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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, October 26, 2010

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

video




posted for One Shoot Wednesday wk 17 on One Stop Poetry

* thanks to google image for the picture

Monday, October 25, 2010

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

Tuesday, October 19, 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

Sunday, October 17, 2010

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

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

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

Monday, October 11, 2010

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!


Tuesday, October 5, 2010

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  :)

Monday, October 4, 2010

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

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