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Native American Grandmother Poems | Native American Poems About Grandmother

These Native American Grandmother poems are examples of Native American poems about Grandmother. These are the best examples of Native American Grandmother poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Rhyme | |

Learning to accept who I am

When I was a child I went to my first pow wow, my mother is part Cherokee
I had never been to one before, I couldn't believe it was a part of me
Soon after, the questions about my heritage began
I read very many books so I  could learn what I can
I had never met my mother's mother but soon we would meet
Weeks later I was in her house, and ushered into a seat
A woman came out of a bedroom, I knew we were related
She looked just like my mother, even more than I had anticipated
I had no filter back then, but I was obsessed with her looks
Before I had a chance to stop myself, I told her she looked like the people in my books
Fortunately she didn't take offense she just flashed a toothless smile
I didn't want to look away I just stared at her for a while
She had strong Native features, her long hair braided down her spine
I was in awe of my grandmothers features they were so defined
She told me to come over and sit on her knee
She said to my mother,"She looks like me".
She played with my hair and commented on the length.
She told me to never cut my long hair, it was my strength.
She told me I was a beautiful child something I'd never heard.
My sisters said I was ugly, that was their favorite word.
After our short visit my mother drove back home
I never saw my grandmother again, I was on my own.
I had low self-esteem by the time I was in second grade
Because my school was not diverse, my ego paid
I refused to ignore my heritage, I wanted to honor my grandmother
So when I had to circle my race on standardized tests, I purposely checked other.
I kept my pride until I moved to my sister's who abused me
So I cut my hair very short because I looked at life differently
I ignored my heritage until I went to family court, I was 14 by then
My mother petitioned for me to be sent to a reservation in foster care where she had been
The court said I can't, though the paperwork had been filed
The Eastern Band of Cherokee said they wouldn't intervene.I wasn't considered an "Indian Child"
I was used to being rejected by people, but not a whole tribe
I no longer acknowledged that part of me, I lost my pride
I no longer had an identity, but I still had that letter
I forgot about my grandmother, I never should've met her.
Then last year a stranger stopped me on the street
He said I have to mixed with something my features are so unique
I was caught off guard and didn't think he was referring to me
But I've had many people tell me this, so I proudly said, I'm part Cherokee.



Details | Free verse | |

Pure Of Heart

Wise Grandfather Shaman, 
I am pure of Heart,
I bathe beneath the Moon, 
and dry beneath the Sun,
I listen to the Wind,
I run with the Deer,
I hunt with the Wolves,
I fish with the Eagles and Hawks,
I ride with the Wild Paints,
And roam with the Buffalo,
I grow with Grandmother Tree,
Ever learning from her Wisdom, 
I am skilled in Warrior Ways,
A strong Hunter, 
A compassionate Listener,
A patient Tracker,
I have gathered with the other women,
Contributing to our tribes growth and strength,
I leave no tracks of moccasins in the soft clay,
My heart is pure,
And I wish to continue my journy,
Wise Grandfather Shaman,
Allow me to enter your lodge,
I will smoke from the sacred pipe,
My heart is pure.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

PORTAGE

PORTAGE
I know it is not ‘nothing’ but white men in Ireland and the few niggers (on the up and up) that come from Scotland to party in those Pubs. My ancestors on my great great great grandmother side were from the immigrant Irish clan; therefore, Haley, Creek Indian, married a white man. She had Cherokee and Blackhawk blood to. Her family flourished in lineage and the skin comes in all colors. Note this! We are called the colored Sexton’s because Haley’s great granddaughter married a Guinea. The story became we are the colors of the United States of America. O’ jealousy manifested and now, I am the structure of the colored Sextons! Our story will be told. Therefore, our belief and faith is transcendent via the Holy Scripture, In God We Trust! _________________________| PENNED ON AUGUST 31, 2014!


Details | Free verse | |

In My Community

Our Ancestors fought to the death,
Just so we can live a brighter day,
So before you light up that blunt of meth,
Think about what you’re giving away,
It was a glad day in history when Obama rose to victory,
The first black president was all we knew,
Dark skin is in!
Haven’t you heard?
That even in our community, 
You can get burned,
It’s a sad day when people would rather stay home and “Crank That Amber Cole”,
Than get up and run to a poll,
In our community,
Rockin’ Luis V is better than having a college degree,
And teen pregnancy is not only a trend,
But the single motherhood that follows should end,
Young girls learn of a wonderful prince to take them away,
Nothing should change thought their mothers prince didn’t stay,
And as the tears fade away,
She grows stronger every day,
In our community,
Fighting is no longer a word,
You argue with someone and shots are heard,
Girls showing places the sun don’t show,
So how do they expect the community to grow?
Where love is a figment of imagination,
Making a young child question her creation,
Young mothers would rather buy the iPhone 5,
Then satisfy her baby’s cries,
While her new man’s eye,
Wander up another girl’s thighs,
In our community,
Where #team dark skin vs #team light skin,
Makes others not love the skin they’re in,
Love, lust, hate, and trust,
Giving a rose on Valentine’s Day is no longer a must, 
Where bad is good and good is bad,
Who would think to see their grandmother sad?
Her hurt and pain,
Shows how our community has lost everything her parents fought to gain.