Poem post: Indigenous Poetry

Some notes on my morning's wander through Indigenous poetry.

This morning I have a very fun task -- searching for poems by Indigenous poets for the next writing workshop at the friendship center. I had originally thought to use Abigail Chabitnoy's "If You're Going to Look Like a Wolf, They Have to Love You More than They Fear You" and
dg nanouk okpik's "If Oil is Drilled in Bristol Bay," -- both northern poets, Chabitnoy Alutiiq and okpik Inupiaq-Inuit.

These are wonderful poems -- I'd like to do a post on okpik's, which is new to me -- but I was chatting to the co-ordinator about themes (last time happened to fall close to Louis Riel Day and so reading Métis poets was natural) -- and when I asked her for ideas, she suggested that we look for spring poems and poems about indigenous plants. She said, "let's save the northern poems for the summer, when we're all hot."

I thought yes, I like that better, so now I am looking for spring poems and poems about plants.

Kimberly Blaeser (Minnesota Chippewa) is a naturalist. Here's "The Way We Love Something Small," and "The Where in My Belly." There are seasons here, and plants and animals, but I think I can get closer if I keep going.

This is cool -- a collaboration between Blaeser, Molly McGlennan, and Margaret Doodin, "Meshkadoonaawaa Ikidowinan: Exchanging Words."

The second poem or reflection there is very much the sort of thing I think the co-ordinator meant. The action here is the weaving of a sweetgrass basket.

wiingashk—sweetgrass

How she stitched the rim, gashkigwaadan.
Leaf blades and needle fingers circled,
smallest curve, waaganagamod, of song—
endless like the scent.

Held, there are, atenoon, some parts
one cannot see—
but she knows, gikendaang, what they hold.
Words from bogs and marshes.

Heaven fits neatly, mii gwayak, under
the snug lid, shut tight as lips
long used to gaadood, keeping secrets
of grandmothers and crane companions.


I think that's one to keep, yeah?

Here's an essay on how the poets wrote it.

Now I'm over here on poetryinvoice looking at the poems they chose, and Nehiyaw poet Jessica Johns' "How Not to Spill" isn't what I'm looking for today but damn.

And here's one about land by Lakota poet Trevino L. Brings Plenty, "Will," that takes my breath both with its exploration of land loss and its spot-on evocation on what it's like to eat Curiously Strong Peppermints -- hey, I just counted lines and that's a sonnet, so it can come on over and be part of Sonnet Day in my general literature course.

That's the great thing about this wander -- if the poems don't work for the writing group, they can still come be part of other courses and conversations.

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