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Best Poems From
LAURENCE OVERMIRE
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41.
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Sitting Bull's Dream
Sitting Bull saw it in a dream
White men falling from the sky
And for a time
We believed
The prophecy was fulfilled
The soldiers came to kill us
Our women, our children
Our future, our dreams
Foolish men
They did not see
They join in the Ghost Dance
Now
Together in sorrow
Our blood flows like two rivers into one
Brothers we are
Brothers we have always been
Oh Mother Earth
Forgive us.
Truly
Now
There is a falling from the sky
The sacred hoop is broken
But different hands with different voice
Hear the ancient songs
And soon
All men will see
That truth and justice
Must
Prevail.
(Honorable Mention in The Jeremiah Reeves Poetry Prize For Justice, Uprising, Issue #5, Apr 1999; also published in Healing Voices,2001 Anthology, Vol.3; Thanal Online, Jun 2006; Honor and Remembrance, Indelible Mark Publishing,2007)
Laurence Overmire
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42.
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Smiley Face
Oh gosh darn it, Im so happy.
I just got back from church.
The reverend gave us all a healthy dose of denial
So we could pretend were not dying inside.
Would you like to help me make cookies for the bake sale?
(Previously published in The Pleasant Unicorn, Feb 2001)
Laurence Overmire
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43.
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Snowbound
He was snowed in
The roads were closed
He couldnt go to work
The fire was blazing
But the house was cold
A woman and two kids
Sat there staring
Wondering
Who the hell was this intruder?
There was no mail, no paper
The power was out
And he left his briefcase in the car
Buried under two feet of snow.
In the corner, snarling
Was that old dog Time
Unleashed
The mangy creature leaped
Sank yellow fangs into the poor mans neck
Dragged him up the stairs
Into the bathroom
And whirled him in front of the mirror
The man, terrified, gasped in horror
Surprised to see
For the very first time
Himself.
(Previously published in The Courtship of Winds, Issue 1, January 2000)
Laurence Overmire
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44.
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The Corset of Time
In 1900 women wore corsets
insisted upon by vanity
and mens eyes
strapped and pulled
within a frame
too tight to allow
infraction of proprieties
so strict, the full breath of lung
labored behind cramped
ribs to Adams disliking
eves under which
no bird would ever find
shelter.
(Previously published in Samsara Quarterly, Aug.2000, Vol.1, Issue 2)
Laurence Overmire
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