the ways of the so-called righteous,
Man of the land.

How do you treat the people of Eden,
In their Apache Nation?

Can’t you see,
That they are the true children,
Of God?

We live in peace,
They say.

They pray The Eden prayer.

And that is what The Creator, God,
Wants us to do.

Nothing besides,
No lies.
No one dies,
Anymore.

The doors of evil are closed,
Enter the open tents.

Apache Nation is born.

We live in peace,
At ease.

“Poems, No No”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

Poems, no no,
Wisdom in rhymes.

I write about the plains,
Where the Indians were,
Fully alive,
Free as God spoke about,
When he Once created Eden.

Ancient winds,
Put your power into my every rhyme,
Of wisdom.

Make the good divine dreams,
Be captured,
And sow the seeds of nature,
Into the souls,
Of the people of the earth.

My vision,
Is small,
But it grows,
My vision knows,
How to handle,
The arrows and bows.

How to hit the target,
With an Apache precision.

The ancestors,
Woke me up in the middle,
Of the night,
And told me,
Fight.

Fight,
For Eden that has been lost,
In the hearts of The Apache,
Havasupai.

Rhymes, yes.
Wisdom, yes.

Will I hit the target,
With my bow and arrow?
Yes.

Geronimo taught me how,
With words.

“The Name of The Flame”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

Geronimo is,
The name of the flame,
He did not play,
The white man’s game.

The forces of evil,
Dressed up as good.
They all spoke like the snake.

And in every twist and every turn,
Of their lies,
They claimed they were,
The people of God.

How come do you think like that?
Frogskin money,
Is the root of all evil.

Why can’t you ever see the truth?

Why can’t you see Geronimo’s fight,
For his light,
To not be swallowed,
By the snake of night.

Do not ever trust snake people,
The spirit of the wind,
Told me that.

I see his eyes,
No lies.
This is the true Geronimo.

Geronimo grab your weapons,
Fight for eternity,
This time with words,
You can’t catch birds.

“I Saw His Eyes”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

I saw his eyes,
The eagle-eyed Geronimo,
Felt a burning rage,
Against evilness,
Dressed as good.

He grabs his gun,
Under the sun.

He does not like it,
But he poses for eternity,
In the photograph.

Man will one day recognize,
His eyes.

I saw his eyes.

Did you see them too?

“An Apache Smile”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

An Apache smile,
Is in the grace of God.

It spreads in the invisible wind,
Flying into the darkest spaces,
Of the soul.

Apache of today,
Is the way,
It has come to stay,
Like the dawn of day.

The speaker told me so.

He has an Apache Smile,
Though all the pain,
The rain,
That reigns,
In the present Apache spirit.

Remember your smile Apache,
All Indians got a hidden sun,
Within,
To be discovered.

Inside your heart is sacred tobacco,
For your lifelong peace pipe.

One day you will share,
An Apache Smile.

Trust me.

“Geronimo”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

Geronimo could stare down bullets.
Geronimo could be framed alive,
In a photograph,
Which speaks to us,
This very day of his eternal now.

Geronimo is a true legend.
When Geronimo looked your way,
Enemies ran, friends did stay.

Pray for Geronimo,
Send a word,
Into the wind,
So his voice speaks,
With a physical presence,
In the letters of the wind.

My Geronimo,
How come?
Do you live,
Inside of the sun?
Like a fire that nourishes,
All lives and spirits,
Of Mother Earth.

I believe so,
Soon we all will know.

Geronimo.

“There Is Us”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

The words of the wind,
There is you.
The path of the ancient sun,
There is you.

A warrior of words,
There is you.
They smear your Apache flame,
There is you

Forever in the light,
There is you.
In the sacred land,
There is you.

You are not alone,
There is me.
I know the ancient ways too,
There is me,
Who knows how to be,
like you do too.

There is us.

Fighting for The Apache Nation.

“Apache Mind”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

I will tell you a story,
About The Apache Mind.
In their Eden of glory,
Where no one is blind.

Harvest from nature,
Not abuse.

Walking and running over the plains,
With the energy,
Of the inner sun.

Cherish family,
Friends and tribe.
Experience a love,
No one can describe.

See the dawn,
The setting sun is a feast.
The Apache medicine man,
The Indian Priest.

He says,
I know the path of The Sun,
Have fun.

Eden is yours,
Forever.

“Apache Warrior”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

The Apache Warrior,
Got crazy eyes.
He got a fighting spirit,
Which never dies.

He is ancient,
He reigns under the sun.
He fights for a world,
That is almost gone.

He climbs the mountain,
The mountain of age.
He got a gun in his hand,
His eyes are in rage.

But this fight is forever,
His Eden is gone.
Vanished the day,
The white man did come.

But this time around,
The Apache Warrior does win.
His weapon is the sun,
Which comes from within.

“Geronimo’s Cadillac”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

You had to drive,
Your Cadillac by force.
You longed for the fields,
Where you rode your horse.

Freedom is lost,
You cannot longer roam in the plains.
Where you felt a rush,
Like wine in your veins.

Geronimo in his Cadillac,
Well dressed and made.
But evil forces,
Grew in the shade.

The Eden killers,
Have come to stay.
Paradise lost,
It has gone astray.

Geronimo thought,
His words did not last.
Eden is gone,
Freedom has passed.

Now, you cry in the skies,
Take my word.
Freedom will come,
To your every bird.

Geronimo, the legend,
You were forced to drive.
But your spirit will always ride horses,
Fully alive.

“Geronimo Heard Voices”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

Geronimo heard voices,
In the mountains of truth.
They told him,
You are protected,
beyond your lifespan.

You will enter into people’s minds,
For eternal ages to come.

You will live a long life Geronimo,
Eternal you will live to be,
And become the protector,
Of the vision of Eden.

There are three persons,
In my mind.

Jesus Christ, Jim Morrison, Geronimo,
They all had voices that sprung out,
Of the mountains of eternal wisdom.

The Creator spoke within you all,
He did call you,
To embrace the gift of God,
That flowed through you,
With visions and words,
Worlds to become.

“Geronimo’s Mountain”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

Geronimo’s Mountain,
Spoke to me.
The same voice,
It had to be.

It spoke to you,
Centuries ago.
What it said,
I do know.

The voice is from the deep,
Geronimo heard it first.

I hear the non-verbal voice,
From Geronimo’s Mountain.

What I hear,
Is what I feel.
History in the making,
I pray and kneel.

No one will touch you,
The follower of The Sun.
Is everybody in?
The ceremony has begun.

The ancient voices,
Only resonates in the few.
When I feel the voice,
My fate, I already knew.

Crazy it sounds,
Crazy I might be.
But I do fight my friend,
For the soul of thee.

My passion,
A destiny to be thrilled.
But what is alive,
Has always been killed.

But this time evil fellow,
The host of the dark.
The voice I heard,
Lit a spark,
And will burn bright blind love,
Burn away the night,
In a split second of dawn.

Geronimo’s Mountain,
Spoke second time around.
My son of forever,
You are bound,
To make it,
Because you do not fake it,
The dream,
You will never break it.

I’m a poet,
I know it.
I will not blow it,
Said the voice in the wind.

The voice in the wind,
Danced from the center,
Of Geronimo’s Mountain,
Placed in the sky.

It will become.

“An Apache Survey”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

I know the coming day,
Of an Apache survey.

All will be seen,
With the true spirit eyes,
All lies,
Will vanish.

All that is left,
Is The Creator’s plains,
Of forevergreen grass.

All is in harmony.

An Apache survey,
Has come to stay,
Night and day.

Silent wind’s prayer,
Says “Thank You Apache survey”.

“Dear Apache Nation”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

Dear Apache Nation,
This is a letter for you.

On the behalf,
Of the modern man,
I say sorry.

Christians killed your Eden.

The true Adam and Eve,
Are dead.

The Apache rides his horse,
Over his plains,
Of imagination.

But these sacred fields,
Exist only in the Apache mind.

We have to listen,
And Dear Apache Nation will rise.

I will do my best to help you.

You got my word on that,
And my actions.

“Geronimo’s Cave”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

I dive into,
Geronimo’s cave.
I had these visions for years,
I know how to behave.

On the walls it is written,
About his darkest nights.
What is left,
Of the glorious lights,
Of his Apache Nation?

I hear an echo,
An Indian reply.
Of what I spoke,
With a homecoming sigh.

It has been over a hundred years,
The voices still remain.
In Geronimo’s cave,
Where he cried like the rain.

I step outside,
And I see the King in the sky.
And it says silently and warm,
He did never die.

“Your Drums Are Meant To Beat”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

Your drums are meant to beat,
In your Eden,
Havasupai and Apache Nation.

Your drums are not meant to beat,
In the city streets.

Your drums are the pulse of nature,
Therefore run wildly,
Over your plains of forever,
Free as you shall be.

Let the grass hear your drums,
Let the wind carry the sound,
Of your drums.

“Apache”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

Apache warrior of Eden,
He got ancient traits in his soul,
That resonate deep,
Inside every soul that sees him.

Riding a horse,
Coming from the wisest mountain,
Of them all.

He does not say a word,
The sun speaks and says
“Apache you are the only left,
Therefore fight forever,
For eternity”.

Me, I look at the sun that spoke.
I could hear his words,
Though it was only silence.

We all can claim to be,
Sons on the sun,
And Daughters of the Moon.

I am not special,
But I am the first to recognize,
I am the son of the sun,
Like we all are.

Be a warrior of Eden,
Put seeds of love in the ground,
To grow.

“The Man In The Air”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

The man in the air,
Is here,
And everywhere.

He heard the voices,
That flew into his brain.
He once lived here,
Geronimo is his name.

He works in the winds,
Enter dreams.
He sings in the rivers,
His vision streams.

People may laugh,
Until they cry.
But what they do not get,
Geronimo did never die.

Because his eyes were framed,
For eternity to be.
They will set fire to every soul,
That wants to be free.

“Bonfire Flames”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

Bonfire flames,
Give everybody names,
That are true and real,
That do not play games.

This goes deeper,
Than what you all do see.
It is an invisible flame within,
That will set you free.

I see that flame in Apache Nation,
I see that flame in Havasupai.
Do not worry,
This flame will never die.

“Dances With Geronimo”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

He dances with the wind,
He dances with Geronimo.

He hears Geronimo’s ancient words,
Which have been preserved,
For over a century,
By the wind.

The words of Geronimo,
Will never die,
And now they have finally been rooted,
In the soul of an Indian man.

These words have been spoken,
From the book of winds.

They tell that Hell,
Have come to pass.

Paradise of the Apache Nation,
Will flow into everybody’s vision.

The words of the wind,
Will tell the tales,
Of Geronimo’s dance,
In his every holy day.

Holy days will come.

The book of winds,
Says so.

We all will be dancing,
With Geronimo,
Forever on Mother Earth,
And for eternity in Heaven.

His arrow finally hit the target.

“The Apache Dances”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

The Apache dances,
In a way of the old.
He dresses in feathers,
And dances bold.

The plains of the ancient,
Spirits do move.
Alive again,
Under the sun and the moon.

He dances deeper and deeper,
Travels to the core.
He faces a portal
A universal door.

He tells the tales,
In a hypnotic chant.
But you do understand,
What he does rant.

He is a circle of all,
That speaks through his soul.
He will heal Mother Earth,
Make humanity whole.

He does not shed,
A single tear.
He fights the evil,
Without fear.

His pain is ancient,
His dance is new.
It has never been seen,
But now it is true.

The true Apache,
Warrior of the most high.
He has started a movement,
That will never die.

The Ghostdance.

“Apache Meets Crazy Norse”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

Apache meets Crazy Norse,
And he wonders,
Does he,
Got the force?

Or, the question does rise.
Does he know the source,
As Apache does?

He comes like a northern wind.
He says “I apologize for our every sin”

I do love Apache,
He shows it with all of his words.
But he walks them all,
The words he say.
That Apache never have seen,
Or heard,
Of,
Before,
What Crazy Norse does and says.

I might be white-eyed,
But my conscience does suffer.
It is black of sorrow,
Because our crimes
Upon your people Apache.

I bow down,
And say sorry.

I know Apache got a true heart,
Of forgiveness.

Just like my Jesus Christ got,
But his followers got not.

I rise,
In your forgiveness.

Thanks for your humble soul,
Of a true King Apache.

“Imagine, My Friend”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

Imagine how even more beautiful,
The culture of Apache Nation,
And other Native Americans,
Would have been without,
The interference of White-eye?

Geronimo would have been living
At ease,
And by the time Indians,
Would get along with one another,
In peace.
Everything would fall into place.
Their divine places of living,
Would flourish with wild loving harmony..

The fields of reality,
Would invite the Children of The Creator,
To adventures,
That would never have any ending.

No end,
My friend.

Only a new start in every single way,
Of life.
No strife.

This could be,
If White-eye,
Would have left you alone,
To grow as a Child of The Creator.

Geronimo would have been,
Goyathlay. Himself.

In peace,
By the time.

Imagine, my friend.
Imagine.

“I Know My People

Too Damn Well”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

I know my people,
Too damn well,
They say they are Angels,
But they promote Hell.

They say Apache Nation,
and Havasupai.
Won’t get to Heaven,
They will eternally die.

I am ashamed of Christians,
But I follow Christ.
There are not many of them,
That dare to take that fight.

The fight for Eden,
Adam and Eve.
A world the Indians,
Will never leave.

But the white-eye,
Does the best to erase.
And lead the Indian minds,
Into another “phase”.

But I tell you pride boy,
In your so cool jeans.
I’m gonna tell you the truth,
Of your suicidal dreams.

You kill the nature,
You kill the people of God.
You fill the rivers,
With Indian blood.

So, beware, don’t smear anymore,
The name of Christ, my friend.
The evil culture of White-eye,
Has come to an end
And all will mend.

In the name of,
Jesus Christ,
Geronimo,
Chief Burro,
And Jim Morrison.

Men of God’s Nature.

Amen.

“Fat-Taker”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

The white-eye,
Was called by The Indians,
“Fat-Taker”, to take, not give.
Because he stole from Mother Earth,
Tried to break-her,
Into pieces of dust.
He took,
Like a crook,
The spirit and body,
Of Mother Earth.
He was a “taker”,
Not a holy giver.

No dust.
From ashes to ashes,
No, I say. No way!
We come from light,
Not ashes,
We are light,
And become light,
Again,
In the end.

Why can’t you white-eye,
Be content having it all,
In Eden?

You are a man of God,
You say.
Life has become a prey,
For you.

Can’t you listen to Jesus?
Being humble?
Not erasing the bumblebee.

Money is all,
And down they fall,
They did not heed the call,
Of Crazy Norse.

You got the problem,
White-eye,
I don’t.

I cherish the old,
That is what has been told.
In the Ten Commandments,
Of Moses.
Like the Indians have done,
And they still do,
For elders.

I hope you listen,
To your inner heart,
White-eye,
The eye of God,
The Creator,
He sees it all,
From inside,
And from above.

He is love,
And so are you.

Amen.

“Bonfire Drums”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

Bonfire drums,
In the middle of the night.
We got to protect us,
From the eyes of the white.

They attack our spirits,
Destroy our land.
They think of themselves,
So pure, holy and grand.

The Ghost of yesterday,
Still lingers on.
Apache’s struggles,
Under the sun.

They have humiliated,
The soul of the universe.
Destroyed the sacred land,
In a way so perverse.

In the name of money,
That is all that counts.
But all will bounce,
Back to Eden.

By the time,
in every rhyme,
Of Indian wisdom,
Will become,
The eternal truth.

“The Forces Within The Apache”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

The forces within The Apache,
Got strength beyond what is normal.

You endured the insane pain,
Of the White-eyed deeds.

You did survive,
You are meant to fight,
For your Eden.

Never give up your Eden,
Eden is yours,
You got the force,
You know the source,
More than any other at Mother Earth.

Trust me,
I know you.

I see,
The forces within The Apache.

“The Apache and

The Havasupai Way”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

I go the Apache and The Havasupai way,
Not to left,
Not to right,
But the Indian living,
In the God’s Eden light

The world of left and right,
Of the white-eye,
Both of their worlds live for the most,
Totally wrong,
A small amount of right.

The world of the Apache
And Havasupai,
Live for the most,
Totally right,
A small amount of wrong.

Modern man,
Fills life with poison,
In every layer of life.

The Apache and Havasupai,
Do the best to heal,
And preserve,
Inner and outer nature.

Who is right?

“Geronimo Comes

(Chief Burro Too)”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

Geronimo comes,
Chief Burro too.
The ancient truth,
Has come for you.

They will come in words,
Like crafty snakes.
Come from the past,
From the ancient lakes.

They will quote The Bible,
And erase every liar.
In the modern world,
Of the Roman Empire.

They will Baptist the people,
Show that Eden is earth.
And the tribal magic,
Will give people a rebirth.

They will show you the Kingdom,
Here at earth, and in the sky.
That all is born,
To never die.

They will reveal for you,
All that has never been seen.
That the fields of forever,
Are evergreen.

They will teach you to,
Cherish the old.
It is through them,
The stories are told.

They will show you the path,
To the naked soul.
Where people are not afraid,
Of one another anymore.

They tell you the words,
We do not come just to go.
There is something inside,
That never dies, you know.

Jesus, Jim Morrison,
Geronimo and Chief Burro.
Will give you all this,
In a present tomorrow.

Amen.

“The Indian Sun“

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

I smile when I think,
Of The Indian sun.
Shining at the freedom tribe,
Where laughter is having fun.

Dancing wild and joyful,
In the light of the bonfire.
This is divine magic,
Destroyed by an evil liar.

Columbus came,
Then all good was gone.
They did blind, evil deeds,
Under the Indian sun.

By the time they killed,
Geronimo and Chief Burro.
Their feathers were ripped off,
And they fell down in sorrow.

This tale of Eden,
We cannot forget.
The Indian sun does give,
It is through giving you truly get.

“The True Eden

People of Wisdom“

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

The Apache, Havasupai,
Wisdom is much deeper.
Than the shallow white-eye,
Evil deed “sleeper”.

They grew wisdom,
Out of their soul.
The white-eyed wisdom,
Was to search for gold,
He is sold,
He betrayed the ancient,
And the old.

White-eye talks about Jesus,
The Apache and Havasupai,
Walk Jesus.

The wisdom of Apache,
And Havasupai.
Comes from a source,
That will never die.

The Eternal Creator.

The Indian has goodness,
In his blood.
White-eye claims,
He is the man of God.

Beware my brother,
My fellow man in skin.
One day the Devil,
Will bring you in.

Do not quote Jesus,
Like a liar of day.
When you kill Adam and Eve,
It doesn’t help to pray.

You pray to Jesus, my friend,
He sees your evil heart.
That you hide behind,
Advanced culture and art.

Jesus sees,
Your every deed.
It is for the Indians,
He did truly bleed.

Jesus’ world of heart,
Is Adam and Eve.
A world the Apaches,
And the Havasupai,
Did never leave.

Jesus is fighting for you,
My Indian friends.
He is fighting for the ancient,
Which never ends,
But it mends.

God will embrace,
Your divine goodness,
Apache Nation,
And Havasupai,
Trust me,
I do not lie.

I know the path of the sun.

“Columbus Was“

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

Columbus was,
A follower of Christianity,
But surely not,
A follower of Christ.

Geronimo noticed that white-eye,
Read The Holy Bible upside down
White-eye portraited himself,
As a scholared evil clown,
From the town.

What did you bring to Eden Columbus?
Goyathlay murdered,
And the rise of your Geronimo?

Why did Geronimo kill?
Why did he give you a chill?
Because you killed,
His every divine thrill.

Why cannot white-eye,
Use his precious eyes,
To see all what he has done,
To Eden?

Killing Eden,
Is not an act of God.
Killing Adam and Eve,
Is not an act of God.
Neglecting elders,
Is not an act of God.
“Scarring” your children,
Is not an act of God.

So Columbus,
What did you bring,
To the table?

You sold your soul,
For gold.

Gold was all you cared for,
A sick blind mind,
You truly are.

Your Amen,
Has turned,
Into Omen.

Jesus Christ,
Will give back the plains,
Of tomorrow,
To The Apache Nation.

He will do it with silence.

“I Bring My Apache Woman“

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

I bring my Apache Woman,
To my tribe, in Supai.
The Chief of the tribe,
Smiled with a sigh.

I see you brought your women,
It looks like she is the one.
She is mysterious as the moon,
And Crazy Norse, you smile like the sun

I give you my blessing,
As well does the sky.
You will never part,
Your love will never die.

I said thanks to The Chief,
Who blessed my love.
He said, you must always seek wisdom,
From the eagle up above.

The eagle has a Vision,
That you both must adopt.
He is a manifestation of wisdom,
That cannot be stopped.

You my couple,
Go on forever, even more.
But I trust you both,
I know that for sure.

“Apache Fun“

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

Apache fun,
Is to run,
Under the sun.

Laughing madly,
Dancing and singing,
Next to the bonfire
Under the moon.

Smiling throughout,
The whole happy day,
Of life,
With wife,
No strife,
Almost just only pure Eden.

Love,
Comes from up above.
Apache knows,
Apache fun.

In the realm under the sun.

“The Cry of An Apache“

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

The cry of an Apache,
Is the cry of me.
Because they are not allowed,
To roam free.

The pain of an Apache,
Is the pain of me.
I wish they were allowed,
Just to be.

The loss of an Apache,
Is the loss of me.
This is a world,
The world will not see.

The sorrow of an Apache,
Is the sorrow of me.
I will fight forever,
Because of your wounded knee.

“An Apache Warrior’s Decision“

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

The ghost of Geronimo,
Gives them all a chill.
All the important people,
Whose actions are only to kill.

They kill all that is true,
They kill all that is good.
An Apache warrior’s decision,
Is now well understood.

He sees Eden of his Geronimo,
A world, white-eye kills with a smile
An Apache grabs his bow and arrow,
And walks a warrior’s mile.

He enters the battlefield of spirits,
Where the invisible souls do roam.
It is an Apache warrior’s decision,
To protect The Creator’s home.

The Eden of all, is dying,
With all the beautiful stories untold.
In this Kingdom of forever,
Where they all do trade souls for gold.

It is his eternal Apache soul,
That fights in a mortal body.
Who wants to stop the killing of all,
Because the rivers of Eden are bloody.

The Creator nods in honor,
For this single man’s bravery and fight.
He will fight for dawn to enter,
With an eternal bliss, of God’s light.

“Adam and Eve“

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

I do not like people,
Who mess around with Adam and Eve.
If you do not like Indians,
You better, man up, and leave.

Apache, Havasupai,
Got problems with “The Man”.
Who seems to have sorted it out,
But still he does not understand.

He cannot understand,
The basics of life.
He thinks it’s all about money,
And relentless strife.

So, get your hands off my friends,
I mean the Indians, Adam and Eve.
You got nothing for them,
Up your evil-eyed sleeve.

I will protect them both,
With my words, I will do my best.
To explain the love I got for you,
Here, inside my chest.

Havasupai, Apache,
Brothers and sisters of soul.
Soon again you will live,
And feel complete, and whole.

In the midst of Eden.
These words are not just words.

As my Amen,
Is not just only Amen.

“Geronimo’s Freedom“

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

Geronimo wanted,
To run with the fox.
Live free in a tent,
Not inside a box.

The house of white-eye,
Is hard in the edges.
The Great Spirit,
Gave Geronimo pledges.

One day you will have,
Your freedom to be lost.
But at last, your visions will win,
Though with a cost.

Time passes,
As well the white-eyed world.
In the future of tomorrow,
Apache will fly like the bird.

Traveling over the plains,
From place to place.
Feeling The Great Spirit’s,
Truthful face.

He says, no box to live in,
Not freedom of house.
You are a brave, free Apache,
Not a cowardly mouse.

Your soul will move free,
Like the freedom feather.
From place to place,
Moving with the weather.

You are free to breathe,
In the open air.
Apache feet,
Are grounded in here.

Footprints in the sky,
Will never die,
They do not know,
About the word good-bye,
So again, fly Apache,
Into eternity.

“If I Only Could Hug an Indian“

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

If I only could hug an Indian,
An Apache or Havasupai.
I would look into their eyes,
And say relax, with a sigh.

I befriend you not,
To steal what they stole.
But to give back what is missing,
So you feel complete again, and whole.

I have seen what they did,
I see what they do.
It is an evil “Man of morals”,
That is coming for you.

Look at the vast sky,
It is all hidden in the plains.
Which you will get back,
So the true Indians reign.

If I were to manifest visions,
I got deep in my heart.
I will fight for Havasupai, and Apaches,
With my persona and art.

Look into my eyes,
And you will see the eye of the sun.
“Is everybody in? Jim Morrison said,
The ceremony has begun.
The drama is fun,
Under the sun.

“The Ghost Songs”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

Jim Morrison,
Is an Indian friend.
He wanted to revive,
The Ghost Songs again.

His words were arrows,
His body the bow.
He took a crazy, wild path,
But he managed it somehow.

He loves the wilderness people,
Apache and Havasupai.
They own the vision of God,
They will never die.

Ancestors of Indians,
Have come to show.
Indians came to life,
To never go,
Away.

The Ghost Songs,
Wake you up, the last chance.
To do Jim Morrison’s,
Attempt for The Ghost Dance,
In an ancient trance.

“The Dawning of Jim Morrison”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

The dawning of Jim Morrison,
Has to come.
He was right,
Yes, he did wrong.

The reason is,
He saw Eden vanish,
And became sad,
And did bad,
Got mad,
Jim Morrison,
No more glad.

He saw the dances,
Of the Indians,
Were erased,
By modern society.

He gave me the Indian Summer,
I think of my Indian Summer,
Ten times a day,
Every day,
Since I met,
Jim Morrison,
In my reality of the year 1991,
My first Indian Summer.

His Indian poems,
Inspired my warmth,
Gave me the fire,
To not be a white-eyed liar.

I heard ancient laughter,
In the wind.
I saw spirits,
In all there is.

My only drug,
Was Eden.

I had Eden inside,
I had Eden outside,
I had Eden everywhere.

I had ancient feelings,
An Indian joy,
Then I met a friend’s vision,
He told me about Havasupai,
Apache Nation,
All there is came to be,
For me.

I found my people of Eden,
I thought I was alone.

I am not alone,
Supai is my family,
And home,
Among my friends,
The Apaches I roam,
In my reality of dreams.

Supai,
Will never die,
And Geronimo,
And Burro,
Will never be forgotten.

I will make sure of that,
In my grandiose mind.
But in my grounded thoughts,
Of visions.

Thank you Jim Morrison,
“Is everybody in?
The ceremony is about to begin,”
You said.

The ceremony has begun,
Jim Morrison,
Under the scattered sun,
With visions,
Of Indian beauty,
And fun,
Will come.

It is from the ancient,
Future has begun.

Back to The Garden of Eden.

Amen.

“They See Indians,

I see Adam and Eve”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

They see Indians,
I see Adam and Eve.
Their own beauty of living,
They were forced to leave.

In God’s Garden,
They could jump and run.
Totally in joy,
At one with the sun.

They did harvest from nature,
Indians did never steal.
They knew that Mother Earth,
Needed recovery, to heal.

They let their children be the created,
And blessed them with respect.
Children are the future like we all are,
They would never neglect,
Them.

The rivers did sing in joy,
The mountains were so wise.
They treated earth like Eden,
They took care of this Paradise.

But white-eye tamed the free rivers,
The mountains turned to dust.
They needed the minerals for war,
A warfare that seems to never rust.

How will it all end?
Will God’s Garden of Eden die?
I think the changes will happen,
Because of Apache and Havasupai.

“Apache Power”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

Apache power,
Force of God.
The sun does live,
Inside your blood.

He gazes at the sky,
The sun does wink.
I am stronger that the most,
He does think.

Wonder about,
From where and when?
This mysterious power,
Will never end.

Climb the mountain,
Touch the sky.
Apache power,
Does never die.

“Ancient Tomorrow”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

I feel a voice in my heart,
The one of Geronimo and Burro.
Which says, tell all the People,
Of your ancient tomorrow.

We cannot harvest,
From Mother Earth like we do.
Then all resources are gone,
For the people of tomorrow,
Because of me and you.

We cannot harvest,
Neither for electric, or oil.
The energy they rip,
From Mother Earth’s soil.

We cannot live like this,
For thousands of years.
Then Eden is gone,
And the rivers become tears.

The world is empty,
In just a matter of time.
To neglect this,
Is an Anti-Christ crime.

Because this is Eden,
Nothing besides.
Will you face your fate?
God sees all your lies.

So, bow for your Eden,
And to The Creator, our God.
There is more to life,
Than just flesh, bones and blood.

So, learn from Apache Nation,
And Havasupai.
The Indian way, is the only way,
If not, we all will die.

God bless Mother Earth,
And Father sky.

Amen.

“The Deep Indian Flute”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

The deep Indian flute,
Resonates in the ground.
All people can feel,
This ancient sound.

You cannot hear it,
With your ears.
But you are moved to the core,
By The Creator’s tears.

You do feel it inside,
It radiates pain and sorrow.
It affected Geronimo,
And Chief Burro.

The cry from the Heavens,
Comes with this flute.
No corner of the world,
Is anymore cute.

It is pain in the notes,
In this flute you do feel.
There is no more music,
That is beautiful and real.

This deep Indian flute,
Plays one more time.
What has been done to the world,
Is an unheard crime.

“The Drums of Geronimo”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

The drums of Geronimo,
Are beating faster.
The Eden at Mother Earth,
White-eye wants to blast her.

In the Holy lands of the Apache,
Geronimo was furious in his soul.
They killed his Bugatseka Eden,
No one can ever fill this black hole.

His family under The Creator,
The creator of the moon and the sun.
Was ripped from Geronimo’s life,
And he picked up his eternal gun.

He shot his gun and arrow,
A revenge for loss of his wife.
It is all coming back to the one,
Geronimo’s mind is sharp as a knife.

He wandered in the wilderness,
Got optimally wild.
His pain is dark and devastating,
For his loss of wife and child.

But his bloodline was passed on,
Unto a generation of the new.
One day the Geronimo’s Eden,
Will come back to you,
Apache.

“Indian Summers,

They Come To Never Go”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

The Indian summers,
They come to never go.
Out of its day to day living,
Eternity will bloom to grow.

The sharp air, awake to see,
That the autumn will remain.
The eagle-mind feeling we got,
Without it, you are in vain.

This Indian day, with a voice,
Of the holy unspoken remarks.
That all the Indian Summers say,
Catch this soul of sparks.

The sparks of a dream, I do see,
In only whom reality is.
The warm authentic breeze of all,
Is a feeling all will kiss.

The eye of clarity, opens, wide,
Sees the vision that touches all.
The Indian summers, promise to,
Rise to bloom every fall.

This common soul of Indians,
Sharpened, you will feel like one.
This is the last day, of eternity,
You feel the warmth of the sun.

Every day, is life and death,
But it is filled with sharpened light.
To see this opportunity, my dear,
You got all in your life in sight.

Apache Nation, Havasupai.
Greet every fall with this edge.
They promise to meet, walk the talk,
Of The Indian Summer’s pledge.

They harvest autumn, just to sow,
That the end is always near.
Celebrating The Indian Summers,
We know the sacred moment of here.

“Geronimo Flows With Joy“

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

Geronimo flows with joy,
Every present Apache,
Girl and boy,
Got a future,
Not so distant,
Of his own predictions,
That he carried in his eyes,
That we’re pictured for eternity.

All will flow,
Every Apache will know,
That flowing joy,
Of life in the fields of freedom.

All holy forces,
Will bless every vision,
Of the Apache Adam and Eve,
And give back Eden,
To The People.

I say Amen.
What has been,
Will become.

All will flow,
Because what Geronimo,
Did sow,
In the presence of past,
His vision did last.

The river will grow,
And will flow,
In the lands we know,
An abundance of love,
Given by the «sun» above.

The Creator has fulfilled,
His plans of tomorrow,
Soon to start today,
Pray.

An Apache Prayer,
Longing for an easy Eden life,
With his wife,
And children of tomorrow.

I believe.
At least that is something?

Don’t you agree,
My beloved Apache friends?

“The Voice in The Wind,

Goyathlay“

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

I hear a power,
The voice in the wind.
It speaks to my soul,
Deep within.

Over a century it has,
Been contained in time.
Suddenly it pops up,
In my every rhyme.

Goyathlay, you whisper,
In the ancient trees.
The Creator speaks,
In an evening breeze.

He says: “No one can touch you
This holy flame,
Only you see the letters,
Of my name.”

It’s crazy for sure,
Also a bit kind of strange.
I got The Great Spirit,
Here within range.

I can touch the wind,
I can hear it speak.
How can I fulfill it,
When I am weak?

I grab my arrow,
I grab my bow.
I am gonna make it,
In a way somehow.

Goyathlay.

“Geronimo”

“Apaches Never Die“

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

Geronimo said:
“Apaches never lie”
Geronimo is not dead,
Apaches never die.

Apaches never die,
They stay forever in the wind.
The Creator wants them to whisper,
To all humans, deep within.

In the Arizona sun,
The wind says strictly repent.
Remember the days of Eden,
Pure nature and your tent.

Do not forget Apache,
Where you are from.
Your every heartbeat,
Is The Great Spirit’s drum.

Apaches never die,
Eternal their spirits to be.
They hear Geronimo in the wind,
In that moment they feel free.

“Goyathlay”

Geronimo.

“Geronimo’s Arrow“

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

I will tell you a tale,
About Geronimo’s arrow.
It has flown for decades,
It will strike you in the marrow.

It will penetrate all of your defenses,
Go through a needle’s eye.
It will tell the brutal truth,
To your every lie.

All the lies you have told,
Geronimo stands on the hill.
His final ceremony,
He is born to kill.

Kill all the false,
You have fed the world.
He will unleash a power,
In his every word.

These words of perfection,
Will undress all there is.
You cannot escape nakedness,
I tell you this.

Undress in the wilderness,
Clothes is a mask.
His arrow of words,
Will complete this task.

This arrow is old,
But appears to be new.
Geronimo owns it,
And his arrow is true.

He aims the arrow,
Ambitious, towards the sun.
Truth will strike, but to heal,
An Indian Kingdom will come.

People will wake up,
From a nightmare in red.
The sun will rise,
For every living dead.

Amen.

“When The Indians Are Gone“

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

When the Indians,
Are gone.
There are no more prayers,
Under the sun.

When Havasupai and Apache,
Are forgotten and gone.
The world is over,
Erased and done.

If you let money rule,
With all of your sick lusts.
The Indian way,
Will be crushed.

The Indian way,
Is the only way.
It is an urgent must,
To enter God’s day.

Listen to the wind,
Sisters and brothers.
It says love your broken,
Fathers and mothers.

Go back to nature,
In almost all of the ways.
That is the only way,
You will re-enter the days,
Of Eden.

God wants the world now,
For Adam and Eve.
Fight the Devil,
With evil up his sleeve.

This is a dire warning,
No joke.
If Mother Earth dies,
The universe goes up in smoke.

So, when the music’s over,
Turn out the lights.
The butterfly screams,
Wake up tonight.

Amen.

“Bright As The Day, Goyathlay“

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

You were a bright warrior,
Bright as the dawning day.
Your name was Geronimo,
You were born Goyathlay.

You were burned into history,
And this sun burns so bright.
Your vision was full of light,
Though your fate was a darkened night.

We all do remember,
The warrior of us all.
No history will erase your vision,
These words the wind did call.
«Goyathlay»

You are engraved,
Into the tale of Mother Earth.
Your fate was a written story,
In the stars, from your very birth.

Your face will travel the sky,
Forever for man to see.
The memory of Geronimo,
Will set all The People free.

All is born out of nothing,
And everything will evolve.
The puzzle of you Geronimo,
Only The Creator managed to solve.

I see a person, he is holy,
He fights for the garden of green.
This planet vil embrace all visions,
The fate of Geronimo has seen.

You have been called upon,
To rise the inner sun.
Of humanity souls tomorrow,
An Eden Kingdom will come.

“The End“

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

This is an empire,
This is the end.
The Roman lifestyle,
Is not Jesus’ friend.

Fields of freedom,
Are paved streets.
They are crowded with people,
But nobody meets.

They are superior,
In their sick minds.
But when it comes to God,
They are left behind.

These people,
Kill the Indian summers.
They shot at members,
Of Holy tribal drummers.

They slaughter Mother Earth,
For what it’s worth.
Blow up the planet,
To have your rebirth.

So, how can you live,
This sickened lie.
Killer of Apache,
And Havasupai.

God is nature,
Don’t blow up the globe.
And pray for redemption,
In your black robe.

Jesus is seeing it all,
A Roman act of evil.
They talk like Jesus,
But walk like The Devil.

Babylon towers,
In Arizona, the west.
Yeah, you own the world,
Because you are the best.

You know it all,
From top to toe.
But The Garden of Arizona,
You will never know.

Because here lies the ground,
Of Burro and Geronimo.
They are true legends,
They will never go.

They have come to earth,
For eternity.
Their names do linger,
In the winds so free.

Indian, Indian,
You will survive.
Because The Ghost Dance,
Is present alive.

“A Voice“

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

There is a voice,
Inside my blood.
It says Apache, Havasupai,
Are the People of God.

You are Adam,
You are Eve.
That is the proof,
That all People do see.

Your hearts do whisper,
Ancient is now.
It makes you think,
Is it right somehow?

But I know the sun,
And all of its ways.
Your People are becoming,
The dawn of days.

That power is strong,
More like immense.
Your ways of living,
Are the only way that makes sense.

So, my beloved sisters,
And brothers of all.
One day The Creator,
Will answer your call.

“Be Strong As Geronimo,

My Dear Apache Friend“

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

Be strong as Geronimo,
My Dear Apache friend.
An Indian soul of beauty,
Does never truly end.

Stand up for your people,
Your life is for sure a fight.
But know every dawning morning,
Brings hope and rays of light.

Unite with your tribe,
As small it now may be.
But one day my Apache friend,
The eagle will be free.

That sharpened air of autumn,
Blows gently through your heart.
Apache you are a winner,
Your people are true art.

Hardship past, now and future,
The tears do dominate.
But Apaches are divine,
The Creator has paved a fate.

The fate of hope and enjoyment,
Not today, but maybe tomorrow.
Where your tribe of love,
Will erase the word called sorrow.

Be strong as Geronimo,
My Dear Apache friend.
One day there will be Ghost Dance,
And you will see all Apaches again.

“Arizona is Eden“

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

Arizona is Eden,
That is for sure.
An Indian land,
Where nature does cure.

Healing prayers,
Contacting the Most High.
Just like Apache,
Just like Havasupai.

Pristine like the sunrise,
A feast when the sun sets.
They do not ask for more,
They already get.

They get the point,
Of the meaning of life.
The mind of an eagle,
Sharp, cuts like a knife.

The scenery impresses,
Every inch of your souls.
You are Adam and Eve,
Acting no roles.

So, Eden to me,
Is Arizona for sure.
Look into their eyes,
You will see they are pure.

“Geronimo and Jim Morrison“

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

Jim Morrison only killed himself,
Geronimo only killed others.
The reason was that white-eye,
Killed their Eden sisters and brothers.

Geronimo made a violent mark,
Jim Morrison bleed for his words.
But who among the humanity,
Dares to fly in the sky, like these birds?

Geronimo made a statement,
He fought for survival of our inner force.
Jim Morrison had the key in mind,
To unlock all the inner doors.

Both of them linger forever in the wind,
That whispers here and there.
But their truths are mainly avoided,
Because you have to sacrifice your life,
To really care,
For The Garden of Eden,

Like Geronimo and Jim Morrison did.

“An Evil Track“

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

Geronimo’s final journey,
Was along an evil track.
We all knew the wicked white-eye,
Would never let him come back.

This Apache Warrior of Eden,
Was disgracefully buried at Fort Sill.
The darkness of the white-eyed soul,
Did finally manage to kill.

Geronimo was nailed and jailed,
God’s Adam and Eve were past.
All the lands of Eden they shared,
Would never survive and last.

Is Geronimo dead my fellow Apaches?
What does the wind now say?
Will the Ghost Dance revive all again,
Geronimo, I promise to pray.

I will send my prayers into the sun,
And I hope an answer might will be.
All I want dear Creator of all,
Is to set Geronimo free.

“The Mountain of All“

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

There are legends about,
The mountain of all.
Where Geronimo got,
To hear something call.

He looked at the sky,
Distracted by the sound.
He could hear his name,
Whispered all around.

He got the message,
He knew what to be done.
You will not be killed,
By an enemy’s gun.

You will win every battle,
In the ways of a God.
You will feel the Great Spirit,
Within your blood.

You will never disappear,
From the mind of man.
Your fight and survival,
Will be known to stand.

Time that passes,
Will not erase your bravery.
The Creator protected you,
And you survived and will live on,
For eternity.

“Geronimo Goes

Beyond The Heart“

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

I see a vision of Geronimo,
That goes way beyond the heart,
The Chief knows that The Creator,
Gave him the roughest start.

He lost his family of Arizona Eden,
And only sadness would come to be.
But still he fought his fight forever,
To lose Apaches freedom.
But only for a while to see.

He knew the battles he fought,
Would be won many years from now.
His arrow flies for centuries,
From his long time ago shot of bow.

He will strike the white-eyes souls,
With a magnitude only God can do.
The sky of Arizona is forever,
As the eagle way high up in the blue.

“A Framed Geronimo“

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

I had a vision.
Of a framed Geronimo.
He did leave,
But not to go.

Geronimo carries a weight,
No one else could bear.
He speaks in the wind,
In a place of everywhere.

His friend an Apache,
Honors his eyes.
In a picture of forever,
That never dies.

He gave me the vision,
The artist can heal.
He gave me back my soul,
That white-eye did steal.

I see straight into,
An Apache soul.
He fulfilled my life,
Made me feel whole.

I honer this artist,
I am proud to be his friend.
I wrote him a poem,
That has no end.