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About Me

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Minnesota, United States
As I walk along in life, my muses dance with reflection inspiring me to release the thoughts and emotions of my pondering mind through poetry.

Prompt Poetry & Promotion page for The River

*plus the archive of my older poetry

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

A Canvas of Music


On the floor, I stand
motionless
soaking in the rhythm
absorbing the beats
feeling the music from within.

My hips are the first to move
to the rhythmic muse
pulsing through my body.

My legs are next
steps that match
the sway to my hips.

My back and shoulders respond
with a lift and a twist.
Following suit, my arms
stay in flow with the tempo.

My body a canvas of music
dancing across the floor

movements of unison
steps of beat
a slow shake of the hip
a shoulder curls
as an arm carves the
rhythms in the air.

My body a canvas of music
the music my muse
dancing across life’s stage.

I wake up
sadly realizing
it was all a dream.
                   9/10 (rewrite)

~I was a dancer and now I dream of dancing. I can still dance with my upper body with no problem but that is not the case for the lower half. I have a right leg and hip that are week and have some balance difficulties all from the progression of Multiple Sclerosis. One of my goals is to dance like I used to again. It can be done with patience, time, and hard work.  :)







 

A  video of me reading A Canvas of Music.  :)I finally figured out how to read them without extra.
A new video 12/5/10

video
please inform me if the video does not work :)


* For One Shot Wednesday at One Stop Poetry  week 13
*photos from goggle images


Sunday, September 26, 2010

My 1st Haibun

This is my first attempt at writing a Haibun. A Haibun is a Haikai prose which is haiku and a traveling descriptive prose.The idea is from a prompt by Big Tent Poetry.
Magical was a plus.


Thanks to goggle
They met on the forest edge, a Centaur and a man. Two old childhood friends gather together for a quest. They are off to rescue another in critical danger. She offended the Queen of Paratha, a beheading is scheduled in days. A mean and nasty ruler of the western side, they will have to use clever trickery.

The mist lingered
Forest wide
Together they rode

They disguised themselves to enter, a confused Prince and mythical servant. Marshal arts and magic are hard to defend against. To the dungeons they go sure to win. Their friend who is a gnome was singing in her cell. They use magic to quickly transport them out safely. They appear in the forest, hidden in the mist. They accomplished their quest, three friends ride off together into the forest.
Thanks to goggle images
 

Friday, September 24, 2010

Poetry~ Reminiscing Autumns Past~


I drink my morning coffee camped out on the deck
wrapped in my favorite holey sweater.
Soaking in the magnificent colors of change surrounding me,
breathing in the familiar brisk air as the geese honk goodbye.
I jump at the sound of my sleepy eyed daughter opening the door
looking for her morning hug then leaving as fast as time can pass.
I watch her stroll away, amazed. It’s been ten years!
It’s been ten years since you left!
Ten turn to twenty as memories flood my thoughts.
I remember our hikes dressed in scarves and sweaters
gathering leaves of color and size by armfuls.
Reciting poems to one another as we sat
overlooking the Mississippi valley
smoking a joint and giggling.
The stolen kisses and teasing of future moments.
The different paths that branched us away
believing in a future that was not then.
I remember the phone call many years later.
The tragedy of loosing you forever,
the gift of a new life growing inside me.

River 8/10





Wednesday, September 22, 2010

What random object has been left beside the door?


I slowly navigate down our flights of stairs

pondering the mystery that lies at the bottom.

The mystery of objects left….

Yesterday a bag filled of clothes

Last week a frying pan, a playpen

Today, will it be a pile of books

or a set of towels?

What random object has been left beside the door?

Where did it come from?

Where is it to go?

I wonder who leaves these objects and why?

Truly, I don’t really want to know.

I want the mystery, the secret

to continue intriguing me.

These random objects left beside the door

each have a story, a lost history

a tale I am free to imagine just

how I want it to be.

The objects we have all left behind

a pair of glasses, a pink sweater

significant or trivial

forgotten or missed

they are pieces to our story

pieces of life we have all left behind.

I almost forgot…

What random object has been left beside the door?

Today, a stack of old dishes.




Monday, September 20, 2010

5 ~Dancers of Past & Present ~

I wake Sunday morning to a silent camp, an odor of freshly made coffee drifts through the air. I stumble from our tent gravitating towards the smell coming from the camp next to us. The trail ends at our friend’s camper. I am offered a piping hot cup of coffee and a seat by the fire with conversation. No one stirs in our camp until I am on my second cup making my way back. Katrina is climbing out of our tent as well as a couple of our fellow campers.
I stoke the fire while Katrina is settling into her chair. Looking around I notice we all are sun touched and tired from the long and exciting day yesterday. We have another full day awaiting us. A wonderful day with the beats of the drums and the movements of the dancers.
“What a beautiful morning,” I pronounce to Katrina and my two friends. “It’s going to be a colorful autumn if this weather continues.” They all nod in agreement with me.
“I’m going to go risk the cold and take a shower,” exclaims Mike. “It’s early maybe there’s some warm water left.”
“I am too,” adds Mary.
They both head out with their bathroom bags leaving Katrina and I sitting by the fire.
“I think it’s important I explain the different dance styles today. This morning, I could give you a run down and then during the powwow this afternoon, I will point them out. How’s that sound to you?” I ask her.
“That sounds perfect. I was wondering about them yesterday but we were focused in a different direction. There is a lot to know about powwows. I had no idea,” admits Katrina.
“Yeah, there is even more. That will have to be for next time,” I tell her. “Now, it is time for the dancers. You probably noticed there are men and women categories. The children and teenagers dance the same styles as the adults. It is important to know that each dancer dances their category with their own personal style. Of course, there are standards to bide by with dress and dance. It is best to lean towards more of a traditional or conservative way of dress.”
“I would like to start explaining the different styles of dance with the women then move on to the men….”
“Women, teenagers, and girls have three categories of styles of dance. Jingle, Fancy Shawl, and Women Traditional. The Jingle Dress is a healing dress. An Ojibwe Midewin man had a dream…But I will ask my friend Betty if she would tell the story to you tonight around the fire. She’s awesome at telling it. Jingle Dress Story Later, I will point out some Jingle Dress dancers in the circle. An adult woman makes her dress with 365 cones on it to represent the days of the year. Some have elk teeth and shells. I love the sounds they make when a woman is dancing.”
“The Fancy Shawl is a beautiful dance mimicking the movements of a Butterfly with quick steps that are so light it barely looks as if she touches the ground. Young women yearned for a stylistic approach to traditional dance. In the 1950’s they began dancing Fancy Shawl with the colors, fringe, and movements.” Fancy Shawl Dance
“The most beautiful and oldest women style of dance is Women Traditional or Buckskin. There are cloth and ribbon Women Traditional dancers too. Both styles dance tall and proud with small light steps that never fully leave the ground signifying their connection to Mother Earth. These women are the “backbone” of the nation.” Both Women Traditional Dance
“Men, teenagers, and boys have four categories of styles of dance. Mens Traditional, Grass Dancer, Fancy, and Chicken Dancer. The Chicken Dancers is a traditional religious dance that mimics the prairie chicken. Story In the north where I attend powwows it is not common to see more than one at a powwow but this is not the case everywhere.” Dance
“Mens Fancy Dancers are colorful spirited dancers with quick footwork and high jumps. They have two multi colored bustles and ribbon whips to emphasize their movements. It is not a traditional dance with its birth in the 1920’s.” Dance
“Grass Dance is a traditional dance that mimics the prairie grass blowing in the wind. They were the people asked to go stomp down the grass in the arena by dancing before a powwow. Traditionally, grass was hung off of a belt and today the outfits are made with yarn.” Dance1 Dance2
“Mens Traditional dancers tell hunting and war stories through dance or character. They preserve an old way of dancing. In the traditional past, only a few dignified warriors wore a roach and bustle distinguishing them has Traditional Dancers. Today, a Mens Traditional Dancer is known the same way.” Dance There are  different styles of Mens Traditional.
Later that day……
“We have pay out and dancing the flags out left then the Powwow is over.” I tell Katrina as Willow comes walking up with her dance money in hand. She hands over half of it and goes on her merry way to catch up to her friends.
Katrina looks at me funny. “They pay the dancers for coming and dancing. It is the way people can keep up with their regalia and get to the powwows.” I explain.
“What was your favorite part?” I ask Katrina.
“Ummm,” Katrina says lost in thought as my category is called for pay out.
“I will be right back.” I tell her heading out into the circle.
As I am walking up to her ten minutes or so later, Katrina announces to me with a wide smile, “I can’t narrow it down to just one favorite. There are at least a handful of my most favorite moments.”
An hour later, we were flying down the highway blaring Keith Secola again this time heading home. I lean towards Katrina telling her, “Katrina, you are welcome to come anytime with Willow and I to a powwow.”
She lights up replying, “I would love to come again! There is so much more for me to learn and see plus I have never laughed so hard as I have this weekend. Thank you for inviting me!”
I smile back wondering why I had not heard a sound from Willow for a while. I check on her in the rear view mirror and she’s sound asleep. Katrina and I look at each other giggling relating to the light snores from the backseat.

Friday, September 10, 2010

1 Caution Entering Indian Country by Powwow

First of five piece series educational story
~NDN Kars by Keith Secola~
We pull into the Powwow grounds late Friday afternoon with NDN Kars blaring out the windows. I turn it down and look at my two companions with a smile, “We are here!” There are people everywhere laughing and joking, setting up camps, a drum can be heard in the distance. We find a place to park and get out. I start looking around for the group we usually camp with for the weekend. All of a sudden, I am grabbed and tickled from behind by an old friend. She giggles teasing me, “We took bets if your car was gonna make it here this year. ” I laugh, “Did ya win?”  “Ya, I knew you’d get here some how or another.” We jump back in the car and park by the home we will know for the next few days. The camp is full of friends and family, people I have never met before, and of course kids. My daughter runs off to see her friends she only knows from Powwows. I turn to say Boozhoo, give hugs, and introduce my friend Korean that came with us. Its her first Powwow. I turn to look at her. Oh man, she looks shell-shocked. So many Indians in one place. Howaa!
I have given Korean a heads up about Indian humor. It is a hard thing to explain and better to experience first hand to understand. Lots of teasing, laughing, and joking around. There is an outlook in life where you laugh with and at life. An old professor of mine said it the best when he told me, “An Indian teasing ya only means he loves ya.”
A couple of guys offer to unload the car of all our gear. When the tent emerges, Koreen and I begin setting up our weekend home. Her eyes were buzzing with excitement. She had questions already for me. “Do people do this all summer? How is this organized? There are so many people everywhere.”
I explain to her, “There is a Powwow committee that has been planning and organizing the Powwow for months maybe even a year. There are people working constantly during the weekend from bathroom and garbage duties to security and fire keeper. There are no drugs or alcohol allowed on Powwow grounds.” I smile telling her, “Its only Friday. There will be a lot more people camping this time tomorrow and even more bystanders watching the Powwow. One year there were like 800 Dancers and the stands were full.” She looks around trying to imagine what I am saying to her. “There are people that follow the Powwow Trail all season. Some are families and others are Drum groups. There is a Powwow every weekend somewhere between the two types. I am a Traditional Powwow gal. There are competition Powwows too.”
That night we have a camp dinner of venison stew and fresh biscuits off the fire. We take turns giving mini updates of our lives from the last year. The group breaks out in laughter every few minutes with exceptions from either a funny part of a story or someone teasing the storyteller. The teasing remark is usually joined by another and another. By the end the night our sides hurt from laughing so much.
The next day, we wake to the bustle of a camp preparing breakfast. I grab a cup of coffee and see where I can help. It is the last camp meal for the weekend. Everyone has to fend for themselves except the Powwows feast at dinner and breakfast Sunday morning.
After breakfast is cleaned up, a bunch of us head out to the Saturday morning Walk/Run sponsored by the Tribal Health. I get some teasing from some of the guys if I need to be carried. I laugh saying “No” knowing they are making light of the fact I am limping along with a cane. I tease them back reminding them, “You guys never won one of the races. I did! I won the one mile for my age bracket.” One says with a teasing smile, “Not anymore!” Another butts in,“ I bet ya she’ll do it again.” I glance over at my friend Korean who is smiling. We both burst out laughing knowing she gets it, she understands Indian Humor. One of the guys looks at us curiously, “What are you two on?”  By now the whole gang is laughing.
We all migrate back to camp on our own times with a T-shirt in hand and a refreshed look on our faces. Some of us ran and most of us walked. I pour water for the three of us and sit down to do Willows hair. I can not help teasing her about her short hair this year.  I explain to Korean, “We have to get ready for the Powwow.” She knows we both dance, but has never seen us in full Regalia. Willow and I go and get dressed in our separate styles. When we return, I sit down next to Korean while a friend does my hair with braids and feathers. I ask her what she has enjoyed the most so far. I don’t think it took her more than a minute to light up with her answer. “The strong sense of family and community and of course Indian humor”…..15 minutes to Grand Entry.

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