Under the Buffalo Blankets

 Under the Buffalo Blankets

Under the Buffalo Blankets

I think of you Mooshum –

My link to this land.

You never said the words –

The school took them –

But,

You lived

You made

You taught.

I want to tell you

A—and I found our ways

We carry those voices

One of “those Brady’s”

 

I want to say

For each chocolate cake I eat a bite for you

Each fall, I choose a gourd and hope that it will dry.

I want to hear that noise

The wonder

That food could sing

I want to whisper “We are still here.”

But I don’t have to because you already know.

 

Pehiw Awakening 2022

Gangsta in a sun dress (Part 2)

 Gangsta in a sun dress

Winding way through

Words missing letters

I’ve picked the bits up

Always a plan

To stitch the pieces back

The stolen treasures

Tickle my fingers

Telling jokes

Flesh to flesh

Hear a needle, hear a thread

Bringing tight

Who saves who in this last minute intervention?

I lie the letters out to find a pattern, a words, a phrase

A heart beat

A nothing

-        draw breathe –

An everything

The one is all

The all is one

 

Pehiw, Hibernation 2021

The first Gangsta in a sundress poem is here.

Devious Data Dames - When economists find "love"

Devious Data Dames

Devious data dames

Dance in veils

Standard deviations

Directional causality

Probabilistic….

Too hot?

Too many hands?

Low R²

Low interest rate?

 

Well, the back room has been booked

If you want a happy ending.

And let me tell you,

The central bank is still blushing.

The treasury gone for tax cuts with the wife.

The stock market has finally “deflated”

 

Wanna make history?

Observe the phenomena and move the curve?

-Just ask in back -

Most nice economotrixes don’t do “that” thing,

But motivate my markets

And maybe you can monopolize my human capital.

I would reveal a strong preference for you

At least until market forces

And efficiency

Suggest a higher utility option.

 

Pehiw Hibernation 2021

Like Chomsky and Foucault

 Like Chomsky and Foucault

 What if every word was woven into a blanket?

Could I sleep well under it’s weight?

What if every thought was a patchwork?

All my ancestor carry the edges and cradle me into hope?

What if our medicines were our favorite outfit?

The one that makes us feel amazing,

The suit of real us.

What if our listening was the gallery?

The place where you and I and we made beauty until the circle healed?

What if our beauty danced?

From paint to brush

To body and voice?

Maybe like Chomsky and Foucault

Our conversation will echo through those caves,

The fires,

Rousing

Deep times

Deep knowing

Deep roots?

We need you

You are the we

You are the all.

 ***

Pehiw Hibernation 2021

Métis Fear 391

 

Métis Fear 391: before gathering, lay down your tobaccos and check for killer mushrooms.  They are not poisonous, but they are not worth the drama.

Métis Fear 390

 

Métis Fear 390: I do not give my duck relations enough hugs.

  

Both

Both

Both tree and telephone pole

Stand beside roads

One stripped of life but “useful;”

The other alive but “unproductive”

I stood between the two 

until my bus came.

 

Pehiw Hibernation 2021

Métis Fear 380

 

Métis Fear 389: If I don't listen to the animal relations when I am awake, they may share their messages in other ways.

When libraries could dance – a Nanabush tale

 When libraries could dance – a Nanabush tale

What if,

We take as given

That libraries

Most generally

Exhibit a marked preference to obey

The very basic laws of gravity.

 

But,

I have heard

There was a time

When Nanabush

Bored with tricks and troubles,

Juggling eyeballs

And dancing Grandmother Moon so long,

Her shoes grew holes and the start went to sleep.

 

Bored, he decided to dabble in dedicated troubles

And set to woo the most beautiful library

Said to contain all the knowledge ever known

She was the definition of everything sublime

So Nanabush was sure she was a worthy match for his most exalted self.

 

But all his loves

Past and present and future burned with anger

For that library was a lie, a slut and a homewrecker.

The lovers gathers

To dissect

To scheme

To plan

To know.

So each night in his ears they whispered a secret

Of women

Of slaves

Of queers

Of the “other”

And waited

Until Nanabush won his love.

 

But Nanabush after knowing library

Carnally

Wonderfully

And showering himself in her greatest thoughts

Nanabush grew suspicious

-Library he thought – keeps secrets

And his suspicions grew great

Beyond the boundaries of our island

He grew angry at Birch

Who told him of the harm library brought to the branched ones.

He grew angry at the Grandfathers who decried his love

As she gave knowledge to any person.

Who did not love before she shared.

He grew angry

And angry

And angry

Until he destroyed.

 

He always apologizes,

attempts to rebuild,

Tries to forget.

But that day

Before the destruction

We stood amazed as he dances his love one last time around the universe

Sometimes

If you walk with the green things

If they come to trust

They might show you a scrap from that once great library.

 

Pehiw Hibernation 2021

How does abundance lead to hope?

 How does abundance lead to hope?

The mathematics of the universe,

A favorite song,

Lived grooves,

Laugh lines,

Cutting our faces

Our worn canyons hold

Treasures and cool.

Shadows,

Spirits,

Sacred.

You are abundance

Even while some breaths still hurt.

 

We could trade pains

Or we could work together

And build a home

For everything we have walked through.

There we will trade stories and

Fill libraries of “lost” stories.

But we were always here.

Circles of those who did not fit.

Those who asked the questions because they needed answers.

Those whose bodies were policed as crimes.

 

We still see their dreams

We water their seeds

We rest under the trees they grew with hope.

 

Pehiw Hibernation 2021