Native American Poems

DAILY GRATITUDE NATIVE AMERICAN PRAYER FOR THE GREIVING

Everyone grieves in their own way
that’s a fact not a belief…
Which means there is not date of completion
no timeline for our grief…

To all the thought and prayers 
those who’ve suffered a loss might be receiving…
Today I’m grateful to add
this Native American Prayer of grieving:

I give you this one thought to keep
I am with you still…I

yellow leaf moon

brightest bulb in sky
colors trees with chill and hue ~
	sparks of cold winter

(September Full Moon – Assiniboine)

ONE CIRCLE OF LIFE

Today I revisit a blessing…we need to hear it more
perhaps that’s why I’ve used it so many times before

It’s from the Native Nations peoples
who had their share of tragedy, heartache and strife…
and how they understood about one particular circle of life…

I imagine long ago they found the beat…
and discovered it by chance:

Dancing is a way

Party Animal

Party Animal

I see you 
Walking through that door
Standing on two feet
When you should be on four

I see you
Right through your disguise
Every word from your mouth
Nothing more than lies

I see you
Grinning from ear to ear
Won’t be long now
Until fangs and claws appear

I see you 
Such a big talker
But you dont fool me
I know you skin walker

She Carries TUKAHOK In Her Chest

she is matawàhkwí
of the pullaook — turkey clan
she is lenni lenape

born where marsh meets
sky’s reflection
where grass (aski) bends
to east wind (achpateuny)
and water (mbi) feeds
all it touches

the year's spirit
in spiral moons
not lines on paper

each moon
opens its hand
offers its gift
praised with ceremony and song

—

PLANTING MOON
(ehakeehaawee keeshoox)

ice loosens
its grip on the river

we harvest shad (shëwanamèkw)
and sturgeon (weesaho'seed)
silver bodies
heavy

NO ONE

Once again I defer today’s blessing to the Native Nations
I hope someday their wisdom will help us understand…
how we are not the total masters…
but only one part of the land

No one owns the water
No one owns the land
No one owns the ocean
No one owns the sand

These are give by our Mother

The Planet provides for free

Only

Bad Hair Day

Hair looked wild, got to hide my tattoo,
Because today I have a job interview.
I wear a long sleeve shirt, scarf, and hat,
To hide my dragon-skull and vampire bat.

Went into Blackrock, the secretary smiled,
I wanted to spend time with her a while,
Then she saw the beer stains on my shirt,
Decided she didn't want to flirt.

Talked to

BLOODLINE ECHOES

I walk with a weight that I never quite chose,
But somehow it fits, like the thorn on a rose.
The pain and the beauty, they bloom just the same—
Two sides of a story that whisper my name.

Born of a mother whose roots ran so deep,
But stolen at birth in a silence that still weeps.
They called it

mountain shadows moon

mauve mountain shadows
creep across verdant valley ~
	purple moon rises

(August Full Moon – Tlingit people of the Pacific Northwest)

Plains of Nod

Amidst thy grassy sea,
Stands a lone cottonwood tree.

A man of red–
His many feathers
Scatter like dust–
Away in the wind.

Amidst thy cottonwood tree,
Lies a man who once was free.

A man of blue–
My musket, aflush
A sacred scarlet–
Stricken with iron.

‘Thy brother’s blood crieth unto me.’

My blank canvas,
Suspends in time–
For I – I
Hath begotten flames–
Unto this rich plain 
Of gold.



My

hot moon

chocolate-cracked earth
sizzling Stygian summer ~
		lizard on a stick
	
(July Full Moon – Native American)

A Name By Any Other Arose

Native Americans call me 'Paleface'
'Roundeye' say the Chinese race
to a Scot I'm a 'Sassenach' 'Boyo' to those in Wales
altho' a 'Limey' in New York
I answer to none such hails
once a 'Gweilo' in Hong Kong Down Under was a 'Pom'
you may give a dog a bad name (and/or a bone)
he may even be your (best) 'Pal'

Geronimo - 1829-1909

1905
Geronimo went to Washington
to meet the Great White Father
(where he hoped to bury the hatchet)
and save his Indian Nation...
checking into his hotel, the desk clerk asked,
"Do you have a reservation?"
The perfect poker face when playing cards
(his guards were nearly always broke)
said to be blood-thirsty, his winnings used he
to pay for educating children of the Apache.
He

WHICH WOLF WILL YOU BE FEEDING

It is impossible when I’m, looking out over the mountains in N. C.
not to feel the influence, the presence…the spirit of the Cherokee.

When I think how in this country and the world…
there is a battle between people who are inhumane to one another…
and those who are compassionate and kind..
up here in the mountains of North

Save Our Native Sisters

I as Cherokee must take a stand,
  and say no more missing females from Native lands

Too many have gone missing through the years,
  Along with too much sorrow and tears

I along with my Native sisters must stand and fight,
  Along with our brothers to do what's right

I will shed my blood if

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