Raven Jake Dawes

The Cactus Patch

I wandered lost in the night                                                           

Tired of horse and horse of man

Until I stumbled blindly in the sand

Upon a cabin in the wild

 

To stay the night of fearsome wind

And blowing sand in comfort

Relative of heaven in this place

Of cold and sandy blast

 

A cactus patch with all the benefits

Of hearth and home welcomes,

Soothes the sore foot, back and head

A comfy bed chases out the raging sky

 

-Raven Jake Dawes, December 2007

Cactus Patch Cabin

Cabazon Band of Mission Indians Pow Wow

Powwow_1

The Cabazon Band of Mission Indians holds an annual Pow Wow in Indio every November following Thanksgiving at the Fantasy Springs casino. Dancers wearing amazing costumes compete for cash in a number of categories based on traditional Plains Indian dances. Native culture is celebrated and vendors provide food, crafts and other articles for the (mostly) American Indian participants.       

 

 

Cabazon Band of Mission Indians 

 

 

 

Powwow_2

Dia de los Muertos

 

Pineapple dancers

 

Muertos

Dia De Los Muertos, the Day of the Dead, is celebrated by the Latino community on the first and second of November, just after Halloween. At this time, the dead may come back to visit relatives and those they left behind and so celebrants decorate graveyards to welcome home the departed. Interestingly enough, in the pagan calendars of the Wiccan and Norse traditions, this time of year is the time when the three worlds are closest to each other and shades, deities and the spirits of all manner of folk may cross into the other spheres with ease. These photos were snapped at the Hollywood Forever Cemetery in 2005. 

Hollywood Forever Cemetery 

Dias de los Muertos 

 

 

 

Three amigos

Muerta

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Story Cliffs

Raven Jake and Smoke Tree

STORY CLIFFS

 

Red cliffs loom over twisting green snake river

Wild and strange in the heat of day

Wild and stranger still by starry firmament lit

Dour demons of another time

 

Ancient spirits with forgotten names

Watch over this place

Threatening to plunge down

And rid this cut of strangers

 

Pages of unspoken history

Rise in print of Gods too old to know

Above, around and there ahead

The augery of futures past

 

I hear them now and then

In the thunder of the river drumming

In the whisper of the smoke trees

Speaking the stories of the Old Ones

 

Skinwalker Hill

SKINWALKER HILL

Coyote_drum

 

What do you see out in the dark,

Just beyond the light

Is it man or beast or something else

A wandering in the night

 

What’s that peeking in your window

Or scratching at your door

Just and old coyote

Or maybe something more

 

Folks say strange things still fill the night

Up here where it seems darker

I don’t think it feels so bad

But then, I’m called Skinwalker

 

Skinwalker Hill was a burial ground

I’ve heard the old ones say

And oft I’ve danced with Ancestral Ghosts

That leave at break of day

 

I come here mostly in the night

‘Cause no one’s ever ‘round

Sometimes I even howl a bit

Old Wolf, He taught me sounds

 

There’s magic in this place you see

That I feel inside my bones

Old spirits come to chant and drum

This place is my true home

 

Being the spawn of a medicine man

And a pretty, gold haired girl

I don’t fit in just anywhere

This hilltop is my world

 

The folks in town don’t bug me much

I’m a son of Mother Earth

Like wolves and hawks and snakes and such

We’re predators from birth

 

If you decide to come up here

Be sure to come prepared

Bring offerings for my critters

Or be ready to be scared

 

It’s a trip you won’t forget, I think

I guarantee a thrill

Come visit Raven Jake Dawes world

Atop Skinwalker Hill

 

 

Night

NIGHT

 

Shadows pursue daylight prey into liquid evening

Wild things gather round about

Welcome in arroyos of night

Cast as runes of crystal moonlight

Thrown careless among stones scatterings

Suddenly grown fleeting faces by firelight

 

Smoke transforms to Diva Dancers

To writhe and tantalize and quickly disappear

The sound of but a single shooting star

Rushing past sets

Smoketrees to wispering

Stories of the Olden Days

When Earth Herself was young and firm

With fecund promise bless’d

 

Breathe in the perfume of the desert night

And exhale the stars

To sleep amid the wonders

To dream perchance of you

 

Coyote Songs

COYOTE SONGS

 

Coyote sings to the purple night

Stars smile down from above

His brothers answer from far mountain tops

Their mournful calls fill my dreams

 

The Raven's Tale

A long time ago, before the people had stories to tell, the Olden gods were sitting around the fire telling of the things they had done.  Lluvia, the wind god, said that she had blown down a canyon and taught the trees a whispering song.  That seemed like a right nice thing to have done, so the great spirit told the rocks (who live the longest of all the creatures that the great spirit made) to remember what Lluvia had said. 

 

When they nodded their heads a landslide sent some rocks into the gods’ camp, and everyone laughed.  The fire god, who was not to be outdone by such a simple story stood up and gestured everyone to silence.  He always did this so they would know that what he had to say was very important. When all the gods were quiet, he began.  “That was a silly, silly thing to do.  I did something of great importance today” he said. 

 

Lluvia was mortally offended at his demeaning her gentle creation and stood up and walked away from the consul saying, “Very well, from this day forward I, too shall do as I please, without the permission of the consul and you shall see how mighty the rain can be!” 

 

There was a great furor among the gods but the fire god ignored her and continued, “I came upon a place that was surrounded by mountains.  It was like a water gourd and was filled with sweet water.  Since no one was there to drink the water, I told the sun to dry it all up into the clouds and make the valley full of salt.”  Clearly expecting to be praised for this mighty effort, the fire god puffed out his great chest and looked around.  No one was smiling.  The great spirit was not smiling, and he said.  “That was truly a mighty deed, but you did not speak in consul with any of us before you dried up that lake.

 

Lluvia had just filled that bowl with water, a mighty deed to be sure, but she is not as boastful as you, and so did not speak of it.  As it happens I, myself had just created some people and had put them in a cave near that lake so they would have water to drink.  Tomorrow I was going to fill that lake with fish and awaken the people to a land of plenty, but now they will surely starve.  Lluvia has left the gathering and I fear she will not be helpful for some time.  What are we to do for the people that I have made?”

 

A croaky voice came from high up in a tree, it was Raven, who had been listening to the gods talking for many nights and knew all their doings, both good and bad. He opened his wings and glided gently down onto the arm of the Great Spirit. The ancient one had a special fondness for Raven as he was one of the Great Spirits first creations.  “May I speak to the consul, oh Great Spirit?” cawed Raven.  “Of course, you are wise and know many things,” was the Creator’s reply.

 

The fire god was enraged.  “We are the mighty gods of the world!  I will not listen to the jabberings of a mere bird!”, and with that he turned himself into a huge column of smoke and flames and swirled off to the other side of the world to find the sun.  “Impressive,” croaked Raven with a sly wink.  The other gods laughed as they too found Fire to be more than a bit pompous.  “Since he has chosen not to take part, he may not complain too much about the outcome.”  Said Great Spirit “Speak, Raven, if your plan be of merit you may ask a boon of me.” 

 

So Raven began to outline his plan.  “I will speak to my Cousins the Deer People, the Sheep People and the Plant Spirits.  I will persuade them to offer themselves to your new creations for food, shelter and the like, but the new people that you have made must be made to know of this wondrous gift in some way and be taught to value this great sacrifice.  As for my part, I will help the people you have made in this by telling them the doings of this council to help them understand how the world was made and how they must live within it.   I will give them stories and teach them to remember and tell them forever to their children.”

 

The Great Spirit smiled and said, “Raven you have spoken wisely and well.  What would you have us grant you?”  Raven tilted his head and thought for a moment, shifting is feet.  The he spoke.  “As for my boon, oh Great Spirit, it is simply that I may have your leave to tell all the stories, good and bad, so that the people may better understand the doings of their gods.” The Gods were troubled and many spoke against Raven at this since they were not so proud of some of the things that they had done and a great murmuring began among them.  “This is an impudent request,” said Great Spirit, although his heart was deeply troubled.  “I will grant this request as I have given my word, but you must be punished for asking for such a thing.” 

 

A cold stillness rose up from the ground below them.  The God of Death had joined the consul.  Her hissing rattle of a voice silenced the others instantly.  “Oh, Great Spirit, my brother, as you know I take little notice of the doings of this consul as all will join me in the end even the Gods.  But I would ask a favor of you and may solve this problem with noble Raven.” 

 

Great Spirit looked even more troubled but spoke quietly “Speak, my sister.”  “Very well, I require a helper to bring the people you have made into my realm.  Great Warriors, the Mothers of the Tribes, and all of the people you have made.  I need a guide for them.  Long have I admired the darkness of Raven’s feathers, punish him by making him my agent, the Agent of Death.”  The Gods were in an uproar.   Raven sat silently on Great Spirit’s arm.  “Very well,” he said.

Brother Coyote

BROTHER COYOTE

Raven jake 1

 

Sun Dogs Snarlin’ down from a bleached bone yellow sky

Fry the top of my head like bacon in a skillet made by Stetson

My brain is bubblin’ with sideways thinkin’, mirage things dance over rocks,

Hardpan, and creasote bush sway in the desert’s hot breath.

 

Where’s that spring my blistered feet used to know?

The civil engineers they come along and stole it up,

And tamed it, put in a pipe and took it all away.

Seems some new golf course needs a wet down

 

More than wild critters need a drink

Nothing civil about that to my way of thinkin’.

Brother Coyote, I see you’re as mad with the thirst as me

Here, old friend, I’ll pour us one last round

 

Poor payment for the songs you taught me in the night.

But it’s all I have to share, you sorry old son of a gun, you deserve far better.

The spring is gone, the range is going,

open space is gettin’ scarce these days.

Drink up, old dog, drink up to songs that thrill the night

The scent of greasewood on your skin

 

And prancing pups dancing under the shining silver moon.

We two are quite a sight, boy, you and me.

Well the sun dogs are finally movin’ west a bit,

They’ve cast some shade for us, I think

We may just last the night.

 

Old Mister Rattler

Mojave green

OLD MISTER RATTLER

You seem a proud sorta feller Mister Rattler

Dressed up fine like in yer handsome Sunday best

You look  better’n I ever could endeavor

Even in my brand new coat and vest

 

Mister Rattler, Mama Nature musta really loved you some

To dress you up like that

You blend into the desert

You don’t even need a hat!

 

Nature even gave you music,

Them maracas that you play

To tell the stumble footed folks

To jes’ plain stay away

 

Why do people hate you?

Guess they just don’t understand

You got more right to be out here

Than any living man

 

But with our houses and our highways,

Our big cars and fancy clothes,

We just keep pushing out at you

An that’s just how it goes

 

Mister Rattler you’re so pretty,

With those diamonds on your back

Seems a goddamn pity,

To put you in this sack

 

But, Old Boy, I promise,

I will spirit you away

To where the air is clean and clear

And Mother Nature has her way

 

Far off of the beaten track my friend

There’s a place where rattlers roam

Way out upon the desert,

Where you and me, we got a home