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.

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.

 

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.

 

Apache Horse
by Daryl Dazen Art
DARYLDAZEN@GMAIL.COM

 

“An Ancient Apache Horse”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

 

Once upon a time,
In the future.
The spirit of Geronimo,
Will ride An Ancient Apache Horse.

Feel the force,
Of the framed picture,
Of the source,
The Apache horse,
Origin from.

Do you feel the wind,
Riding over the spirit plains,
My dearest revived Geronimo.

The ones that started the Ghost Dance,
Are getting the reward from The Creator,
Eternal life,
Riding the plains of love,
On,
An Ancient Apache Horse.

 

“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.

 

“The Apache and The Crazy Norse”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

 

There is a vision,
We both do share.
You are there,
I am here.

The vision,
An awakened dream,
That does stream like words,
Two spirits,
Sailing the sky.

The eagles will land,
And take reality by hand.

This vision started,
In an Apache mind,
And in the Crazy Norse mind of mine,
Our words,
Are born to shine.

Light exists in the words,
Of an Apache,
And his Crazy Norse friend.

Both took a trip through history,
To a land,
At the Eden’s grand fields,
It is the beginning of all.

It might only be a vision,
But I have seen my dreams,
come true, manifested in real life.

We both got a vision of dreams,
An Apache and Crazy Norse,
Will proclaim reality,
Is all there is,
A kiss of The Creator’s true sky,
Of dreams coming through.

The Apache and The Crazy Norse.

 

“Tear of Geronimo”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

 

You drove a Cadillac,
Because they did drive you,
Out of Eden.

The Christians,
Crucified Adam and Eve,
In the name of Jesus Christ.

Jesus Christ does fight,
For Eden.

How many millenniums must,
The white man go through,
To understand Jesus Christ?

Jesus Christ,
Saw the tear of Geronimo.

All he lived for and in,
Were vanished,
By a flood of evilness.

The tear of Geronimo,
Is filled with blood.
He cried out to Heaven,
Where is God?

The Creator has not forgotten,
Your name and flame Geronimo.

Because some parts of you,
Were divine.

Your fight for The Garden of Eden.

The wind whispers the name,
Of Geronimo.
And says,
Amen.

 

“Flaming Eyes of Geronimo”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

 

The flaming eyes,
Of Geronimo,
Do never pause,
Do never die.

They burn truth into,
The face of white man’s lies.

How come,
All is gone?

Geronimo lived,
Under the sun.

What shall you do,
With what is left,
Of The Garden of Eden?

Flaming eyes,
Of Geronimo.

Flame,
His name,
No shame,
Do not blame.

Flaming eyes,
Of Geronimo,
Are not playing games,
Authentic flames.

Real deal,
Will finally heal,
The Garden of Eden.

Thanks to eyes,
Of no lies.

Geronimo.

 

“Mr. Geronimo Rising”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

 

Mr. Geronimo Rising,
He is a visitor from the past.

He embraces his enemies,
With his weapon of soul.

He is rising,
In a future,
That will suddenly,
Become a present moment of now.

How?

His soul is eternal,
The white man’s soul,
Is in jeopardy,
Of not becoming eternal,
Like Geronimo’s soul has become.

The Creator saw,
That Geronimo does not play,
Any games,
Like the white man does,
With all his false faces,
And all his insecurities.

The way of nature,
Is the way of The Creator.

Geronimo holds this vision,
Forever close to his soul.

He will rise
Again.

 

“The Silent Voice of Geronimo”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

 

The silent voice of Geronimo,
Says silent,
It commands you to listen,
It says, attention my tribe.

His body is gone,
His soul has flown,
But it visits us,
At every dawn of hope,
In our dreams.

These dreams are meant to be real.
Silence speaks loud.

Geronimo’s voice,
Says one chance.

Only one chance,
To enter The Garden of Eden.

Geronimo’s voice of silence,
Suddenly took physical form.

You can hear him,
In the wind.

You can feel him,
In your soul.

You remember Eden,
Don’t you?

Feel my child,
What is inside.
The Eden eyes,
Have to be opened.

These eyes can feel,
They kneel,
In deep, deep, reverence,
For The Creator.

Geronimo showed us the way.

The silent voice of Geronimo,
Is no more silent.

 

“Geronimo’s Arrow”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

 

There is an arrow,
That will always hit the target.

Geronimo’s arrow.

Geronimo is gone,
But his soul did never die.
He knows how to ride the winds,
With his horses which can fly.

In the hands of his soul,
There is a bow with an arrow,
That will hit the target.

This magic arrow,
Aimed at the sun.
It was picked up,
By Jim Morrison.

Jim’s Indian myth,
He found the arrow of all.
A Californian chief,
Rose when Geronimo did fall.

This Apache arrow,
Went from Geronimo,
To Jim,
And now I got it,
Because I followed him.

I do like these previous legends,
And I aim the arrow for the sun.
This child to be,
A spiritual son,
And grandson,
Of the legends.

The arrow flies,
In the skies,
Of pretty soon tomorrow.

Trust me Apache.

 

“The Only One Geronimo Bows For”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

 

The only ones,
Geronimo bows for,
The voices in the wind,
And the voices in the mountains.

These voices entered,
A protector of an Eden’s mind.

He looked at the sky,
He saw his people die,
He could not lie,
His sadness,
Did feel a sigh.

How come Creator?
He uttered in desperation.

He was broken,
But no one could ever brake,
His bow and arrow.

Broken but strong,
An ancient song faded,
Into a white man’s evil,
A silent repressed so-called joy.

Women did laugh,
No more.

Geronimo saw this so clearly,
As an eagle’s clarity of sight,
Of light.

But the iron horse has won,
See the tears of the sun,
His Eden was lost.

But dreams, my friend,
Do never end.

 

“I Hear Your Drums”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

 

I hear your drums,
Havasupai and Apache Nation.

You are so distant,
But still so close.

My drum is alone,
But the sound of your drums,
Reach me.

You are circled around me,
You heal me,
And you know my spirit,
Of the silenced war,
Of divine Indian meditation,
Will finally win,
You all see that in me.

I am cold,
But your distant presence,
Holds me close to you,
And keeps me warm.

I am alive,
And I got a purpose,
Of fate because of you.

You gave your heart to me,
Havasupai and Apache Nation.

I am yours.

 

“Out of The Mist”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

 

I am glad,
That Apache warrior exists.
He came riding on a horse,
Out of the mist.

He told me about,
The magic of all.
He said listen to the coyote,
When he calls.

He showed me the deep,
Reverence for every creation.
I am blessed, I met a man,
From the Apache Nation.

Without him,
I would have been nothing,
Not existing.

He is the hope.

 

“The Hawk Showed The Eagle”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

 

The Hawk showed The Eagle,
The reservation.
The Eagle cried,
When he saw the Apache Nation.

His cry was loud,
He saw Adam and Eve suffer.
In a corner of the world,
Where things are tougher.

Where everybody cried out,
For the summerrain.
Where every beautiful soul,
Was suffering in pain.

The Eagle said,
How did it come to be?
The freedom people,
Not allowed to be free?

The Eagle took a note of it,
With his every word.
He did shapeshift,
Into a talking bird.

He promised to fight,
With his verbal eye.
To fight for the Apache,
That did almost die.

The Creator heard the words,
The Eagle’s cry.
He will never let,
The Apache Nation die.

Dawn is what I offer.

 

“The Geronimo Campaign”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

 

The Geronimo Campaign,
Has begun.
The stupid white-eye thinks,
That the bullets will sink the sun.

Is there anything,
That should be done?
Yeah, wake up you idiot,
You blue-eyed son.

Don’t you understand,
That Adam’s and Eve’s skin was red?
No, you do not understand it,
Before all life on Mother Earth is dead.

The Geronimo campaign,
Has been brutal, it has failed.
Just as the mistake you did at Calvary,
You had a good man nailed.

How long will it take,
Before you see the soul of the sun?
And why do you erase God’s Eden,
For a so-called second Kingdom to come?

The Geronimo campaign,
Has failed at its very core.
Apache lives in an open tent,
White-eye lives behind a closed door.

 

“Leonard Peltier Was Stolen”

By Robert Moritz-Olsen

 

Leonard Peltier was stolen,
The reason, he was good.
They ripped him out,
Of his Indian neighborhood.

His fight for Native Americans,
Provoked “The Man”.
That rules with his evilness,,
To erase the Indian land.

But truth does win,
As it always does by the time.
Dear Leonard Peltier, soar like an eagle,
In the sky, of an Indian rhyme.

 

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