A month of (Native) poetry #4

Fourth installment to honor National Poetry Month, and all those brilliant Native poets out there!

The first, really, the first line still rings in my ears, like an anthem. "Today, I am more native than yesterday..."

And I promise it's not just because she's a fellow Tlingit, and Raven moiety as well! The whole subject of the poem is really only something I've begun to understand in the last few years, "And my heart spoke a purpose in my life,/of seeking integrity in myself..."

It's the kind of poem that you have to think on for a few hours, or a few years, and really let it sink into your life. The rhyme scheme isn't that strong, maybe, but it is easy to ignore because of the quite peaceful, and strong, words she writes.

The second messed with my mind a little, so I thought I'd share. It kind of reminded me of my Intro to Philosophy class, when the professor showed us the french painting of an apple, with the words painted across it, "This is not an apple."

Moses is a Canadian First Nations member, I believe.

Today

Today, I am more native than yesterday,
I didn't hurry so fast, running from my past,
I sat real still when I was alone,
didn't have to call someone on the phone,
listening to the silence until my head heard,
my heart speaking to me....
And my heart spoke of purpose in my life,
of seeking integrity in myself,
of walking a solitary path of peace,
seeking harmony instead of wealth,
of seeing the strength in a prayer,
sharing with my children the power there,
of honoring everything that is alive,
being one with nature, not strife....
On this journey I walk,
my heart continues to talk,
turning me into what I was born this day,
for I am more Native than yesterday....

- Melody Jackson

The Line

This is not the poem, this line

I'm feeding you. And the thought

that this line is not the poem

is not it either. Instead

the thought of what this line is not is

the weight that sinks it

in. And though this image of

that thought as a weight is quite

a neat figure of speech, you

know what it's not

this time let the line smoothly

arc to this spot, and now lets

it reach down to one other,

one further rhyme

of which almost does measure

up, the way it keeps the line

stirring through the dampening

air. Oh, you know you can hear

the lure in that. As you know

you've known from the start the self

referring this line's doing

was a hook bit of wit that made you look

and see how clear it is no

part of this line or its gear

could be the poem. Still it cast

and kept the line reeling out

till now at last the hook's on

to itself and about to

tie this line I'm feeing you

up with a knot. Referring

to itself has got the line and us nowhere. So clever's

not what the poem is about

either. We're left hanging there

while something like a snout starts

nudging at your ear, nibbling

near my mouth

it's the poem about to take

the bait. From the inside ought

to be a great way to learn

what the poem is. And we'll use

this line when the poem's drawn it

taut and fine as breath to tell

what we know, where we are and

where we'll go

breaks. How would it feel, knowing,

at last, what the poem really

is, to lack the line to speak?

- Daniel David Moses