Apache Nation
“Apache Nation” poems are my tribute to the Native Americans. With my poetry I fight for them. Sadly as it is, the fight is not over. They have a spiritual connection to life, we all should learn from, which are mocked by modern man. They lived pretty close to “Eden” in Arizona. And Eden is worth fighting for, with my humble poetry about the majestic Apache Nation.
“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.
“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.
“My Ghost Dance”
By Robert Moritz-Olsen
My Ghost Dance,
Heed it by chance,
It is not out of trance.
It is out of pure balance,
To awaken the Apache Nation.
I am saddened that Apache,
Have lost their hope.
But heed the drum,
Where it comes from,
Vision born in the sun.
The Ghost Dance,
Is dancing between the letters,
Of my every word,
Catch that bird,
It is unheard,
Of ever before.
Embrace the sounds,
Of ancestors chanting,
We will come back.
Thanks to Ghost Dance.
That is,
My Ghost Dance,
Just humble words,
Of worlds,
I have experienced.
Thanks for listening,
To,
My Ghost Dance.
“Children At The Lawn”
By Robert Moritz-Olsen
Children created by the dawn,
We’re running over the lawn.
The Chief of the tribe said,
The proud Apache knows the ways of light.
But darkness came.
Children at the lawn,
Were slaughtered,
The future Adam and Eve,
Were killed,
Jesus cried,
In the sky,
Why do they twist my words?
Why do they kill my true birds?
Why?
Still to this very day,
Indians are prey.
It will stop,
You bet.
“Geronimo’s Revenge”
By Robert Moritz-Olsen
Geronimo put down,
His axe and gun.
They threatened,
To kill all his children,
Under the sun.
But lies will haunt you forever,
White man,
Of injustice.
Geronimo’s revenge,
Will be,
That the white man’s,
Conscience,
Will haunt him,
As he hunted down Geronimo.
All the evil intruders of Geronimo’s land,
Will pay for killing Eden,
In the name of God.
But God has seen their ways,
Of the snake.
Geronimo is safe,
In The hands of The Creator.
Bullets didn’t bite on him.
He was protected,
So his people one day,
Will again dare to dance The Ghost Dance, guarded by The Creator like Geronimo was guarded.
They will wake up Geronimo’s spirit,
In each and every Apache.
The Apache’s Ghost Dance,
Will spread like wildfire,
Just like in the wild west.
Ancient will be future,
And future will be ancient.
The wind will whisper,
Geronimo,
In each and every Apache heart.
“If I Were”
By Robert Moritz-Olsen
If I were to meet an Apache,
In the 19th century.
I would hold my hand,
In the height of my knee,
Like saying I am a child,
And point at the sun,
Ans then point at myself.
Son of The Sun,
That I would share,
In the coming years of learning,
The Apache language.
I would learn,
The secrets of the true tongue.
I would speak honest,
Not like the snakeminds,
Of my white brothers and sister,
In the civilization
Apache are civilized.
No wild flower,
Ever hurt anybody.
That is the way Apache want to live.
Your Eden, in our land.
That is your true Bible,
of living as us.
“Mountain Top”
By Robert Moritz-Olsen
A warrior is sitting on his horse,
At the mountain top.
He looks at the valley,
With all the fertile lives,
In the mysterious desert,
Soon to be conquered.
He is feeling what he does see.
He knows the eternal hunting grounds,
Exist.
They are just the same as the fields,
Of Mother Earth,
But eternal.
“Bow”
By Robert Moritz-Olsen
I bow down to the ground,
To pick up the bow and arrow,
Without a sound.
Apache warrior is awake.
He hits the target,
With his being and words.
The invisible arrow,
Hits the hearts of them all.
The silent flight,
Will kill the night,
Within his fellow Apaches.
Healing,
He does bow for the honor,
Of The Creator,
With his bow and arrow.
“The Drums of An Apache”
By Robert Moritz-Olsen
The Drums of an Apache,
will never end.
They have a healing power,
That will heal and mend,
The spirits,
Of the broke,
Broken Apache.
First Apache, trust me,
I give you all the cold night stars,
So many of them that they will transcend,
Into a warm sun,
Of coming dawn..
This warm sun,
Will trigger people,
To pay attention,
And listen for the first time,
To,
The Drums of An Apache.
Listen, put your head to the ground,
You hear a sound,
Of drums,
It is Mother Earth,
She gave you,
The Drums of An Apache,
Within your chest.