Who Desecrated Geronimo’s Grave?
“elected politicians
government by the people
for the people?
which people? ”
free and equal
representation of the people?
go tell that to Native
Americans
see if they believe?
or African Americans
who had their votes
discounted so bonesman
Bush could steal Florida
steal the White House?
'crooking' America
Skull and Bones 322
stealers of the skull of eighth
President Martin Van Buren?
Skull and Bones 322
stealers of the skull of Pancho Villa
Mexican Revolutionary general?
Trivial pursuit
which American President’s
father and grandfather
desecrated Geronimo’s grave?
A clue? A clue?
Geronimo’s bones were supposedly
stolen by Skull and Bones members
'crooking' from Fort Sill Oklahoma.
A clue? A clue?
An anonymous letter with a photograph
and a copy of a log book claiming;
Skull & Bones stole Geronimo’s skull was sent
in 1986 to who? To who? Ned Anderson
former San Carlos Apache Chairman.
Skull & Bones officials, and group's attorney,
Endicott P. Davidson, denied S&B held
the skull, claiming the 1918 ledger a hoax.
In 2006 a 1918 letter from Skull & Bones
member Winter Mead to member F. Trubee
Davison claimed the theft was 'exhumed';
from Fort Sill by club 322 and Geronimo’s
skull was 'safe' in the club's headquarters.
The Facts: When and Where?
Six members of Yale secret society
Skull and Bones, including Prescott Bush;
were serving as Army volunteers at Fort Sill.
During World War I these six bonesmen
allegedly stole Geronimo's skull, femurs
and other bones; Geronimo's prized silver
bridle and saddle horn; buried in his grave!
Desecrated in the Apache Indian Prisoner
of War Cemetery at Fort Sill, Oklahoma!
Is it true? Is it true?
William Ramsey Clark former
United States Attorney General
filed a lawsuit in 2009 on behalf
of some of Geronimo's descendants!
Against, Barack Obama, Robert Gates,
and Skull and Bones, requesting
the return of Geronimo's bones!
Robert Gates still serves
as Secretary of Defense
in President Barack Obama's cabinet!
Was Barack Obama the first Black
bonesman or were there others?
From which dark secret society?
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Related quotes
Geronimo
I'm feeling kind of wild I have burned down a house
The pleasure is mine it may be sick and may be wrong
That's why I did it all on my own
Pain in my mind is for no one to find
Geronimo, Geronimo
I'm the world famous Geronimo
Geronimo, Geronimo
I'm a world famous man
The world has gone mad and I'm being bad
To all the people that is feeling sad
Scalps on the wall are the trophies I've made
From all the people that stood in my way
Geronimo, Geronimo
I'm the world famous Geronimo
Geronimo, Geronimo
I'm a world famous man
Someone once said that I'm acting strange
That someone ain't living no more
People get scared when I'm passing by
I am the man who brings fear in Your eyes
Geronimo, Geronimo
I'm the world famous Geronimo
Geronimo, Geronimo
I'm a world famous man
My journey began on the day I was born
Ever since then I've been hunted by a man
With a rifle and star he may give me a scare
Someday I promise to cut of his scalp
Geronimo, Geronimo
I'm the world famous Geronimo
Geronimo, Geronimo
I'm a world famous man
song performed by by Zonata
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Skull And Bones
Skull And Bones,
hands on the heart,
finger on the button...
chosen, and groomed,
covered by the veil,
world by design.
economics held,
population control,
Aids and starvation,
and war after war.
oil rigs, nuclear nights,
done step by step;
all part of the plan....
Skull And Bones!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Skull Ring
(feat. The Stooges)
Skull rings
Fast cars
Hot chicks
Money
Skull rings
Fast cars
Hot chicks
Fancy things
The touch of a hand in the wasteland
you're walking asleep and dreaming cheap
A bird's wing don't beat for free
You're freezing cold and your family
Skull rings
Fast cars
Hot chicks
Money
Skull rings
Fast cars
Hot chicks
Fancy things
Fingers on fire to do what's bad
Ring on the finger is a skull man
Strong as a bar of steel
Weakness is that you can't feel
Skull rings
Fast cars
Hot chicks
Money
Skull rings
Fast cars
Hot chicks
Fancy things
My life is dirtied, my mind is loaded
I'm feeling and breathing and fighting
To see
People get ready now
Baby come on give your heart to me
Skull rings
Fast cars
Hot chicks
Money
Skull rings
Fast cars
Hot chicks
Fancy things
song performed by by Iggy Pop
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ghost-Cycle
They argue and fight over dead bones,
One of them is a skull making him ill.
There is utter disbelief, just decaying bones
Ready for burial like no other corpse.
Some say it will grow and inhibit us
By rejecting our ways and entering our affairs.
Some say we see and hear everything it says,
But the deceit is maximum, all the time
That we find it invisible from some satanic source.
Since the universe follows laws too special
It, the corpse, betrays us and its task
To fail as bones and so it goes on in the cycle.
poem by Naveed Akram
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The Buddha in the Womb
Bobbing in the waters of the womb,
little godhead, ten toes, ten fingers
& infinite hope,
sails upside down through the world.
My bones, I know, are only a cage
for death.
Meditating, I can see my skull,
a death's head,
lit from within
by candles
which are possibly the suns
of other galaxies.
I know that death
is a movement toward light,
a happy dream
from which you are loath to awaken,
a lover left
in a country
to which you have no visa,
& I know that the horses of the spirit
are galloping, galloping, galloping
out of time
& into the moment called NOW.
Why then do I care
for this upside-down Buddha
bobbling through the world,
his toes, his fingers
alive with blood
that will only sing & die.
There is a light in my skull
& a light in his.
We meditate on our bones only
to let them blow away
with fewer regrets.
Flesh is merely a lesson.
We learn it
& pass on.
poem by Erica Jong
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Rum & Red Bull (being a day after her birthday poem)
Out of our skull
on Rum & Red Bull
we play football
with a grinning
plastic skull
(retrieved from a skip)
using the Momento Mori
for a drunken kickabout.
You dribble
& drool it.
You shoot
I save it
tipping it over
an imaginary crossbar.
Spectacular!
I bathe
in an imaginary roar.
I clutch
the skull
to my chest
begin to spout:
'Toby
(or not)
Toby
... that is the jug! '
'Oi...! ' you shout
'Me Lord Hamlet
...over here
on de head! '
I dropp kick
the skull
(grinning still)
in your general
direction.
I can see
two of you
& don't know who
to pass it too.
You rise
beautifully to
the occasion
losing a stiletto
in the process
your body arched
like a sublime salmon
jumping
upstream
you head the skull home
past my groping outstretched fingertips
'GOALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLGOALL LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL! '
you scream
your blouse
over your head
in exultant
celebration.
A 'Now then...now then' police man
confiscates our skull.
Tells us
to bugger off.
'Awwww Ref! '
we argue but
he ain't
having any of it.
Hanging on
to each other
you ululating.
We stagger
down the street
look back
to see
P.C. Plod
miskick the skull
through someone's sleeping
window
crashtinkletinkle.
We wonder if
he'll have to
arrest
himself.
We scarper
in case he tries
to blame it
on innocent us.
poem by Dónall Dempsey
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Redundant.
.
The skull that grins upon my desk
I picked up at a car boot sale
Although my taste me seen grotesque.
The skull reminds me without fail.
As he is now so will I be.
In time to come I too must die
I don't suppose he thought that he.
Would end up as a bargain buy.
When I am dead my skull may be.
An ornament that's on display.
On someone's desk quite possibly
What does it matter anyway.
Though it was mine it is not me.
It never was nor will it be.
Saturday,08 September 2012
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Turn Around
I was working all night in my office
When a man I had recently killed
Called me up from a phone near my building
So I looked out the window at him
He had the same obsequious manner
That was the reason I had him killed
So to calm my nerves I sang this song
To him, over the phone
Turn around, turn around
Theres a thing there that can be found
Turn around, turn around
Its a human skull on the ground
Human skull on the ground
Turn around
I was out by myself in the graveyard
I was doing an interpretive dance
When I felt something heavy and pointed
Strike me in the back of the neck
And then the ghost of my dance instructor
Pushed me down into an open grave
And as dirt rained down she played a xylophone
And sang me this song
Turn around, turn around
Theres a thing there that can be found
Turn around, turn around
Its a human skull on the ground
Human skull on the ground
Turn around
We were waving our arms out the window
Of a fast moving passenger train
Acting in an irresponsible fashion
Until the engineer whose back had been turned
And who we thought would find us highly amusing
Quickly swiveled his head around
And his face which was a paper-white mask of evil
Sang us this song
Turn around, (round) turn around (round)
Theres a thing there that can be found (theres a thing there that can be)
Turn around, (found) turn around (round)
Its a human skull on the ground (its a human skull on the)
Human skull (ground) on the ground (round)
Turn around (turn around, turn around)
Turn around, (round) turn around (round)
Theres a thing there that can be found (theres a thing there that can be)
Turn around, (found) turn around (round)
Its a human skull on the ground (its a human skull on the)
Human skull (ground) on the ground (round)
Turn around (turn around, turn around)
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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First Clown: A pestilence on him for a mad rogue! a' poured a flagon of Rhenish on my head once. This same skull, sir, was Yorick's skull, the king's jester.
line from Hamlet, Act V, Scene 1 by William Shakespeare (1599)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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If you're an archaeologist, I bet it's real embarrassing to put together a skull from a bunch of ancient bone fragments, but then it turns out it's not a skull but just an old dried-out potato.
Jack Handey in Deep Thoughts
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Skull Beneath The Skin
The Skull Beneath the Skin" by Megadeth
Mean and infectious
the evil prophets rise
Dance of the macabre
as witches streak the sky
Decadent worship of
black magic and sorcery
In the womb of the devils dungeon
trapped without a plea
See thing in agony
necrosis is the fate
pins sticking through the skin
the venom now sedates
Locked in a pillory
nowhere to be found
Screaming for your life
but no one hears a sound
HHHEELLLPPPP MMMMEEEEEEEE
Prepare the patients scalp
to peel away
metal caps for his ears
he'll hear NOT what we say
solid steel visor
riveted cross his eyes
Iron staples close his jaws
so no one hears his cries
The skull beneath the skin
Now you're drawn and quartered
your bones will make the X
symbol stands for poison
and it's chained to your head
And as we fold your arms
to make the holy cross
We cross the crucifix
religion has been lost
The skull beneath the skin
song performed by by Megadeth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One should not forget that there are very few surviving items from this period, often just single, small bones, a tooth, a sliver of the skull. Categorizing these pieces can be very difficult.
quote by Richard Leakey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fair Play
Fair play to you
Killarneys lakes are so blue
And the architecture Im taking in with my mind
So fine...
Tell me of poe
Oscar wilde and thoreau
Let your midnight and your daytime turn into love of life
Its a very fine line
But youve got the mind child
To carry on
When its just about to be
Carried on...
And theres only one meadows way to go
And you say geronimo
Theres only one meadows way to go
And you say geronimo
A paperback book
As we walk down the street
Fill my mind with tales of mystery, mystery...
And imagination
Forever fair
And Im touching your hair
I wish we could be dreamers
In this dream, ohhh
Let it dream
And theres only one meadows way to go
And you say geronimo
And theres only one meadows way to go
And you say geronimo
Fair play to you
Killarneys lakes are so blue
High-ho silver, tit for tat
And I love you for that
High-ho silver, tit for tat
And I love you for that, love you for that, love you for that
High-ho silver, tit for tat, tit for tat
And I love you for that
High-ho silver, tit for tat, hah!
Yeah, yeah
And I love you for that
And theres only one meadows way to go
And i, and I say geronimo
And theres only one meadows way to go
And we say geronimo
Geronimo
And theres only one meadows way to go
And we say geronimo
And theres only one meadows way to go
And we say geronimo
Fair play to you
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tom Paine
An Englishman was Thomas Paine
Who bled for liberty;
But while his fight was far from vain
He died in poverty:
Though some are of the sober thinking
'Twas due to drinking.
Yet this is what appeals to me:
Cobbet, a friend, loved him so well
He sailed across the surly sea
To raw and rigid New Rochelle:
With none to say: 'Take him not from us!'
He raped the grave of Thomas.
And in his library he set
These bones so woe-begone;
I have no doubt his eyes were wet
To scan that skeleton.
That grinning skull from which in season
Emerged the Age of Reason.
Then Cobbet in his turn lay dead,
And auctioneering tones
Over his chattels rudely said:
'Who wants them bloody bones?'
None did, so they were scattered far
And God knows where they are.
A friend of Franklin and of Pitt
He lived a stormy span;
The flame of liberty he lit
And rang the Rights of Man.
Yet pilgrims from Vermont and Maine
In hero worship seek in vain
The bones of Thomas Paine.
poem by Robert William Service
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Listen...
There is a knocking in the skull,
An endless silent shout
Of something beating on a wall,
And crying, “Let me out!”
That solitary prisoner
Will never hear reply.
No comrade in eternity
Can hear the frantic cry.
No heart can share the terror
That haunts his monstrous dark.
The light that filters through the chinks
No other eye can mark.
When flesh is linked with eager flesh,
And words run warm and full,
I think that he is loneliest then,
The captive in the skull.
Caught in a mesh of living veins,
In cell of padded bone,
He loneliest is when he pretends
That he is not alone.
We’d free the incarcerate race of man
That such a doom endures
Could only you unlock my skull,
Or I creep into yours.
poem by Ogden Nash
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Climbing Up The Walls (Zero 7 Mix)
I am the key to the lock in your house
that keeps your toys in the basement,
and if you get too far inside
you'll only see my reflection.
See her face when she sleeps tonight,
I am the pick in the ice,
do not cry out or hit the alarm,
we are we're friends till we die.
And either way you turn I'll be there,
open up your skull, I'll be there
climbing up the walls.
It's always best when the light is off,
it's always better on the outside,
in the crack of your wanting smile,
fifteen blows to the skull.
So tuck the kids in safe tonight,
and shut the eyes in the cupboard.
do not cry out or hit the alarm,
you'll get the loneliest feeling
that either way you turn I'll be there,
open up your skull, I'll be there
climbing up the walls.
Climbing up the walls.
Climbing up the walls
song performed by by Radiohead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Skull & Bones
A grisly symbol of what evil men can do
This Skull & Bones symbol of destruction
Aggression toward neighbors they pursue
By using methods of leadership seduction
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
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Barack Obama
Barack Obama, Barack Obama,
Change, you must the world;
Barack Obama, Barack Obama,
But do you have the gold?
Barack Obama, Barack Obama,
People need more jobs;
Barack Obama, Barack Obama,
You must stop their sobs.
Barack Obama, Barack Obama,
Wars are just futile;
Barack Obama, Barack Obama,
Let peace remain awhile.
Barack Obama, Barack Obama,
Prices must be cut;
Barack Obama, Barack Obama,
None can live in hut.
Barack Obama, Barack Obama,
Energy is prime;
Barack Obama, Barack Obama,
Work in any clime.
Barack Obama, Barack Obama,
Pollution must stop;
Barack Obama, Barack Obama,
Make a friendlier cop.
Barack Obama, Barack Obama,
Should the unborn die?
Barack Obama, Barack Obama,
Live, they shouldn’t but why?
Barack Obama, Barack Obama,
Change is what you need;
Barack Obama, Barack Obama,
Pluck away the weed!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 1-18-2009
poem by John Celes
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The Fury Of Beautiful Bones
Sing me a thrush, bone.
Sing me a nest of cup and pestle.
Sing me a sweetbread fr an old grandfather.
Sing me a foot and a doorknob, for you are my love.
Oh sing, bone bag man, sing.
Your head is what I remember that August
you were in love with another woman but
that didn't matter. I was the guy of your
bones, your fingers long and nubby, your
forehead a beacon, bare as marble and I worried
you like an odor because you had not quite forgotten,
bone bag man, garlic in the North End,
the book you dedicated, naked as a fish,
naked as someone drowning into his own mouth.
I wonder, Mr. Bone man, what you're thinking
of your fury now, gone sour as a sinking whale,
crawling up the alphabet on her own bones.
Am I in your ear still singing songs in the rain,
me of the death rattle, me of the magnolias,
me of the sawdust tavern at the city's edge.
Women have lovely bones, arms, neck, thigh
and I admire them also, but your bones
supersede loveliness. They are the tough
ones that get broken and reset. I just can't
answer for you, only for your bones,
round rulers, round nudgers, round poles,
numb nubkins, the sword of sugar.
I feel the skull, Mr. Skeleton, living its
own life in its own skin.
poem by Anne Sexton
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Alunan 5
Poet travelling over water
befriend the wind
let it ride easy
in the hollows
of your bones
open your bosom
for wind to go through
storm rising
fron the abyss
could pitch your
on the rocks
blow the skull apart
for darkness and sun
coldness and heat
to flow in without staying
salt-caked and split
your tongue will breed
secret words
of the wind's singing
now then
will the wind
command the billows
to bear you
the tide to lay your bones
under the moon
to bleach wothout rancor
without bliss everything forgiven
your name that wind spells
on water the syllables
so very kindly
very gently leave
where it will
posted by merlie alunan @ 12: 18 AM
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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