Long Inuit Poems
Long Inuit Poems. Below are the most popular long Inuit by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Inuit poems by poem length and keyword.
I see you standing there shivering and forcing a smile. I see you standing there looking at me for a while. I wasn’t sure that it was you so I kept staring to figure out who, but my eyes grows dim, and the grainy image on the screen that I could hardly see display a naked log leaning close to the wall with no branches except for some tiny sprouts on its head looking out at the dead.
It has been in the sun for a while so it’s white bark become brown and the tanned log crammed in a secluded space waited for an eternal cover. I wonder when this mystery will be over.
The rodents and the squirrel gather around and look at the log and frown and disappeared into their hole. Everything was quiet for a moment but the mongoose peeped out from the bush, looked furiously around created a frantic scene on the ground. It attacked a snake and wrapped it around its neck and both struggle to their venomous death.
I have often wondered what it would be like to be a diamond and walk on ice, living with the arctic and subarctic people from Serbia to Alaska all the way to Canada. I have often wondered what it would be like to live with the Inuit and Yupik, majority hunting food in the valley and plant grains when the weather is warm.
I would go hunting in the sun and water the roots with rum, and cover the naked log with animal skin to keep them warm and purge them from their sins .When the South Pole and the North Pole meet, the magnetic field will tremble under your feet and fire will burn in your gut and the ice will fall apart.
I wonder what it would be like to live in Greenland between the arctic and the Atlantic Ocean; we would comb through the icy waters every day stepping on ice sheet, feeding on eels and rice and eating Danish food as a monthly sacrifice.
Let’s go to the south to see what this mystery is all about, put on your best suite and dress in a good pair of shoes. Take a good look at the hydropower in the city and observe how the kinetic energy and the potential energy in the south are strong, they are walking together hand in hand and new business are rising up from the earth. But the North Pole is holding on and the cold temperature keeps trotting along. When will it be over?
38.4154017°, -76.5341214°
A waterwheel, raceway, grinding stones (bedstone and runner stone), gears, shafts, and a hopper for grain, Diet. The crested honey buzzard is a specialist feeder, living mainly on the larvae of social bees and wasps, and eating bits of comb and honey(qilaat)Inuit The People at Funks Pond.Analog-to-digital conversion.absolute event.a combination of shutter speed aperture
that determines the amount of light reaching the camera's sensor. manufactured by Kurtis Kraft in 1949 and 1950.Punganur Made cars and had a Milling Mill on the Creek. in the 1930's they built Sports cars and sold hovercrafts in the 1933 the sold shares of there company to the public. They became famous when the wife woman began infusing honey with vanilla beans:infused honey is made by adding whole Vanilla Beans to our raw and unfiltered honey. It's a perfect balance of sweet and vanilla taste.They shut down the company
and moved all the equipment to an undisclosed place Selling the Motor Company to Frank Muntez
Expenditures/costs negotiated/spent before filming begins, including source material rights (for adaptations) and salaries for director, producer screenwriter, and actors.
Whammy Bar ( Little Black Egg.....)
Funks Pond(revamp)
(RUMOR HAS IT) Ernest T. Bass was involved in an interracial relationship with black model Donyale Luna_ they had a child in 1967 he never recognized the child. In 2001 his unrecognized granddaughter began tossing stones at a Mall in Mississauga Canada. It was said she was sing "The Creeks to Dry" skip along in bootie shorts, a white tee shirt and a sleeveless blue jean vest. It was said that she had large beetle bugs in her purse. Crazy! Crazy! Crazy!)
Written By: Pro.Tuum Proximus Maritus
and Doctor Uxor Eius Est
of Wobble Board Fame Inc.
Red Cow Music and Lyric Company
British White Recording Academy
Belgium Blue Sound Prep Inc.
all Produced and Ex-Produced
By Black Angus "Jumpan-Pumpin"
with permission by Star Anise Leather Co. LLC
Copyright Pending
Patent approved
"Cheezey-greazy sour Dill
with Yeasty rolls: Man thats
deliisous!"
Written By:
Huba Datl Chol
Circa 1969
Revised the other day(2023)
The Inuit call the Narwhal the one that points to the sky,
Because of their unique way of aiming their tusk upward;
The scientific name Narwhal means one tooth and one horn,
Narwhals are the subject of mythical tales, legend and lore.
Mottled white gray and black is their skin , so corpse-like,
Most spend the winter in Baffin Bay, northern Canada;
In heavy packs of ice, a world of giant crashing ice burgs,
A treeless white tundra that goes on forever and ever.
The Narwhal can dive down miles in the water to feed,
Sadly some die of suffocation due to the surface freezing;
They do need to take breaths through cracks in the ice,
One must wonder, why they choose this frozen location.
Narwhals summer in Hudson Bay, Greenland and Russia,
Moving through narrow channels during the spring melt;
They are threatened by overhunting by the Inuit for food and ivory,
Also from mining and drilling and from global warming.
Such amazing creatures, a fantastic animal of fifteen feet,
With this incredible long spiraled tusk, unicorn-like;
An eight foot flexible horn that bends to the left, mysteriously,
Actually a tooth that continues to grow all of their life.
All males have these tusks along with another smaller tooth,
Emerging from their upper jaw, with no apparent use;
Not anything to do with a weapon or for fishing or for eating fish,
It seems to be a beautiful male adornment for finding love.
Often they are seen rubbing tusks, this is called tusking,
It is thought to be not only part of mating but hierarchy;
Narwhals communicate by clicking, whistling and knocking,
A haunting sound the pierces the frozen silent ice world.
In past years, many were captured for scientific study,
However, they all died in captivity, it seems they need ice;
Some wild creatures are just not meant to be kept captive,
Many of God's animals are just suppose to be free in nature.
________________________
September 19, 2015
Verse
Written by Broken Wings
For the contest, Impress Me With A Narwhal Poem, sponsor, Skat
Ninth Place
I remember like it was yesterday
but it was years ago and another lifetime ago
that I fell in love with a man
it was a love that could never grow
could never be
I was working for the Government of Canada
for Health and Welfare
and was sent way up north as part of a group
to see the conditions in isolated villages and towns
we were given wilderness guides
because it was not like you could just take a car
to get there
one was called Claude he spoke the language
of the Inuit and was our translator
this was his life and he seemed to love the snow wilderness
I spoke a lot with him
and overtime we became friends and of course
I was falling in love and he loved me too
we set sail on an ocean of snow white love
one night he invited me to his cabin in the woods
I lost myself in a place of a thousand trees
and in front of a blazing fire we found paradise
my hair a flowing dark river streaming
his voice music for my soul
we knew that our love was doomed
there was no promise between us
for I would be leaving for the civilization soon
back to the city life that I loved
I could never see myself in this isolated place
and I knew he did not belong in a city
so we enjoyed our nights as star-crossed lovers
dreading the end but knowing it was soon
and the drums of time rolled
we both decided that our love would end when I left
there would be no long distance romance
no letters and no communication ever
we would become shadows on the wall of time
I would never see him again
when that day came it was so hard
I left by a small aircraft it was not like there was an airport
looking out the window
my eyes swelled with tears
he waved goodbye to me and turned away
as clouds sailed across the snowy sky
and that is the last time I saw him
love is a guest that comes unbidden at times
yet, I find a sweetness amid the dregs of the past
where memories of him shake the ocean of my sleep
and I know that I will never forget him, never
for I keep him in a secret place within my heart
he will always be that young northern wilderness guide
with the beautiful voice and smile
even when I am withered old
Mild dystopian cracks open
cobwebbed laden figurative door
to my super charged
subconscious shrouded self -
portal carelessly left ajar
steeped in dark shadows,
wherein spooky monsters creep
along edge of night,
outer limits of twilight zone
serve as makeshift restraining: bar
21st century alchemist busily massages
a fictional holographic projection
to contemplate car
re: ying the terrestrial firmament
into spasms of expiration, which whim far
fetched since the following conjecture
contrived within overactive imagination
of yours truly - such peculiar notions par
for the course sans striving
to become adroit
teasing out ethereal material
analogous to embrace
plasma up holding star
reed cosmic funereal invocation
loosing prognostication silencing war.
So without further ado
I offer to continue
embellishing literary above
iterated missive anew
for ye to ponder and brew
from a mister wordsmith
comprising wife as counterpart
complimenting beastie boy
aptly named duo motley crue,
whereat dwells within complex edifice
housing he who begat
offspring numbered uno and deux,
whereby this husbandly spouse i.e me
resembles a cross eyed
cryptogram solver
geeky long haired pencil necked geek
artificially inseminated yik yak
with fertilized egg of emu
unbeknownst to many edified readers
might consider myself brain cells few
explainable from being
chomped on by a carnivorous oldish gnu,
nevertheless unaffecting ability
to sire female progeny
re: guarding biological process
concerning human reproduction
viz ova linkedin with seminal glue
swimming swiftly via viscous hue
biological processes extant
from equator far north
to Inuit housed in igloo
nonetheless, genetic heritage
comprised predominantly of Jew
genealogy heritage indeed
Ask Jeeves, cuz he knew
with one very late Uncle Lou
who suffered mad cow disease,
and considered hims
a milch cow and frequently did moo
calf full when bovine brand new
which found me to rue
what comprises reality to be true
that all humans originated
from the primate zoo.
Long ago, in the fastness of the north
lived a people known as the Inuit.
They lived in perpetual darkness.
Although they had heard of light from Crow
they at first would not believe him.
They made him repeat this fairy tale
many times, for it sparked imagination.
Imagine how long they could hunt.
Imagine seeing polar bear before he saw them.
They begged Crow to find and bring the light.
“But I am too old and daylight is far to the south”.
After much begging the old crow relented.
He flew through many dark miles of the north
and just as he was about to change his mind
he saw light - - - just a speck on the horizon.
Suddenly light burst upon him as the daylight
world exploded around him in brilliance.
He had to stop and rest and comprehend
this wonder of wonders called light.
He noticed the blue sky, the blue stream
and the young girl walking back to a village.
She carried a pail of the blue water as she passed
beneath the tree in which he rested.
Turning into a small speck of dust,
she did not notice Crow as he drifted into her parka.
As they neared the village, Crow saw a young boy
playing with a ball of daylight, bouncing on a string.
Crow flew from her coat, and grabbed the ball.
He flew into the endless blue sky,
the ball of daylight trailing along behind him.
Waiting impatiently, the Inuit saw a tiny speck of light
moving towards them in the darkness.
Soon it grew brighter and brighter
and Crow dropped it in the center of their village.
It exploded into a burst of light, revealing everything.
It illuminated every dark corner and chased away shadow.
But as the Inuit danced and celebrated
Crow told them the light would not last forever.
The ball of light would have to rest for six months
each year in order to gain its strength back.
“Half a year of daylight is enough” the Inuit said
and to this day they build their lives around
six months of day and six months of night.
An Inuit myth retold by S.E. Schlosser,
made into this poem July 15 2012
By: Charles Henderson ©
The Wakening World
A new world spins kaleidoscopic, a whorl of color in revolt.
Oceans quake, molding into fissures of tectonic hunger,
ravaging the deep, stirring the primal need depressing
populations unseen to the denizens of land, left in man’s wake.
From diatom, to whale, from single cell, to open hand
from sun, to star, to mushroom bomb, we have light.
Within the orb of eye, retinal flares of light
an inside-out, upside-down, yin and yang revolution;
juxtaposing wealth with poverty, throngs rise asking for hand-
outs, aching with a human need to know, hungering.
Childhood ends as the predestined ouroboros wakes.
Death’s rattle subsides, as head eats the tail of depression.
Communication becomes the global antidepressant.
Aborigines in Australian huts and Inuit in igloos see the light.
There will be no holding back the tide, for hand in hand, cells wake.
No longer can knowledge be held. “Phone home,” a revolutionary
cry, the breast will not be ripped from the lips of hungering
humanity, tyrant and saint will be juxtaposed, their time at hand.
Instant contact scrapes the barnacles of blight handily.
The stroke of fingertip to keyboard or keypad depressed
sends ignorance fleeing, freeing the knowledge hungry;
showing the way out, the way up, the key. Light-heartedly
heads bow in prayer, the we will rock you will revolt.
Let tyranny be eaten, and righteousness wake.
On the egg of earth, we float in celestial wakes.
Solar tides stir the shards of glass raising death’s hand.
Round and round the top spins each revolution
forced by the pumping thump of nuclear rods depressed,
rods magnetized or charged with lightening
will energize the populous for we all hunger.
Evolution brings revolution, each thirst quenched brings new hunger.
Repression will never depress the desire to wake,
nor, will the fisted hand ever bring the light.
The world spins kaleidoscopic, a whorl of color in revolt.
Oceans quake malleable, molding into fissures of tectonic hunger,
ravaging the deep, stirring the primal need depressing
populations’ unseen to the denizens of land, disregarded in man’s wake.
From the diatom, to the whale, from the single cell to the open hand
from the sun, to the stars, to the mushroom bomb, we’ve light.
Within the orb of eye, retinal flares of light,
an inside-out, upside-down, yin and yang revolution
juxtaposing wealth with poverty, as throngs rise asking for hand
outs, aching with a human need to know, hungering.
Childhood has ended, the tell-tale snake does wake.
Death’s rattle will subside, as the head eats the tail of depression.
Communication will become the global antidepressant.
Natives in aboriginal huts and Inuit in igloos will see the light.
There will be no holding back the tide for hand in hand, each cell wakes.
No longer can knowledge be withheld. “Phone home,” a revolutionary
cry, the tit will not be ripped from the lips of hungering
humanity, the tyrant and the saint juxtaposed, their time at hand.
Instant communication, shall scrape the barnacles of blight handily.
The stroke of finger tip to key shall depress
and ignorance will flee, freeing the hungry
for the way out ,the way up, the key, light-heartedly
heads bowed in prayer, we shall revolt.
Let tyranny be eaten, and righteousness wake.
On the egg of earth, we float in celestial wakes.
Solar tides stir the shards of glass raising death’s hand.
Round and round the top spins each revolution
forced by the pumping thump of rods depressed
rods magnetized and charged with lightening
for we all hunger.
Each evolution a revolution, each thirst quenched brings new hunger.
Repression will never depress the desire to wake,
nor, will the fisted hand ever bring the light.
Inuksuk Hunter
Seen, and unseen, white in, stars out
Snow slices air.
Seal Mukluks shuffling, toes in seal hair
Electrons knife into ice, tangentially chill
From aurora’s greenish lights dancing a whistle’s will.
The Inuit
hunter
Clothed inside out, and outside in by caribou hollow hair
Feels belly sweat trickle, get sucked in by air
From steady dog team gait
Across the tectonic tundra plate
Of Mother’s molten gut.
Shafting silver frost, stalagmites up
To startles
In sparkles.
His eyes stare through slits of bone
Crossing frigid fault lines of stone.
He listens to language of snow and of gale
Senses ancestral tongue speaking from drifting trail.
The snow squeaks of density, depth and of place.
Homeward bound in swirling might
As frozen asteroids in cosmic flight
Crater his pupils in lunar impact
Nothing but blue pained light
Seen before the end of sight
In a day of night.
No rhyme nor reason why
with yours truly ejaculating
(not prematurely), I utter yippee,
nope no intercourse induced whoopie
upon this... - day three
January two thousand and twenty one
perhaps consummation,
regarding aforesaid euphoric mood
indicative I will become philanthropy
recipient i.e. anonymous lucky payee
before anniversary of this monkey
exhibiting fits and starts
orbitz nearest star
while linkedin to planet Earth
as (mush ado about nothing)
spasmodically thrashing
as garden variety generic
*****sapien protoplasmic beef jerky.
Courtesy guilty conscience,
I verily, timidly, readily... admit
no criminal mind nor hanky panky
whereby unfettered naughty bit
no way no how frolicked courtesy dalliance
though trespassing, plucking,
and nibbling verboten fruit
this average Joe didst commit,
which extramarital trysts
cost hefty penalty fee (think debit)
to checking account exhibit
head by mine absence one night
years ago, when we lived
at 724 West Railroad Avenue
thee missus exploded livid fit
of rage found me stony faced with true grit
feeling proudly unrepentant
what an ingrate hypocrite
pledging troth after rubbing noses
analogous as flirtatious custom to Inuit.
Thus smugness and/or feeling upbeat
seems heretical (in retrospect)
cuz promised covenant chaste away,
when sowing wild oats/gathering rosebuds...
like a mad ing dog in heat
one errant husband
upon wife did swing and cheat,
which wedded connubial bliss
more pronounced now after commiting
egregious sexual feat.
Figurative emasculation discovered
visa vis promiscuous escapades
redemption (no matter an atheist) proffered
hence an ideal place to enclose final word.