Long Algonquin Poems
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OH! OH! ONTARIO!
Oh! Oh! Ontario, a place to be, a place to go.
Time to let the whole world know
Walk our streets and say hello!
Find out where the locals go.
Dales where our white trilliums grow.
Dream a dream and make it so.
Yours to discover, here we go!
Oh! Oh! Ontario!
Twice the size of Texas, 16 million strong.
Three days drive from side to side, each day eight hours long.
Marvel at our four Great Lakes, the Hudson inland sea.
Take the Polar Bear Express, all the way to Moosonee.
Water our great legacy, a quarter million lakes.
Visit Falls Niagara, Maid of the Mist to take.
Sail the Thousand Islands, river running toward the sea.
Climb CN Tower’s steps, go to the CNE.
Oh! Oh! Ontario, a place to be, a place to go.
Time to let the whole world know.
Walk our streets and say hello!
Find out where the locals go.
Dales where our white trilliums grow.
Dream a dream and make it so.
Yours to discover, here we go!
Oh! Oh! Ontario!
Drive the length of Yonge Street, longest street on Earth.
Tour HMCS Heida, Hamilton her berth.
Skate on rink Rideau Canal, hear Peace Tower’s toll.
Birdwatch at Point Pelee, watch the breakers roll.
Climb the Heights at Queenston, walk around old Kingston town.
Go to Casa Loma, castle of renown.
Visit old Bobcaygeon, made famous by The Hip.
Attend a play at Stratford, take Agawa Canyon trip.
Oh! Oh! Ontario, a place to be, a place to go.
Time to let the whole world know
Walk our streets and say hello!
Find out where the locals go.
Dales where our white trilliums grow,
Dream a dream and make it so!
Yours to discover, here we go!
Oh! Oh! Ontario!
Hike up the Escarpment, stop and rest awhile.
Take the ferry Tobermory, to Manitoulin Isle.
Ski at Calabogie, camp at Algonquin Park.
Hear the loons at twilight, watch the rising sparks.
Oh! Oh! Ontario, a place to be, a place to go.
Dream a dream and make it so!
Time to let the whole world know.
Oh! Oh! Ontario!
Oh! Oh! Ontario!
At last the shivering stops
as the sleeping bag, air mattress
and tent warm from body heat.
Later I stumble from the dark tent
into a full moon, coldly glowing
over a forest of silhouette trees and
a deafening silence broken only
by the call of a distant Barred Owl.
The silver stream of piss steams as
it splatters on the ground; a quick shake,
then bag to a warm bag to sleep till dawn
which brings blue sky and a south wind
to fan a reluctant campfire and heat
a soon to boil kettle of coffee water.
A pair of loons surface, close enough
to see the bars of their necklaces, before
they disappear under the dark water.
As the sun crests the eastern hill, I move to
the shore to greet it, basking in its warmth
slowly spinning like a Crookes’ sun mill.
When I am a healthy Norwich person
I hope to feel warm and joyful gratitude
for compassionate nonviolent communicators
past and present
With cooperatively nonpartisan
bipartisan
dipolar co-arising transportive projects
programs
processes
Voiced choices
to restore local
and bioregionally cooperative EarthHealth
PrePartisan
PreHistoric
multicultural heart-felt Care
for EarthJust restoring
wealthy GreenPeace,
outside ego-extending family
wealth cultures
inside eco-resiliently resonant
health climates
ReMinding
ReWinding
ReMembering
ReConnecting
ReLigioning
indigenous EarthTribe wisdom
ReGenerating EarthCare
multiculturally mediating
inter-connected Wisdom,
metaphysically
polyphonically inter-re-ligious
As OldSchool animated spirit-natured
ecofeminist Algonquin native communions
appreciating EarthMother's Mashantucket
bucket of resilient Pequot empowering
politically cooperative economies
for universally unitarian health care
giving and receiving
ReSonating songs and therapeutic dances
enlightening heart-felt eco/theo-logical
healthy EarthCare
and wealthy EarthTribe economic safety
conserving our sacred/secular co-invested
Resilient Highest and Deepest TransHistoric Sorority
of EarthSky civilizing sibilance.
I woke up to a gentle tapping on our window pane….
I thought it was a bird…turns out it was the rain.
Deborah ,unaffected by the soft tap, tap, tapping on our window pane
and still in the midst of a dream…was not awakened by the rain.
So I tiptoed out to the living room window
where I could watch the rain with ease…
and listen as some raindrops bounded off the trees.
When Deborah finally woke she joined me
and as we watched raindrops dive into the lake
we decided watching and listening to the rain…
is a wonderful way to to wake.
And a wonderful way to begin the day…as we headed to the capital of Canada
In the 5 hour drive…so many trees, hills lakes and rivers we saw….
On our way to the city the Algonquin called “adawe” which means to trade…
burt we know as Ottawa.
We drove through the crowded freeways of Ottawa…which gave us both a fright!
finally turning down the Rue d’Onans in Cantley, Quebec
where we found our cabin for the next 2 nights
We were able to bring all our luggage into this beautiful cabin in this quiet little town
minutes before the thunder clapped, the lightning flashed…
and the rain came pouring down.
Which meant we were in safe and sound for the evening…
where we listened to the raindrops tapping on our window pane…
where we sat in front of big windows overlooking the forest
and together watched the the rain.
And as the rain continued through the evening
thinking back to the way our day began in Ontario….
we thought how the rain is just as beautiful everywhere we go.
And we felt blessed to have the rain….
which this day stirred in us feelings intense and deep…
how it nudged us awake this morning
and this evening sang us both to sleep.
They once lived here on Hudson River banks-
Lenape Indians of long ago.
Beneath our home may lie the underworld
of spirits that we know to come and go.
Our kids and friends held campfires down the hill,
and from the woods heard chants clear as can be.
An arrowhead was found and brought inside,
and from that day the spirits seemed most free.
For years we've seen the shadows down our hall
and darting figures rushing by each door;
a fan that starts to whirl with no switch turned;
lamp lights that dim at will on every floor.
Much time has passed since we had built our home-
the coffee maker still turns on at will.
The touch lamps glow and fade all by themselves;
computer icons move, do not stay still.
So many mornings, our computer screens
are fixed on 'guest' and not our email names,
just like some ghosts signed on and off all night-
these spirits are intent on playing games.
No harm has come to us, just puzzling times,
in never knowing why this came to be.
Perhaps a tribe once lived here long ago;
their roaming spirits, still alive and free.
September 12, 2016
~7th Place~
Contest Name: Give Me Goosebumps
Sponsor: Nina Parmenter
Judged: 12/21/2018
True story- based on the myths about these Indian spirits still roaming.
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"Newburgh, NY, is located on the west shore of the Hudson River on the lands of the Waoranek peoples described by the Europeans who first encountered them as a close-knit, loving, and peaceable group. The Waoranek was part of the Lenape tribe of the Algonquin nation. Around them, in the bay, were other related bands also part of the greater Lenape-Algonquin peoples."
american indians know the good deeds and intentions of the thunder birds.
Ojibwe say they were created by Nanobozho to punish immoral humans.
thunder birds have supernatural powers and strength, working toward good.
they have the power to give life, and the power to take life.
thunder bird legends are well known in art, stories, and jewelry.
algonquin say the thunder bird creates thunder by flapping his wings.
iroquois understand she creates lightning by flashing her eyes.
menominee say the thunder bird controls rain and hail.
all tribes agree the thunder bird works toward deeds of greatness.
they control the upper world, keeping snakes in line.
whereas the underworld is governed by the underwater panther.
or the great horned spirit; wonderful legend.
Ottawa is derived from the Algonquin word adware,
meaning "to trade" when the indigeous people;
used the rivers in the area to fish, hunt and camp,
they portaged rivers known now as the Ottawa and Rideau;
but called these waterways "the great river and the grand river".
The city of Ottawa, originally called Bytown because it was,
founded by Colonel John By an engineer who designed;
the Rideau Canal(the best preserved example of a slack water canal),
which was created to move goods, and lumber for trade;
in 1826 Bytown was renamed Ottawa and became the capital of Canada.
Canada is often called the Great White North because we are so cold,
and yes, we are with temperatures minus 20 or more in winter;
but Ottawa is clean and beautiful and a safe place to live and full of history,
I am proud to be part Ojibwe, the original people, a people of storytellers;
and anyone who knows me can vouch that I am a storyteller.
The indigenous people have many stories of how it all came to be !
___________________________
February 25, 2020
Written for Your Favorite Legend
sponsor,, Chantelle Anne Cooke
(An Abenaki Legend)
Prologue...
After the reptile people had been devoured by fire, ice and flood, Kloskurbeh the ever creating Spirit, sighed, and thought about the worlds he had made across the multiverse, how his breathe had brought life to so many beings. Layers and layers of reality seeded into existence, but many had failed to hear his voice and in the end they had withered.
Legend...
One day in the Dawn Land
a boy came walking.
Many times the boy passed through me
without seeing
eventually I placed a question into his heart.
The boy explained to himself
that he had been born
when the foam and spume
of the sea were heated by the sun.
The next dawn, a girl appeared -
she explained
that she had come from the earth,
a green plant had bore her as fruit.
Time passed, the Dawn children
found each other and rushed to
be together, many morning babes where born,
and by the works of their hands and minds
they thrived.
Then hard times came (as they always must).
Famine came, meat was hard to find.
The mother could no longer feed her children
and she despaired.
I saw all this,
I prayed to Sophia the Great Womb Mother -
for yes even I am created from woman
and all souls are thus female.
I knew also that Nature once seeded, must not be
altered by any good intentions.
The woman ran to the river
wanting to drown her sorrows, the waters rose,
almost submerged she cried out
to whom she knew not what.
Then as her tears flowed, between her legs
green shoots came forth, she felt them, then wadded
back to the river bank to see.
Looking upon this miracle the woman had a vision.
She returned to her mate, and demanded that he
kill her and plant her bones in two piles.
Horrified he objected, but she explained her vision to him.
She insisted, so it was done.
For forty moons her partner stood over her bones
and sorrowed much.
Then one morning the piles sprouted plants.
one was maize the other root tubers.
The Great Mother had seeded Her ‘Will be Done’
upon the soul of the earth.
To this day children are fed by the Earth Mother
and the dark womb of Sophia
where all light and nourishment emanates.
The Algonquin people (after a good catch),
still bury a fish in the fields to honor, I Kloskurbeh
and my Great Mother.
I am White Cloud, chief of an Algonquin tribe in Maine
This is a dedication to my pup “Keeitai” memories I retain
I forward myself, I shall speak of the meeting of Keeitai
As a young brave, striving manhood, I was sent to the forest alone
With bow in hand I could be a man with-in my fathers’ eye
Mother Grizzly protecting her young, kills mama wounds dad
A timber wolf cries to the sky, howling my wife has died
I follow as he leads me to his den; the beginning of the end
The fresh earth smells of death,4 baby pups given to the Spirit
The whimper in the blackness of death a pup had survived Keeitai
Never before had I heard such sorrowful baying, as his father died.
To be Continued
Dedicated to Au Poivre my Shepherd, my Puppy for 17 years
I entered a village in Algonquin park
as dusk approached the tattered edges of dark.
And fell in love with the bucolic setting
all except for the mosquito’s blood letting.
The pine smell was redolent riding each breeze
carrying halcyon memories of trees.
And for a fugacious moment I felt lost
amidst the penumbra where I weighed the cost.
I could find a safe inglenook or camp out
a vestigial whiff of pie gave me doubt.
And taking that as a harbinger of treats
to come I headed to a lodge with grass streets.
My ephemeral connection with the Earth
somehow gave my sempiternal soul rebirth.
For I felt rejuvenated young at heart
and with each footstep felt my tensions depart.