Best Inuit Poems
The lake freezes over as the snow falls deeper,
Tiny white stars that drift tenderly from up high.
The heavens steal sacred crystals from their keeper,
Like silver so delicately plucked from the sky.
The horizon disappears in the dark of night,
Sudden lights glow ahead in the white man's village.
Disrupting the serenity and quiet might
Of brother wolves and those of similar image.
The calls of my kin in the distance do stir me,
Eagles beckon and the wake of dogsleds begin.
The drums in the coldness and young children still plea,
In tune with the harmony of the wild wind.
Heart beating to the sound of the wind I stand still,
Beneath this ice is an ecosystem untouched.
The pulse through my feet flow to the beat of the hill,
And this earth in its axis seems trapped, almost clutched.
I turn from the village to meet the horizon,
So slowly it yields to mountains that can't be reached.
Walking the silent air to obtain the bison,
The tall limitless summits will never be breached.
Ice marries the crisp air as night covers the sun,
And so six months of quiet and stillness commence.
Wind blows through the vastness and takes man's shame with it.
Stand still and at peace with this Inuit silence.
In the Arctic, the skilled technique and art of building an inukshuk is passed down through generations of Inuit tradition.
a proud lineage
a compass
~ in the setting sun
Published in my photo/haibun anthologies ~PRIMITIVE~ 2019 and ~ANCESTRAL VOICES~ 2019
AP: Honorable Mention 2026, Honorable Mention 2023
Their igloos were short on insulation
Causing the Inuit consternation ~
Since the tops were all bare
They covered them with hair ~
Aha! Their 'Wigloos' were a sensation
opened his wallet
eskimo call girl chuckled ~
lacked innuendo
for the Simply Senryu Poetry Contest
sponsored by John Lawless
Written 10/8/22
When not out clubbing
hey-ho the merry oh
at night with the Inuit
I suspect by intuit
an intrepid Inuk named Nanook
a-hunting walrus he would go
with his trusty harpoon
traipsing 'cross the ice and snow
then when paddling afloat he went
in the harsh Arctic environment
to keep out the bitter cold and damp
in the very bottom of his boat
there was a fiery seal oil lamp
which eventually burned a hole
and without trace into oblivion he sank
with nothing to mark the place
in those deep dark blue depths so dank
even so who can ever forget
this tall tale chilling yet true
as his demise to the pithy proverb gave rise
'You can't have your kayak and heat it too'