Colin F. Jones

LIFE

God said go and multiply; but God was white,
And all the great lands served other kinds,
Some were red; some yellow some black as night,
None were more than servants in white minds.
In the name of their creator they maimed and slaughtered,
Under his name they invaded and claimed,
The lands of the free, which they severed and quartered,
Delivering up death til only the slaves remained.
They gave thanks to their God for the gifts he had given,
Rejoiced and prospered and poisoned the land,
By desire and greed their hungry minds were driven,
Because their God in his wisdom had given them a free hand.
So they sailed their boats down the rivers of tears,
But their affluence is not as stable as it often appears.

For they will drive far into the deserts in their automobiles,
Which will fail in the dust leaving them foot bound and lost,
Their ships will be wrecked in the flooding of the fields,
They had captured for nothing but now pay the cost.
Their God fails to help them; oh where is he hiding,
As he watches the steeples of his creatures all fall,
The unions and institutions are fractured and dividing,
Nature awaits the result of the inevitable war.
The fires are furious they are burning the temples.
They are destroying the cultures of all who are white;
Their God sees confusion among his disciples
As the final blast turns the daylight to a horrible night.
Tis all shattered the lies, the speculations and bias,
As the survivors wail knowing of the white people’s plight.

There is a hut by the river that from a cool spring is running,
Green plants are germinating from the freshening soil,
Those who know how to live are all busily consuming,
The magic of life that no native would spoil.
There is still competition, and mans desire for woman,
But the laws are not written by the white disciples of God,
Mother nature is captain Mother nature will govern,
That the spirits of life will be bourn from the sod.
There’s a red man a yellow man a white man and black,
A kaleidoscopic tribe that have survived to be one,
But some have gone hunting and have never come back,
No one it seems knows where the hunters have gone.
But in the distance the towers of temples are rising,
And the clouds have passed over the face of the sun.