Nokomisag

Nokomisag

I land in the cradled arms of a river

touched by her grace

embraced in her love

I bathe in her waters

under a full moon

praying to my grandmothers

nibi minowa giizis

for strength and guidance

for their teachings of

releasing and healing

cleansing and cycling

singing

songs

gathering

medicines

replenishing

lost strength

 Miigwech Nokomisag

                         

                            River 10/10

posted for One Shoot Wednesday wk 17 on One Stop Poetry

* thanks to google image for the picture

Tea with Fuller and a Few More

Wouldn’t it be something
to be at a
Transcendentalism meeting
back in the day with
Thoreau
Whitman
Fuller
Oh…
that would be amazing.

I would fit right in
challenging conventional thought,
challenging each other to
think outside the box
write even better.

I can see it now...
My arms flaring,
eyes glowing,
thoughts pouring,
passion uttered
with every word.

That is when I got a word in
with all those philosophical minds.

Protesting 19th Century
Culture and Society.
Resisting conformity from
Unitarian Doctrines,
Harvard Intellectuals.
Writing and debating for
Freedoms of thought,
Religion, and person.

I would be friends with
Margaret Fuller.
Two women
among a few more
in a group of men.
Intelligent,
Strong
Women.
Feminists
voicing their thoughts,
their opinions
for the centuries of women
that were hushed
and would be for
generations
and still are.

All of them at the table
living way before their times.
The strength,
the perseverance
it took for them to continue
opening the doors for
You and I.
People were laughing at them,
others shunning them,
a few applauding.
While, we will never know
how many hid away
with their writings.

I would love to tell them
their writings are studied today,
praised for the thought and work.
I would love to tell them
they were a part of change,
Inspirational to many,
Revolutionary to thought.

I need to tell them
The truth about Indians.
Culturally
Religiously
Persecuted!
Misunderstood and
unjustly Romanticized
their time through my time.

It would be something
to go back in time
and have tea with
Thoreau
Whitman
Fuller
All the members of the
Transcendental Club.

It would be something,
Unforgettable!
Even if I could only tell them
Thank You!

©River 6/2010

Milkweed Fritters and Sumac Ice Tea

Our appetites are awakened

from the smells of food

cooking over an open fire.

A dinner gathered

with our bare hands,

caught by pole.

A meal of survival and skill

tickling taste buds

we dig in…

watercress, dandelion, and sorrel
salad topped with raspberries

Milkweed fritters and Sumac ice tea

violets and wild rose delicate with beauty

fried Rainbow Trout with boiled

wild onion and arrowhead bulbs

yellow goats beard, and nettles

steamed with wild ginger

nibbling on wintergreen

we lean back, content

gently holding hands

absorbing the beauty

our fingers begin to play

joining an orchestra of music

a symphony by the river

painted in sunset blaze

a hawk calls for her mate

the last petal curls to bed

our lips meet

bursting with passion

wrapped in your arms

in bliss, I am.

                                           ©River 10/10



*Posted for One Shot Wednesday #16~ One Stop Poetry
image thanks to google images

A Winters Wind ~duel poetry

 By Charles Martin and River Urke

A Winters Wind

these things you hold so dear
cradled in your hands
as if a delicate bloom
are mere shadows of your past
you long to hold as it was
cradling a memory
framed in yesterday
unwilling to set him free
but he is not yours to hold
he belongs to a winter's wind
flowing through these barren trees
like his fingers once in your long hair
combing the woven threads of knowledge
the tangled web of life’s intrinsic collective
delicately kissing a union of unattainable love
knowing he has to walk the paths not taken
your ache bears the weight of drowned tears
tears flowing from a thousand souls
abandoned by the gods of peace
and so each warrior must leave this place
and those he loves for one last futile battle

a battle of man against the natural world

a ludicrous yet crucial clash of power
he stands not with men ~horrified by
the hundreds of years of rap and pillage

leaving the earth a barren tract of sand
sand moving in the hour glass of history
though this narrow passage way of fate
to where his death will be found

the mere moment you know, stabbed

your heart bleeds for you and your unborn

a wail of agony escapes through silent cries

the loss of your beloved, her father

the time is here to set him free~

his soul flies with a winters wind.

By Charles Martin and River Urke                 

This is the third duel poem Charles and I have written together. Both of us wondered about where this one was going to go then like the others it turned out really cool.

Duel Poetry:  a prearranged poetry writing challenge  between two people to evolve a new poem where each writer must respond to the other writer’s lines  (4 -5 ) until both parties agree that the poem is complete.

 

~ Dating Blues ~

 






Dating comes in a vast array of colors

from pink to black to red to blue.

All depending on ones age and story.

I am in my mid thirties, walking with a cane

a growing child along my side

entering the dating world disabled.

The colors swarm around me

as I play my part

face to face with the Blues of dating.

I am asked, “Why do you have a cane?”

“What do you do for a living?”

Do I lie? Do I tell only part of my story?

I flat out tell my story

only to watch their eyes get bigger,

the look of flight settling in the rings

as they bolt away like lightening

during a summer storm.

I stand in the Blackness of dating                                    

hesitant to step, longing to sit.

But I believe in love!

No matter if you are fat, thin,

white, black or even disabled

Love does not discriminate.

I convince myself to give it

one more try before I walk away and sit

from the qualms of dating.

He seems different then the rest

He touched my heart

during hours on the phone.

I enter with thoughts of Rose

hoping Blackness doesn’t seep through

staining my face with doubt.

I sit down across from him

neither of us uttering a word

he reaches over to touch my hand

Our eyes lock in one united color

I am bursting with the warmth of Red.

                                         River ©2010 
 







posted for Thursday Think Tank~ Poets United #19 Colors

The Line from Hell

We are all familiar with the game of waiting.

Waiting in line at the grocery store,

fifth in line outside the ice cream shop.

Waiting for your turn to check out, to grab

the lunch you ordered to go. I thought

it was all the same with the waiting game

then I came across the parent line.

A line like no other line,

A line from Hell.

Parked cars running,

on a track destined forward

rising behind a long narrow snake 

tediously waiting to move.

One person per car sits

on the phone,

reading mail,

staring off

waiting.

Time slowly ticks by

Five minutes

Ten

Finally movement, but…no

Moving along like trained mice

in slow mo.

bumper to bumper crawling

Stop and Go!

a true test of patience

a test to authenticate parents

before the front of the line.

A line where there is an end

coming around the bend

Marked by a child playing

the waiting game….  

River 10/10

* Posted for One Shot Wednesday  week 15
There is lots of good poetry to read~ check it out  :)

The full Moon rises to the East

She dances under the Birch
To the music of her soul
Bare feet against wet Earth
Freer then she has ever known

She dances a healing dance
To cleanse the invisible wounds
Buried through generations
Deep within the soul

She dances for all women
Young, weak, strong and old
Women across waters and land
Throughout all of time

She dances secret knowledge
Beats of movement and song
Mothers have taught to Daughters
Since the days of Avalon

She dances under the full Moon
Encircled by the magic
As they have for Centuries
And will forever more

River 7/10

ColumbusDay?

Columbus Day~ What a Joke

A lie America has hid behind
unwilling to reveal the truth.

Instead, celebrating a horrible person,

A greedy murderer.

What does this say about the USA??

There is a movement towards 
changing the day

Happy Indigenous Peoples Day!

The Bird with a Bad Rap

Old Europe permeated with fear,
evil lurked in shadows
people thought, Crazed in fright
superstitions swarming
bad omens dispersing
protection for the paranoid.

A bird was trapped for evil deeds
Omens were wrapped in their flight
Seeing two gave bad luck,
one meant death was tonight.

Misconstrued through fears
an intelligent and cunning bird
found guilty for hundreds of years.

Stories traveled of the bird
by folk lore they flew
with the dark side children heard.

A bird misread even now
superstitions gone away
dirty replaced evil
bad is still around today.

Don’t you think the time is here
for the bad rap
on the crow to finally disappear?

River 10/10

Thanks Goggle images

Crows

A bird of many created disguises
kept in stories by cultures and times.
Observed by some taking care of its sick,
deemed protectors of their children and home.
Others who closely listened to them commune
believe them to be a passer of knowledge
they say Stop and listen when they caw.

Even so, to the ones who run the show
this intelligent and cunning bird
is no more then a foul, dirty,
scavenger you chase
with a broom.

Come on, stop and listen to the crow
they have more to teach then you know.

River 10/10

Thanks to goggle images

Poems for One Shoot Wednesday week14
click the link to read many more poems  :)

Circle of Life

Circle

directions

elements

seasons

life

Have you ever thought about the significance of four?

People around the globe

Catholicism to Buddhism to mine Traditional Anishinaabe(Ojibwe)

four is important

 

Thanks to goggle images for the picture 

for prompt Monday Potluck