Chippewa Poems | Examples


Premium MemberChippewa Chief John Smith

Chief John Smith was a learned chief
revered by some, respected by many
he had taken over the Chippewa as a young man
his peers were all gone now, for he was ninety-six
he figured he might have a year or two left
he lived to be one hundred and thirty-seven
surprising many including himself
Categories: chippewa, native american,
Form: Free verse

Premium MemberSky Beings

Sky Beings

Present since the day of creation,
They define the firmament
Populating the night sight sky 
In ever changing relationships
As Galileo’s sphere revolves on it axis 
Only to reappear for the same journey each night.

The focus of fascination and the focus of anthropomorphism
They populate Native American myths and legends
Recited around the dancing, leaping fires as they send their sparks skyward
In the otherwise ink black night.  

The above people, sky beings,
Were venerated in those stories which draw us 
Both inward and outward to the wonder suspended above.

One can only imagine and try to recreate the scene, the stories of
“How fisher went to the sky land” (Ojibwe)
“The quillwork girl and her seven brothers” (Cheyenne)
“They that case after the bear” (Fox)
“Women who married star husbands” (Chippewa)
“How Spirit dog made the milky way”.

These among the others,
Give breath and wonder and magic in the silent night darkness
To the sky beings above.
Categories: chippewa, night, sky,
Form: Free verse


A Long-Lost Friend

A Long-Lost Friend
Dedicated to Chippewa Lake Park

When did you die
When did everyone turn on you
There were so many children
Who laughed with you
And squealed as they sat with you
And you were dependable
There year after year
As we grew up we looked for you
But after so many years
You were forgotten
Disregarded
Left to die a slow death
To rot away into dust
I am one of those kids
One who you helped smile
I will never forget you
And neither will anyone else
History will make sure of that
Categories: chippewa, anger, death, death of
Form: Free verse

The Lakes

The Iroquois, the Ottawa, the Potawatomi, the Crow,
The Lakota, the Chippewa; all dwelt by their shores
And in their deep forests, but are there no more. 

Yet the Lakes remain; their waters abide.
Clear and quiet they lie on calm summer days,
But send ships to their bottoms when gales roar in their skies.

The abyss of Superior, so cold and so dark,
Holds tight to its secrets the Ojibway said,
And the waters of Superior never gives up its dead.

The waters of Michigan, not so cold nor so deep,
Yet, like Superior, its secrets they keep.

The waters of Huron I see in a dream
Flowing over the ghosts of primordial streams,
Past islands and trees, always south towards the sea.

Receiving their waters, Erie, with skies luminescent, 
Sends them on crashing over the Escarpment. 

Then on through Ontario and the Saint Lawrence,
Passing Quebec, passing great forests,
They reach their goal, the wide gray Atlantic.

Like great Superior, 
My secrets lie deep, my secrets lie cold.
They lie in an abyss and will never be told.

But there come to me times when I want just to go
To that vast Ocean wide;
To flow into the deep and there forever abide.
Categories: chippewa, nature, spiritual,
Form: Rhyme

May They Live On

Mohawk, Mandan, Kikapu, Cree,
Yakoma,Seminole, Crow,Shawnee.
Arapaho, Chippewa and Sioux,
Mystical names to me and you.
Names like Delaware, Fox and Paiute,
Listen to their music on the flute.
Lakota, Macuna, Omulgee, Nes Perce,
Yuma,Nakota,Ossage, Washoe, Hualapai
All names that should never ever go away.
Many now confined to history, sad to say,
Mans greed for land that was not theirs,
Caring nothing for the Indian affairs.
Starved and defeated they were moved away,
Now are conveniently forgotten up to this day.
For 400 years the remainder has cried,
Who is going to pay for this act of genocide.
Man will never right this wrong, or even admit,
To the atrocities that they did commit.
Sacred Lands abused all the way through history,
Hundreds of tribes  that roamed from sea to shining sea.
All long gone now lost to you and me
So many nations will be no more,
But their names live on and their spirits soar.
Remember their music and listen to their song,
Then their culture and memory will continue long.

Lest we forget. My offering of Remembrance 
for the Native American Indian peoples.

© Dave Timperley 20 September 2016
Categories: chippewa, america, discrimination, eulogy, holocaust,
Form: Rhyme


Premium MemberChippewa Falls

Got her name off a cracker box.
Sweet young thing.
You know she really rocks.

She climbs on top.
Keeps me warm at night.

You know that girl.
She's really out of sight..

In Chippewa Falls..

That's right! 

Chippewa Falls.

Wisconsin..

Found her name in the news tonight.
Front page story.
About a girl I knew.

Wound up drinking till the morning light.
Loads of fun.
With a girl named Sue..

In Chippewa Falls.
That's right! 
Chippewa Falls.
Wisconsin..

Sent her home on a train today.
Her smiling face.
Couldn't pay the way..

Bleach blond hair.
Shining bright today.

That's all she needed..
To pave the way...

In Chippewa Falls.
That's right! 
Chippewa Falls.
Wisconsin..
That's right! 
Chippewa Falls..

Song-Lyrics By Kim Robin Edwards
Copyright 2009,2014..All Rights Reserved..
Categories: chippewa, society, song,
Form: Ballad

Premium MemberFeathered Dream Catcher's

Within a catcher, dreams do scream
feathers redeem 
man's sullied soul
sweet dreams the goal

Within their vanes they transfix
each demon lick
each channeling's
imaginings

Within the web they flutter, curs
nightmare mutters
beaded offerings
each feather sings

Poet: Debbie Guzzi
Contest: Just a Minute!
Date 10/20/12

*It is believed that the origin of the Native American dream catcher (or Indian dream catchers) is from the Ojibwa Chippewa tribe.
Categories: chippewa, native american, dream, dream,
Form: Rhyme

Puff, Puff, Pass

“Yeha noha,
Yeha noha.”
The Indians chant, 
summoning the healing spirits
 from the marijuana cloud.
Puff, puff, and pass the chillum pipe.
Bodies carelessly twirl the ceremonial dance.
Those days are aged.

A stoned car tore through Chippewa school district,
 bodies flung, viciously, 
against hard turf,
and the spliff flew from the puff-puff-passing hands.
Blood stained the white car red,
 and dripped from the hood as thick as ignorant minds.

Can cannabis cure a family’s pain?
Puff, puff and pass the crack-cocaine.
Categories: chippewa, educationcar,
Form: Verse
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