Long Great mother Poems
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(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.
Born into the lap of loneliness
Adam paced restless up and down
God knew he badly needed a mate
And willed the solitary man, a companion
Nonpareil in beauty and grace,
God wanted her to be the marvel of marvels
With wonderful craftsmanship,
God began working on His new creation
Seeing God laboring overtime
The angels in Heaven came in hordes.
Overwhelmed by awe and wonder
Rallying round Him, they asked in chorus
“Lord, you seem to take extra care
In the making of your latest work,
Have you any special intent?
God smiled a gentle smile
And said in solemn air
“She should be of a special stuff
Strong enough to withstand all the shocks
But delicate enough to bend and bow
Sweet enough to draw everyone to her charm
But tough enough to bear extra burden
She should have a heart very deep
To hold gallons of liquid love
And a mind patient enough
To forbear all rebukes
She should have a temperament
Willing to forgive and forget
She should be warm enough
To kiss away all tears
With the magic to heal the bleeding hearts
She should bear the seeds of progeny
And shall be the great MOTHER to all
Sister, friend, mate and mother- all rolled into one
The Angels were moved to surprise,
Over the attributes ascribed to woman
They wanted to have a closer look
And just touch and feel that hour glass figure
Unlike Adam’s steely frame
They found her to be of a soft texture
With projections and depressions
Curves and slants here and there
“Oh, she is so fragile and soft”
The angels exclaimed in unison
Not hiding their disbelief
They openly gave vent to their doubt
“With such delicate torso
How can she perform all her tasks?”
God replied in assured tone;
“She is soft, I agree, from hilt to heel,
But equally tough………
None can guess what she can accomplish!
She can fight to the end for what she thinks is right
She has such great power of endurance
And the gift of intuition, but…. but,
As nothing of this world is perfect
This woman too has one serious flaw
She tends to forget her own worth”
Thus God’s supreme handiwork was born
A marvel of creation, a miracle worthy of adulation!
March.29.2022
(I had written this for Beta Augustin's Poetry Contest. Sadly I understand now that poems in Ode form alone are accepted)
Oh my little champion
I know I am not a great mother
But I am competing with myself to be the best and that you know well
Now I do have the issues of inexperience and normal human flaws
I am more over the same even after you were born
Well not to forget I am a normal human being and can't be a super mother within the second you born
Especially in this time when my physical, mental and emotional health is not within my hands
Now my routine has been changing day by day
No day is the same as before
I can't do my daily things which irritated me to the core once
But now I have no complaints as everything is for you my dear
My day starts and ends with you
I avoid everything just for making you happy
And my big world shrinks into too small
Which I am really proud of
I know it will become bigger than it was as you grow up
Let's learn together
I am here like a canvas for you to sprinkle the beautiful colors of life
You will have to see dark and light colors as it is the plight of all human
But I just want to make sure that I will not be the reason for your darkness
I want you to enjoy the sunshine and rainbows alike because both have it's own charisma
You should be matured enough to appreciate praises and criticisms equally as nothing will disturb you if you know yourself well
I wish you never scorn any one for the life they are going through or the way they present themselves
You have a settled life by God's grace and many won't
Be merciful to them as a second of arrogance can change the whole life
Don't forget to build your own opinion on things and accept all others have that right too and respect it whole heatedly
And most importantly be yourself and dream high
I promise you that even if I can't help you to reach your destination, I won't be the spoiler of your dream
I advise you not to leave your dreams inbetween as they are yours which believed you and came to you
Most important lesson you need to learn is never imagine success is in others words it is just in your heart
You and your thoughts are your only limits , so fly high without limitations
Be a child at heart forever, so innocent and so pure
My love is forever and ever with you my dear
The great mother to whom I cry
But when will your mind be to laugh
Or mouth in joy of peace it seeks
When will happiness to brethren smiles
To him your joy afar in miles
The treasure your children lost
Or the inheritance of mother flaws
Grand children in madness drawn
To steal, to fraud and to loot
To this your veins drain in cries
And in pains your mouth bleeds
Yet curse your mouth refutes
Because in changes your mind lurches
Of children in wilderness of vain chase
Hope in vanity of welt wealth
Great mother to you I cry
But mother, behold you too in cry
Sour the taste, milk of your breasts
To whom will us the solace get
Nigeria, mother, bleed they made you
II.
In trust the one I gave the vase
To lead, to mold, and spray the musk
That which brethren will make a symbol
Fragrance the world sought in haste
Aroma the one to mold in folds
Your kids, your world, your growth
But, amongst of you, leaders you hailed
In cry I am, my kids are cursed
Like Judas you are of trust to keep
But the one your elders waste and frayed
To throne your ascendancy in flaws
When justice you claimed but ruts
In market justice you sell to hawks
Like lion poking and sneering of preys
The rich, the little of the weak he takes
Blame not the kids whose hands do stink
Of whom, I ask, they tutored in gales
To steal, to fraud, to loot like cats
But of their elders, parents, even the guides
The reference of elders, now their pride
III.
But there, standing he holds
In pretext the Books of the sages
The one he claims to bear
In them contains their sayings
Of the old and I say, of the Host
The one in whom I am mould
Books of the Ancients and of age
Of ancients before your gods
That in it my mind in cry
That in lies he claimed to know
Behold, he swore to an oath
In himself, his oath, his spirit rejects
The taker and the one who is charged
The responsibility of oath he took
Accursed these children I begot
The one for which I’m in cry
That unto him I say, woe betides
Fury of me is here to reckon
Rage of the Books that you hold
The one of oath as your witness
Against of your mouth, it shall witness
I trace my existence back to
Iye mwen N’ogie (My great Mother).
You see when I was but a foetus
In a womb of the *****sapien whom I will
Later call my mother.
I lay brooding, developing and
Metamorphosing in structures just as the
Creator had designed it.
Though she knew me not
She loved me with every fibre of her beign,
She protected and nourished me,
I felt her love in many ways I can not now expound.
Her very heart beat made sweet rythmical
Music with mine,in syncronyms and
Symphonies that I would love to hear again.
And when I came into this world of
Tragedy,turmoil and poverty,
She raised me as a child with prodigy,
Even when my voice was naive to this
New world I was yet to know,
Her love for her child sprung out
The very first word from my soul,
MAMA, I had said sub consciously.
In return she cuddled me and called me
Her own TATA,everything I had
She got me, including my very first BATA,
L’are ovbimwen,ohanvben gbue ah?
( Come my dear child,are you hungry)
She would ask me.
Even when there was nothing left.
She had sold off all her belongings
Until I was all she had left,
She provided all my needs, so I won’t
Go into theft, even before papa left …
She is my love,my friend,my all,
My alarm clock, she slept late and woke up
Early to go ‘look for what I’d eat’.
Iye n’ ma gio ohanvben gb’ Omo.
(The mother who never let her child starve)
If they were times I made her cry,
Now I regret it.
But her love for her child is unending.
The type of love God shewed the Israeli people …
As time pass, we had a certain visitor,
One,who humans never welcome in their
Dwelling place.
He came and changed
Every thing like a deadly hurricane …
Iye had no strength left in her to fight him off…
So she gave up the struggle,it was her time.
As she closed her eyes in death.
I could hear her voice saying,
‘Ovbimwen e ghi vie m’ha miegbe’.
(My child do not cry,we shall meet again).
??
B Praize
X
Pa Shakespeare (GHOPS)
Happy Birthday Prayze ?? ??
I doff my many hats away,
To a lazy sunny Saturday,
Lounging, lazing and lying about,
Doing absolutely nothing but nowt,
Just loving and dreaming the day away.
My love and I have such a home,
Where on such days we never roam.
We sit together on our upper deck,
And all the chores can just go to heck.
And sometimes I may even write a poem.
Here we have such a beautiful life,
Made even more beautiful by my wife,
Who adds zest and quite a lot of spice,
And makes even the bad seem nice,
As we plan hand in hand and roll the dice.
Here in our Little House in the Pine Barrens,
A world you shouldn’t have a care in,
Where animals come to our backyard to play,
And some have come to our home to stay.
It’s a wonderful life we have come to share in.
With us we have Salem our sweet fat cat,
Woodstock cockatiel the ever-eating acrobat,
Barnanas snake quiet and reserved,
Andree cockatoo loud and absurd,
And we have zoo guests come to visit at that!
There’s Lucky bird quite opinionated,
Tater-tot skunk who eats till over-satiated,
And Rocky ferret with his bouncy little dance.
Who’s next? It’s up to chance! (Or my love’s fancy!)
I think the quiet country life is a bit over-rated!
Together we sit on our deck, my love and I,
On a warm sunny day or ‘neath a cool starry sky,
Talking of things that now are but dreams,
Of children we’ll have, one, two or three!?
Growing up in a home of love and hopes high.
My love is everything to me I could find in no other,
An amazing woman and wife and she’ll make a great mother.
She makes our house a home with her sweetness and love,
And brings down the blessings from God above,
And I am her husband; I’ll be father and love her.
Here even the ladybugs visit on a cold winter’s day,
They bring with them good luck that never flies away.
We have seen three seasons come and go with much pleasure,
Now we wait for fall to come and bring us its treasure,
And all we pray is for a child to bless the rest of our days.
Oh my.
Oh no.
Oh goodness no!
You.
How I dread (and long for) your familiar gaze –
how it haunts me!
I know it as well I know my own tail;
my own nose; my own hole!
You with your sleek, silver skin reflecting
all the sky’s blue off of itself,
and into my red eyes.
You with your razor-blade teeth –
(how I envy them!)
I loathe them for their whip
like bite.
But most of all
it is your eyes
that drive me to sweat
atop my bed of soft leaves
until my white fur is matted
and smelling
of the most intimate fear.
The fear of parting lovers.
Those empty black bowls, like pits
into hell!
Two ways to find me
before I can scream;
two ways to see me
within midnights dream;
two ways to mark me
outside of myself –
but O’,
how I love the high upon waking!
I am alive!
Alive to see another day!
Alive to praise the great mother once more!
You, old friend, make me live!
You’ve been with me
long before my mother’s taught womb –
you of the ocean, and I
of the land –
a dream, a myth, a certainty
perhaps that we were once
called brothers.
When life on land and ocean
were not mutually exclusive, and we
of the same either - or could breath
within either.
You are so much a part of me, that if
I were to leave you buried
beneath the graveyard mounds of my mind,
I feel I would parish! as surely as if
you grew limbs and found me,
as you once did,
on the land of my waking dream.
But now is now, and those days –
like your limbs and my gills,
are long gone.
So for now we shall meet in the dark
of my dreams;
where ocean and land come together
to dine –
you on my body, and I
on your soul.
*Written for Matt Caliri's Funniest-Hardest Poem Ever Contest. ;)
‘Wana Hin Gle’ the Lakota call me,
‘Wana Hin Gle’ my given name
‘He Who Happens Now,’ the drum beat has found me,
reaching into this moment beyond glory and fame
As ‘Wana Hin Gle,’ my spirit has wandered,
as ‘Wana Hin Gle,’ my ancestors call
The questions dissolve, as The Great Mystery beckons,
the campfire eternal, the chanting enthralls
“‘Wana Hin Gle,”’ my Mother calls proudly,
“Your horse is now waiting, your shield fixed with bone
“Off into the prairie you must ride in the twilight,
the People will dance until their son returns home
“’Wana Hin Gle,’ you must now happen quickly,
the buffalo ravaged, starvation cries loud
“Your eyes to look upon the great Wakan Tanka,
whose absence has shamed us, who once were so proud
“As the great Tasunka Witko who traveled before you,
you must call for your horse to come out of the lake
“Great Mother River and Great Mountain Father,
to your will they entrust what The People forsake
“Your spirit must suffer, the babies still cry,
the cold through the tent flaps, all future in blight
“The hawk comes to guide you, as you pass through the darkness,
the drums of your fathers beat into the night
“You will ride to the top of the ‘Pass Of The Bears,’
ask the Grizzly, our brother, where the demon still hides
“Where it lives, you must kill it, for this time and always,
before it steals our last dream, keeping spirits alive
“The White Horse will take you from the lake to the mountain,
and the stallion will sprout wings with its hooves fiery hot
“You will trample this demon and burn him before you,
the smoke will then signal of what he is not
“‘Wana Hin Gle,’” my son; the time is for going,
your journey awaits, past-futures on hold
“The Medicine Woman is locked deep inside you,
your People die waiting—the young and the old”
(Pine Ridge South Dakota: February, 2011)
From My Novel: “Searching For Crazy Horse”
‘Wana Hin Gle’ the Lakota call me,
‘Wana Hin Gle’ my given name
‘He Who Happens Now,’ the drumbeat has found me,
reaching into this moment beyond glory and fame
As ‘Wana Hin Gle,’ my spirit has wandered,
as ‘Wana Hin Gle,’ my ancestors call
The questions dissolve, as The Great Mystery beckons,
the campfire eternal, the chanting enthralls
“‘Wana Hin Gle,”’ my Mother calls proudly,
your horse is now waiting, your shield fixed with bone
“Off into the prairie you must ride in the twilight,
the People will dance until their son returns home
“’Wana Hin Gle,’ you must now happen quickly,
the buffalo ravaged, starvation cries loud
“Your eyes to look upon the great Wakan Tanka,
whose absence has shamed us, who once were so proud
“As the great Tasunka Witko who traveled before you,
you must call for your horse to come out of the lake
“Great Mother River and Great Mountain Father,
to your will they entrust what The People forsake
“Your spirit must suffer, the babies still cry,
the cold through the tent flaps, all future in blight
“The hawk comes to guide you, as you pass through the darkness,
the drums of your fathers beat into the night
“You will ride to the top of the ‘Pass Of The Bears,’
ask the Grizzly, our brother, where the demon still hides
“Where it lives, you must kill it, for this time and always,
before it steals our last dream, keeping spirits alive
“The White Horse will take you from the lake to the mountain,
and the stallion will sprout wings with its hooves fiery hot
“You will trample this demon and burn him before you,
the smoke will then signal of what he is not
“‘Wana Hin Gle,’” my son; the time is for going,
your journey awaits, past-futures on hold
“The Medicine Woman is locked deep inside you,
your People die waiting—the young and the old”
(Pine Ridge South Dakota: February, 2011)
From My Novel: “Searching For Crazy Horse”
‘Wana Hin Gle’ the Lakota call me,
‘Wana Hin Gle’ my given name
‘He Who Happens Now,’ the drum beat has found me,
reaching into this moment beyond glory and fame
As ‘Wana Hin Gle,’ my spirit has wandered,
as ‘Wana Hin Gle,’ my ancestors call
The questions dissolve, as The Great Mystery beckons,
the campfire eternal, the chanting enthralls
“‘Wana Hin Gle,”’ my Mother calls proudly,
“your horse is now ready, your shield fixed with bone
“Off into the prairie you must ride in the twilight,
the People will dance until their son returns home
“’Wana Hin Gle,’ you must now happen quickly,
the buffalo are all captive, starvation allowed
“Your eyes look upon the great Wakan Tanka,
whose absence has shamed us, who once were so proud
“As the great Tasunka Witko who traveled before you,
you must wait for your horse to come out of the lake
“Great Mother River and Great Mountain Father,
to your will they entrust what The People forsake
“Your vision must suffer, the babies still cry,
the cold through the tent flaps, all future in blight
“You must leave us now, but leave us in darkness,
for when you return, a new vision will burn bright
“You will ride to the top of the ‘Pass Of The Bears,’
ask the Grizzly, our brother, if the demon still preys
“If it does, you must kill it, for this time and always,
it has hovered above us keeping spirits away
“The White Horse will take you from the lake to the mountain,
and the stallion will sprout wings with its hooves fiery hot
“You will trample this demon and burn him before you,
the smoke will then signal of what he is not
“‘Wana Hin Gle,’” my son; the time is for going,
your vision awaits, past-futures on hold
“The Medicine Woman is locked deep inside you,
your People die waiting—the young and the old”
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2018)