Organizing Notes

Bruce Gagnon is coordinator of the Global Network Against Weapons & Nuclear Power in Space. He offers his own reflections on organizing and the state of America's declining empire....

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Location: Bath, Maine, United States

Monday, November 12, 2012

HE'S GONE INJUN



Walking amongst the needles
The wind talking to Tatanka through the pines
Remembering the people
Whose faces appear in the rocks
Let’s not forget them
They knew how to live on this land

I’ve been here since the 60’s
When we pulled into town in that blizzard
The smell of the sweet grass
And the pounding of the drum
And the keening voices
Crawled inside me
My heart is with Wounded Knee

I recall telling the southern suburban kids
Back in the 80’s about the people
Drawing lines on the chalkboard
That suggested capitalism was killing
Our spirit and our mother

My son visited from the womb
But it’s in his blood now
He heard the drum too
It passes from one to another
The love for the people
Even if you don’t know it

My heart gets big when I see the hills that
Look black from a distance
The view from the wind swept butte
Reminds me that this land
Will always belong to our relatives

The arrogance of the white way
Drops dead in time
Like they say in the movies
He’s gone injun

1 Comments:

Blogger US Peace Council said...

beautiful

11/16/12, 6:12 PM  

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