royal maroon moon
topped with mountain marshmallow ~
cherries jubilee
(August Full Moon –Anishinaabe)
Lake Ontario
great lake
beautiful lake
in Huron Wyandot
Ontarí’io
names but thunder
they merely rumble
intentions that echo
lake of shining waters
beautiful water
in Iroquois Mohawk
Oniatari:io
names are how we honour
reflecting our own light
our little wave
our tide our turn
to appreciate this life
Chicago, Milwaukee, Minnesota
Indian names of American fame
Lake Winnebago, Mt. Moosilauke
Indian names, American Jabberwocky
LeBron, Te’Oscar and Shaquille
Black Men, America’s athletic ideal
Beyonce and Megan Three Stallion
Black women, enticing hellions
Yet in the White House we get Joe and Donald
Next time, maybe ‘Pete’
Those white names’ve got no rhythm
They’ve got no beat
The Paiute tribes, before they fell*,
were known to use, masterfully well,
copious pumice and obsidian,
found on the alpine meridian,
where the Long Valley Caldera blew to hell.
* "fell" might not be the right word. A little Internet research tells me that one of the Paiute tribes, the "Bishop Paiute Tribe" has a reservation near Bishop California, near the Mammoth Lakes area, where I collected pumice and obsidian as a child.
I was there standing talking to you
A boldness to a new world of confidence and will
Gently pulling the secret strings of my heart
Each minute she speaks
Its as if with an angel s voice
She guards her disguise
Notes fall down like snowflakes
Melting on my nose ,cheeks and brow
Ill sleep well tonight
Hoping to dream of your playful ways
It may be love
Or just a bridge over a feeling
To get to a special place
Like a beautiful spot to picnic in nature
It rediscovers me as a kid
When I was happy to be alone
In a World I made up to explore
By now,the interest of attraction has become an art
Spent my money on gambles of loneliness and moments that smile back
Notes fall down like snowflakes
Melting on my nose,cheeks and brow
Ill sleep well tonight ,hoping to dream of your playful ways
It may be love or a bridge over a feeling
To get to a special place
All I have is my thanks
Even just to be my friend
Born with hair of a lighter brown,
A gentle soul in his quiet town,
He walked alone where visions spoke,
Through heavy air and battle smoke.
No crown of gold or feathered crest,
No tales of war upon his chest,
Just one lone feather was in his hair,
And lightning painted bright and bare.
Not born to rule with a chief's command,
He won the hearts of his own homeland,
From Rosebud's heat to Bighorn’s sound,
He guarded all he walked around.
He shared his meat, he fed the poor,
And kept the winter from the door,
A shelter for the weak and small,
He gave his heart to save them all.
When worn by hunger, cold, and tear,
He brought his people home from fear,
Yet freedom could not be contained—
A soldier's blade, a sudden stain.
He fell not broken by the foe,
With quiet courage, letting go,
A wild, free spirit, brave and deep,
Who gave his people space to sleep.
Now laid to rest where whispers keep,
In secret ground he takes his sleep,
Near Porcupine Butte's lonely height,
Hidden safely within the prairie night.
sharp lightening strikes
dazzlingly dark dimensions ~
hot summer’s mashup
(July Full Moon – Western Abenaki)
Invasions I fear
How good am I with the sword?
I protect brown skin
summer’s first morsel ~
its rosy heavenliness
dripping pink honey
(June Full Moon – Algonquian, Ojibwe, Dakota, and Lakota)
oh, brother horizon, oh sister sky
a white-tail deer goes padding by
I feel protected by the Great Father today
away from the city, the bustle, the nonsense, the fray
oh, cousin beaver, and sister steer
you are sensed, so probably near
I turn and see a turtle making his way
down the slope of my front yard today
I am surrounded by totems who love me so
If it was night, I would see a raccoon, I know
the trickster fox turns and flips me his tail
I take a sip of my coffee and study my mail
I have had a fine rest, thanks to my sister dreamcatcher
She never lets me down, or my husband Bill Fletcher
We are blessed to be protected by spirits, orbs, and ancestors
Our ideas miraculously intact, no nightmares sequestered
Oh, brother horizon, oh sister sky
we feel so blessed, and thank you both on high
time for tending crops
nurturing new sprouts of spring ~
bountiful summer
(June Full Moon – Western Abenaki)
she hangs in an oak tree near my dreaming window
soundless, silent, showing Native American prowess
allowing inspiration and hope into my slumber
catching nightmares before they can reach me
Tears of the sky
cried by the heavens above,
the Great Spirit
announcing your birth with his love.
Tears of the sky
for your name’s sake,
stars weeping with joy
for the child we make.
Tears of the sky,
mountains will flood
for the child
of Mother Nature’s blood.
Tears of the sky
the sacred waters will yield,
the Great Spirit
will be your guide; your shield.
Tears of the sky
falling from the heavens above,
Mother Earth
soaking it with her love.
Tears of the sky
shall be your throng,
acclaimed by your name
you are Rainsong!
warmth of springtime sun
ponies shed winter clothing ~
giddy gadflies grin
(May Full Moon – Oglala)
superior orb
spritely spring mobility ~
geese neatly nesting
(April Full Moon – Dakota)
Native American Categories
Definition | What is Native American in Poetry?
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