The landscspe

All the noise… all the movement… the plans… the dreams… the merriment… done! A stretched out landscape of hauntingly human waste, wailing to be considered at whoever may be unfortunate enough to still be silently navigating through its decaying remnants. Billions dead… people who were in the midst of their lives without a clue, cut down like vines from a machete in the hand of a murderous prison escapee. The smell of fresh death long since gone and replaced with a now ever invading scent of ancient human tragedy. The world my troubled spirit walks in is much like this picture. Years ago I was diagnosed with a type of schizophrenia. Whether it’s genuinely my issue or just the lingering effects of the damage done to my psyche by all the hard drugs I can’t say. I’m functional… and I don’t hide anymore behind such psychological disorder titles. Nuts? Lol… no I don’t believe so. I just see emptiness where others see volume and vice versa… this is just my way. If I’ve said anything to offend ur sensitivities on certain topics I’ve written about it wasn’t my intention. Although I’m me and ur u we should still be respectfully civil when engaging each other to share new ideas. I have an ocean of knowledge on things u have no awareness of. I don’t say this to boast but it’s fact. My special areas of expertise though, I’ll truthfully say are wild, unorthodox, and completely untrained. Which is why I constantly use fire as a metaphor for myself and my so self-observed mind. If u enjoy what u read I’m pleased… may it benefit u on ur own road in which ever way it can… if u find offense, I apologize but also please… pay the mad Muslim poet no mind and push unfriend. Pack Redfeather….

Published by Pack Redfeather

I am a walking contradiction of traditions some say. An African American and Native American Muslim poet with a personal life history as violently turbulent as a Storm. A visionary from the bottom of life’s social barrel striving to share the hope found in the light of faith through sometimes dark but real poetry. I’m a former member of the Bloods street gang, former serial bank robber, and both federal/state prison convict. I live on my mother’s tribal reservation of the Leech Lake band of Ojibwe in Minnesota.

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