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Arden Sep 23
Let's make one thing clear
The future is not female
The future is
Nonbinary it's
Genderfluid it's
Queer it's
Trans it's
Natives it's
*** workers, it's
***, it's
Bi, it's
Pan, it's
Ace it's
People of color it's
People with disabilities
THE FUTURE IS INTERSECTIONAL
Lilli Sutton May 9
Maybe I wrote too much about it
and that’s why I can’t ever forget now.
I looked back at old pictures yesterday
and noticed that she squints her eyes in pictures
the same way I do. Like we both want
to shut out the world when we smile,
close our eyes to seal in that happiness of a moment.

I believe that some of our parts
were probably made of the same substance,
or at least at the same time.

Sometimes I feel like a seagull
in a shopping center parking lot –
so far from the place I was made to inhabit.
They gather in droves and shriek
and it sounds so loud
without the ocean waves to drown their voices.
Maybe I’m just too noisy for West Virginia
and one day I’ll be somewhere that makes sense –
where I’m the right volume, like starlings
in Europe, like kudzu in Japan.
04.29.19
Pagan Paul Jan 29
.
On the old porch outside her room
she sits a'spinning on her loom,
weaving memories of times long gone,
gently singing a Native song.
Of rivers running on the plains
swollen from the mountain rains,
of the deserts endless sands,
and of toil with calloused hands.
She sang of buffalo and of bear,
of a paradise for all to share,
she also sang of the forests deep
and of where wolves go to sleep.
Her song dies away like a friend
when her spinning is at its end.
The Great Mother retires in silent gloom
and snuffs out the candles in her room.
Thus stilling the night of a Woman's Moon.



© Pagan Paul (28/01/19)
.
Kore Jan 24
you
     non-
colonizer

friend, companion, self-intellectualizing

non-
      colonizing
colonizer

who loves, cares, hurts
              [ me ]

lays an offering
of violence
                  at
                     my
                         feet

non-
     colonizing
colonizer

this is how you love
           [ me ]
my friend hit me up just to show me the nathan phillips video (the first one, not his interview from today) because i'm the only native person he knows and didn't take into account the fact that all i've seen is this ******* video and it hurt me because he wanted my point of view as an indigenous person but just would not listen to me without arguing that the white kids could have maybe been in the right
Kore Nov 2018
redskin redskin redskin redskin redskin redskin redskin redskin
redskin redskindian        indian  redskin redskin redskin redskin
worthlessredskinscalpingbitchfeatherordot redredredred indian
redskin redskin redskin redskin redskin redskin redskin redskin
Kore Nov 2018
it's easy
forgetting
You.
     the hatred
of Me.

until I cease
          to blend
in

and what has
        been lying
in wait
           emerges
Ken Pepiton Nov 2018
so. so rare. such as you who seek some thing everyone knows
so you may share it with those infected with denial.

---

I'll be the fool who risks belief and go on with the story flowing from my belly
before
my very augmented eyes

Wisdom is justified of her children,
said a nubian wizard
named John Joyce.
No relation to James.

Same general era, I met Adam Funmaker. He showed me
an article in Rolling Stone that mentioned me
June 7, 1973, idea of me, not me,
actually,

that was me. the guy with ears that weren't garbage cans,
which had been the liturgical reply to
words deemed too filthy to say or hear,

To this day I don't care for the taste.

This story fiber began with Adam Funmaker being real, and my feeling many folk would never allow a man with such a name to have been,

much less to have been, my friend. who made my silver wedding ring.

A real man, father of many sons and daughters, still
with us
to this day,
This telling
dedicated in my lodge, my strong tower, my kiva,

To Adam Funmaker, I fan this cloud, be magnified magi.
From my desert you blessed with more than water.

A humbler man I've never met. A scrimshaw artist of great renown among collectors of such, for his technique.
It seemed magic, the photo-realism
he could attain to,
pins and hand and ink and string and light, his only tools,

the light was modified to meet the needs of Adam's ageing eyes
He was sixty-two when I thought with him last,

and sixty-two was older then than now,
he used to ask me questions I had not asked myself.

I only knew him for the space
of a tick
with point of pin pricking
ivory,  ttttttttttttt ttttt ttt ttttttt tttt far more
than 300 dpi,
But magic was not allowed to be the reason for
the power of reality in his work.

How do you do this? I asked, from a state of ad-mire

Opaque projector.

Ah, secret, he coulda kept it and been thought
amazing, sender of men in search of hows
denied whys, but he didn't

he told me the trick, as if his hand and eye and mind
were taken for granted, acknowledged by being

right used before my unaugmented eyes.

His gift he had received and owned,
not a thing to boast about, like a boy.

He was looking at me, something I remember
this way, a point, a reflection in the eye
that made images of the ideas of men
past
seem in the wind I go on to claim as my inheritance.
That's the scene from here, much was different,
most likely.

Adam Funmaker's clansmen from the past
breathed, nearly, their blessing, the hope

on ivory etched so nearly fractally real you can see
a reflection in Sitting Bull's eye staring

at a 440 stainless steel, razor-edged blade, never used.

A knife made for the image on the handle,
A magic Adam Funmaker portrait of a noble illiterate
chief among noble illiterates whose stories
have been told ten thousand years.

The Greeks fears were warranted.
Writing did shorten memories.
But it gave stories freedom to wend and find points

upon which they be told, to this day,
for no real reason, same as sunsets and beauty in general.

the knife I was looking at is depicted on the web
https://www.worthpoint.com/worthopedia/adam-funmaker-scrimshaw-native-1835351935
My wife still has her wedding ring, I lost mine,
in the desert or the storm or the fire, I can't remember losing it.
I never wrote an ode. This feels like how they may have wonce been taught when memories were the realm of story and songs
Kore Nov 2018
if i hear
one more
white-pink
no-chin
speak the word

                          I n d i a n

I will
scalp
                         Them
"I'm only saying it because that's what the text says" my ***
AD Mullin Aug 2018
/                        been                       \
/                      thoughts                    \
|                           my                           |
|                         have                          |
|                  LANGUAGE                  |
|                           my                           |
|                            by                            |
|                 INFLUENCED                 |
|                              is                             |
|                            feel                            |
|                              or                              |
|                              do                              |
|                              or                              |
|                            want                            |
|                              or                              |
|                              say                             |
|                                i                                |
|                             that                             |
/                     EVERYTHING                     \
/                                   if                                   \

                  
^                                   ^                                ^
^                                   ^                                ^
^                                   ^                                ^
| language instructs | the way we think |
^                                   ^                          ­      ^
^                                   ^                                ^
^                                   ^                          ­      ^
TED Says: https://bit.ly/2LW2vPX

Can you un-bundle this poem?
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