Poem post: Indigenous Poetry
Mar. 30th, 2023 08:54 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
radiantfractureSome 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.
{rf}
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.
{rf}
no subject
Date: 2023-03-30 06:38 pm (UTC)I just discovered Corpse Whale earlier this year!
no subject
Date: 2023-03-30 10:02 pm (UTC)Ah, what do you think of it? How did you come across it?
no subject
Date: 2023-03-31 12:07 am (UTC)I discovered, possibly just by trawling the archives, "Warming," and then I had to read the book it had come from. I loved it. I loved its mix of languages and perspective and time. I haven't read her second collection, Blood Snow (2022).
no subject
Date: 2023-03-30 11:24 pm (UTC)(I've started two classes with pimîhkân but they struggle.
no subject
Date: 2023-03-31 06:00 am (UTC)Yesss and then we can talk about them
no subject
Date: 2023-03-31 10:40 am (UTC)Thank you!
Date: 2023-03-31 08:27 am (UTC)I've used indigenous poetry in classes too. :D
Re: Thank you!
Date: 2023-03-31 02:34 pm (UTC)Thanks! What poems do you like to teach?
Re: Thank you!
Date: 2023-04-01 07:23 am (UTC)Re: Thank you!
Date: 2023-04-01 07:35 am (UTC)Thank you for the files!
Re: Thank you!
Date: 2023-04-01 08:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2023-03-31 11:47 am (UTC)It's been a long time since I've sat down with indiginous things other than music and flutes.
It brings me back to a perspective I thought was buried-and reminds me that I still belive that everything here is connected-a circle that never ends, so thank you for that reminder.
And damn these are good-siting with Clarien (Who wrote just a bit ago-discussing them with him...makes it even more worth the treck here.
I'm not sure what else to say, except for thank you for the learning/growth experience.
-T~
no subject
Date: 2023-03-31 02:34 pm (UTC)Thank you!
no subject
Date: 2023-04-01 12:32 pm (UTC)Are any of these in audio format? The body that houses us is blind, and while a braille device helps-the speech doesn't; the indigenous language words get mangled something awfully fierce :(
)And boy let me tell you the Braille device helps a lot, especially with poems that have a more visual element. Like ones whose lines form a shape/have something that is capitalized, etc.)
-Trausio~
no subject
Date: 2023-04-03 04:55 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2023-03-31 01:18 pm (UTC)In the sweetgrass one, I like endless like the scent and words from bogs and marshes. And I really like "The Way We Love Something Small."
no subject
Date: 2023-03-31 02:49 pm (UTC)I wish! I know a very little bit about Anishinaabemowin from reading scholars' discussions of specific words and structures (Basil Johnston, Louise Erdrich), but not to read it. (I believe that's the language in the sweetgrass poem.)
How about you?
Me too! "the translucent claws of newborn mice" is such a tender way to begin, and I love that it ends with a magic wand.
Yes! The fusing of song, weaving, and scent is beautiful.
no subject
Date: 2023-03-31 04:11 pm (UTC)No, sadly not, though I learned a few words of Tikuna during my trip. I'd love to, though!
no subject
Date: 2023-04-03 05:40 pm (UTC)Maybe we'll collaborate one day. :)