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  Dec 2014 Aaron Mullin
Velvet Elk
Piyak

Nipiyakwaskātikawin kiyāpic ce kisākihin
e macāwasisīwi yān ce Penāsin hāw
ninēstomon      ninanothacihikwak oki
ni wēsaki mosihtān      nipakamistikwanihokawin kanihithoyan

Sepī kinwastēwikamikwa ita mistāpiwak kinakiskawānawak
Nospatahten wēthipāpwi ekā ikēpakitatāmowīn
Nikanistāpāwān awikāchi nēyaw kitasipweyahotew
Nikaaskēthihten nikawi esi mihcicitik tapiskoc āniskawēthikosak

Tapwe kithipan asay pinipakāw
Māka Manitokosisān nitīhihk ayāw
Wētha e - apisīsisīyān ekwa e māthātiseyān. Nikakīpatisin
kiyam āta cmachātisēyān Nipīhkihik tāpisochkona
Namwac nikawihtēn nikapāpwān hāw
Namac nikawihtēn awikāci maciskotehk nikihtotān hāw


Niso

Pesim wapimēw tipiskāwi pesimwa tahtokesikāw
kēhkānakosiwak ācakosak pitowenam awēyak
Nikipahokanwin…Nikāwi
Nitakēhtēn tipistihona pihtokamihk
Pīhcāyik mistikowatihk nikīmocimāton
Nimāmitonithitēn epimmāsāhki ohcikiwāpowina
Nitakimāwak ahkētāp acāhkosak
Peyak mena neso tānihki, tanihki kohci kitimāhiyek
Tepwāsin nohtāwi e-tipiskāk ekwa e-kesikāk
kēmōc namwac kikawīhten
Kāwitha wīhta maciskotihk kikītisahotin
Kasākocihitin Tota kītitān
Nistomitanow nike taketason kihtwān
akehtaso isko kitaponipathik kihtwām



Nisto

Pipon! Titipi konakāw aski
nita okīsikohkān konihk
e-wāskāpit thoskisiw wāsisiw kona
pēyakwan enīmihitochik wāskā

nitosīhtān mistahiwāskahikan - chīstē
okimāskwīsis oma nētha nimistahiwāskahikanihk
namōtha wītha kitimāki nihithāsis
nimithosin ēkwa niwapiskisin tāpiskōch kona

Nikāwi - nikakwātakithawēsin
namotha ninohtē pīmātisin epakwātaman pimatisiwin
mena machihtowin.
Namōtha nohtaw athistiniw itāmihk nasakāhk
Tānthikoh kinwēs ota wihchēkanohk kāwīkipahokaweyān!
Ispē kiwēyāni nikasēkipatwān
Pimātisēyani āhpo nipēyāni, Nikāwi, nikasēkipatwān.



I

I’m here all alone. Do you still love me?
Am I bad? I’m sorry. Come get me. Please.
I cry and cry and cry, the big ones tease.
I hurt. She hits my head when I speak Cree.

In screaming bath houses we face giants.
I inhale black water with each blue breath.
Will I drown or float softly into death?
I miss you nimama in this city of ants.

All too slow the seasons change, the leaves go.
But now Jesus Christ lives inside my heart.
Since I’m a little, ugly girl. Not Smart.
Although, I’m bad He makes me white as snow.
I promise I won’t tell. I promise. Please.
And I won’t tell or I’ll go to hell. Please.


II

The fast sun tags the moon day after day.
Under bright stars echoing footsteps come
Inside the bad room I call for you nimama
I counted the steps along the hallway.

I stay in a box, in silence I cry
Shiny tear drop bubbles float in my mind
Beneath and behind sad stars, I count blind.
One plus one is two. Why? Why hurt me? Why?

Call me dear Father by night and by day.
And this is our secret, you will not tell.
Now don’t tell. I can send you straight to hell.
I’m bigger than you. You do what I say.
I can count to thirty over again
Count until it’s over, over again.

III

Winter has come! Snow has covered the world.
I’m a little snow angel that glimmers
In spirals, fluffy, shiny snow shimmers
See the dancing snow flakes around me twirl.

I made a castle. Look what I can do!
I’m the princess of my own snow castle.
No filthy little Indian rascal.
I am a pretty and white snow flake too.

Nimama, my chest crackles hot fiery red rage
How can I live when I hate life and sin?
Where there’s no less human in my skin.
How long will I stink and rot in this cage!?
And when I leave here I will wear my braids.
Forever Nimama I will wear my braids.

* Nimama * Plains Cree for Mom or Mother



#Cree Translation by B. Charles
  Dec 2014 Aaron Mullin
Vanessa Gatley
With your  knife
     You cut me deep
      I was there for you
  SO oh don't say I wasn't
     Now u replaced me
    my heart my spot
       Cried that it will never
    Be the same again
       U should say sorry
   Not me cause u caused pain
    Maybe I do talk about you
    To other people but its because
      You've mad me this way
      Mad about who you have become as
    A person not the same girl I used to
       Think  
      You were the only one i told anything to
      We hugged I hug no one else ever but you
     I'm just surprised and happy that at least
      you still have my journal I got you
        While you write down ur thoughts
          Like I do
  Dec 2014 Aaron Mullin
IrieSide
A never-ending routine; spending our free time masking discontent by cultivating dreams.
Aaron Mullin Dec 2014
Written outside an OXXO*

I took a bite out of a Milky Way last night.

If you're playing god then you have to delve into such tomfoolery...checked Google news...checked NASA websites. No news is good news!

No headlines are good headlines, so I finished it. Tossed the wrapper, was still buzzing from the corn syrup...so I went back in and grabbed a Snickers...the glycemic index is a little different on this one...wonder what Google news will say about this?
OXXO is kinda like a 7-11 only Mexican
  Dec 2014 Aaron Mullin
TigerEyes
The Good American is wearing many shoes
many hats--
while they sing the blues

working tirelessly through the night
in darkened factory's with little light

hoping to live another day
to raise their children safe n' sound
without hate, or -- drugs around

The Good American now works two, or -- three jobs
leaving one at half past six
all their children are home alone
they pray that they don't fall ill, or get sick
their second job they leave at four
before they stumble in the door
their third job is at five
Oh, man they're barely alive
they're blinded by bright sunlight
because they missed it in the night
a repeat of yesterday all over again
they just want their hell to end
The Good American never sleeps
like ants n' bee's or,  tired sheep
they just keep working
to keep working without sleep
they're just trying to stay ahead.
Barely a roof, some food, and -- clothes on their backs
these are the basics that they lack
their own country launching a war on the poor
they're just so tired, and so sore.
The Good American is under U.S. attack
carrying the wealthy on their backs.
© Krisselle S. Cosgrove
  Dec 2014 Aaron Mullin
Gaby Comprés
i was tired,
i was chained,
i was hopeless
and You sang to me,
"you don't have
to carry the world
on your shoulders.
you don't have to
wear those chains.
you can be free.
I already forgave you.
you are blameless."
and as You sang your
song, i realized that i
was the one who
put on myself the
chains i wore.
i didn't have to
carry them, i didn't
have to be a slave
to my chains, to my sin.
i tattooed myself
in shame and i hid my
face from You, not knowing
that all You ever wanted
was to wrap me in your
love and clothe me in grace.
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