The Algonquin Native American Church

08/30/2022

to my late uncle Tom I will miss you and because you were a warrior and veteran I give you this simple poem ....one last time into the fray. to fight the last good fight I will ever know. live and die on this day. live and die on this day...

04/29/2022

Amazing

05/04/2020

Good afternoon friends and family we love you all

10/28/2019

To my wife Michelle Phillips
I fell asleep one dreary day
I lost my will, I lost my way
I ran from all I ever knew
And feared the call I was supposed to pursue.
I drank from wells set on fire
And filled the voids of my soul with unholy desires.
I dressed the part to play the role
And slowly began to lose my soul.
But, when your down and
Shadows grow
And you finally have nowhere else to go
The only way to rise again
Was from the power of my wife my very best friend.
Many leave when you’re at your worst
When your hearts so heavy, it’s about to burst
Many claim so many titles
Their efforts are futile and their time is idle
Their promises bleed through the incisions
For they can’t possibly understand lifes mission.
This Battle has been the hardest in my life
And memories and fear have played with my mind
But, I keep marching like any native man would
Even though most of the time I am misunderstood.
I keep on fighting the forces and my fears,
Knowing each day she will wipe away every tears.
I keep on giving it my best even when it’s not enough
For she's the only one holds my heart when the waves get too rough.
I keep on believing that one magnificent day
I will see true glory wash away all my yesterdays
I keep on believing that one marvelous day will come,
I will see the gates of my destiny enrapture my today.

10/27/2019

please leave a like and please comment on any posts you would like to see more of from page adman strong eyes Phillips

10/18/2019

I am The love child
of inspiration and imagination,
The poet in me is the spirit of who I am a shaman
walking among you
but dwelling in the realms
of speculation and spiritualism…
a wandering spirit from the astral plane.

Nourished by the melancholy light
of the waning gibbous moon,
I ride the pale tide’s low ebb
thriving on the sandy shores of life
inscribing abiding thoughts on
the sands, stones and winds,
on the hearts, souls and minds.

10/18/2019

To my beautiful native wife Michelle Phillips (flower)
Different eyes, the same world
Ancient skin, dirty Indian Girl
Smokey, eyes, exotic raven hair
---Now listen to the colors, of transformation,
On the day she was born, the wind blew in,
A blessing ---her soul, fallen from the heavens
A gorgeous puff of smoke, my Miss Virginia Slim

Able to walk the world with an open mind, she twirls
Flower, one of her many names.
She carves, and climbs on trees, this little Indian Girl,
Her feathers ride with the wind, against her red titian skin
Daughter of a Chief , a powerful tribal, red man
Peace and love with the Indians of her NC land,

Many myths, many stories, maybe a mad woman,
Not a Christian, living sad poverty, a silent hero,
Twisted tales, from savage green to ivory white religion
In her eyes, life never was about greed and skin
Her new look attained an altitude precision
Flower tricked and captured,
Set to sail another tribe, lands were taken over,
Boat sailed out

Tribes acclaimed her to be wild and ambitious
"The naughty one," searching for admission
Native American child, a princess,
Her beautiful soul, a short auspicious beginning
Leaving her world, beautiful and fearless
Never Forgetting her roots-- From Mother Willow's Vision
Flower, the Indian Legend my wife

10/18/2019

My grandfather is the fire
My grandmother is the wind
The Earth is my mother
The Great Spirit is my father
The World stopped at my birth
and laid itself at my feet
And I shall swallow the Earth whole
when I die
and the Earth and I will be one
Hail The Great Spirit, my father
without him no one could exist
because there would be no will to live
Hail The Earth, my mother
without which no food could be grown
and so cause the will to live to starve
Hail the wind, my grandmother
for she brings loving, lifegiving rain
nourishing us as she nourishes our crops
Hail the fire, my grandfather
for the light, the warmth, the comfort he brings
without which we be animals, not men
Hail my parent and grandparents
without which
not I
nor you
nor anyone else
could have existed
Life gives life
which gives unto itself
a promise of new life
Hail the Great Spirit, The Earth, the wind, the fire
praise my parents loudly
for they are your parents, too
Oh, Great Spirit, giver of my life
please accept this humble offering of prayer
this offering of praise
this honest reverence of my love for you.

By H. Kent Craig

09/20/2019

The Shaman. The Shaman has the ability to commune with the spirit world whilst in a trance of altered consciousness. Through the spirits and the creatures of the unknown, the shaman practices the arts of divination and healing.

09/20/2019

09/16/2019

Drinking from the waters of sorrow sustains a different kind of life. This river is hidden from the rest of the world. Tears drip and fall into an endless flow of liquid sadness. This river sparkles with with endless pain