"husking" poems - Hello Poetry

Sacagawea's Capture As I strolled the Knife River trail a dust cloud swirled and fell and earth lodges appeared by the score extending from the path to the river banks. Hidatsa women sang at their chores, husking corn - beading moccasins - scraping a buffalo hide. A band of hunters dismounted and released their ropes - dropping two deer and an elk by the hanging rack. Triumphal shouts from the river turned all heads to the shore where warriors, returned from Shoshone fields, lashed up canoes and dragged their human spoils up the rise. Several squaws reached out from the gathering crowd seizing two of the squirming children. A Shoshone girl with terror in her eyes cringed as a warrior raised his arm. "No, tell your Hidatsa name!" Sobbing she choked through broken tears, "My name is Sacagawea." I bolted to breach the walls of time to face death in her defense but a new whirling cloud intervened. When the dust fell away all the lodges had vanished with all the Hidatsa villagers. Kneeling down to the Dakota grass, I caressed a circular hollow etched deeply in the silent earth.   August 6, 2010

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Aug 3, 2013

Aug 3, 2013 at 5:28 AM UTC

robert-c-howard

Terror in her Eyes

Sacagawea's Capture As I strolled the Knife River trail a dust cloud swirled and fell and earth lodges appeared by the score extending from the path to the river banks. Hidatsa women sang at their chores, husking corn - beading moccasins - scraping a buffalo hide. A band of hunters dismounted and released their ropes - dropping two deer and an elk by the hanging rack. Triumphal shouts from the river turned all heads to the shore where warriors, returned from Shoshone fields, lashed up canoes and dragged their human spoils up the rise. Several squaws reached out from the gathering crowd seizing two of the squirming children. A Shoshone girl with terror in her eyes cringed as a warrior raised his arm. "No, tell your Hidatsa name!" Sobbing she choked through broken tears, "My name is Sacagawea." I bolted to breach the walls of time to face death in her defense but a new whirling cloud intervened. When the dust fell away all the lodges had vanished with all the Hidatsa villagers. Kneeling down to the Dakota grass, I caressed a circular hollow etched deeply in the silent earth.   August 6, 2010

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I bought a real nutcracker today. A fine shiny black truly cool looking one! Each crack compliments to a dandy vintage lad's imaginary home TV shopper Ad. Saying‘It's guaranteed! Hundred percent of mechanosensory reception!’ I try to convince myself between time stretching ‘Yes or No’s and ‘Just use stones’ ‘Come on you've deserved it!’ ‘Why bother?’ You have been craving for each Tried and tested any, same as so many even from a hard peach. So why not!? Keep it! – as if a testimony, from tough to juicy mimicking fruity blending **** seduced by crunchy mouth twisting ***** Digested from special yearly events to monthly justifications then weekly to daily and surprisingly after dinner, before breakfast, as brunch or even a whole meal sometimes. You gnaw like a small rodent layer by layer cute but so tight although he says that’s alright. Dashing trunks as if a woodpecker, Stealing home reserved only-for-the-pet’s crumbs and Finally receiving next day’s well deserved belly cramps. Come on you almost broke your teeth during your worldwide exploring different types of shell husking trip. Feel blessed now one time for goddess’ sake that she winks and tweaks my lips while it creaks, festively announces your recent find that nuts you shall eat raw only - neither baked nor from a sinfully roasted ready packed plastic bag.

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Oct 19, 2014

Oct 19, 2014 at 8:56 AM UTC

dnalumuland

A NUTCRACKER AD

I bought a real nutcracker today. A fine shiny black truly cool looking one! Each crack compliments to a dandy vintage lad's imaginary home TV shopper Ad. Saying‘It's guaranteed! Hundred percent of mechanosensory reception!’ I try to convince myself between time stretching ‘Yes or No’s and ‘Just use stones’ ‘Come on you've deserved it!’ ‘Why bother?’ You have been craving for each Tried and tested any, same as so many even from a hard peach. So why not!? Keep it! – as if a testimony, from tough to juicy mimicking fruity blending **** seduced by crunchy mouth twisting ***** Digested from special yearly events to monthly justifications then weekly to daily and surprisingly after dinner, before breakfast, as brunch or even a whole meal sometimes. You gnaw like a small rodent layer by layer cute but so tight although he says that’s alright. Dashing trunks as if a woodpecker, Stealing home reserved only-for-the-pet’s crumbs and Finally receiving next day’s well deserved belly cramps. Come on you almost broke your teeth during your worldwide exploring different types of shell husking trip. Feel blessed now one time for goddess’ sake that she winks and tweaks my lips while it creaks, festively announces your recent find that nuts you shall eat raw only - neither baked nor from a sinfully roasted ready packed plastic bag.

20

The day I found the inside of me with the crust of eggshell still atop her head she emerged, already speaking the truth as I had never known it. Already husking away the lies of the self which had held me into hopelessness she emerged. She spoke to my own glistening eyes before me, she said, "This is the condition, my dear (my one true love) (my only source of god) that envelops creation and stretches back into the yawning mouth of the first atom it is to be alone. To die and birth alone to cry and rage alone against the bind of all things that makes you what you are and what you are not. When you feel it deep in your belly clawing at the make of matter, know that we all claw, we all throw ourselves against the high ceilings of our skulls and strive to find another home. But I am with you, cradling the wound, healing it with slow, careful kisses of the self. I am with you, I am the oval that surrounds your heart the Eye within. I am the last left when you seek all source of comfort. You can hide in me." And with that, she returned home settling into the crescent in my center. Gone to the eyes, but still in every bone she speaks, she whispers, *You are not alone as I am here.*

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Apr 26, 2013

Apr 26, 2013 at 12:13 AM UTC

kendra-r

First Epiphany

The day I found the inside of me with the crust of eggshell still atop her head she emerged, already speaking the truth as I had never known it. Already husking away the lies of the self which had held me into hopelessness she emerged. She spoke to my own glistening eyes before me, she said, "This is the condition, my dear (my one true love) (my only source of god) that envelops creation and stretches back into the yawning mouth of the first atom it is to be alone. To die and birth alone to cry and rage alone against the bind of all things that makes you what you are and what you are not. When you feel it deep in your belly clawing at the make of matter, know that we all claw, we all throw ourselves against the high ceilings of our skulls and strive to find another home. But I am with you, cradling the wound, healing it with slow, careful kisses of the self. I am with you, I am the oval that surrounds your heart the Eye within. I am the last left when you seek all source of comfort. You can hide in me." And with that, she returned home settling into the crescent in my center. Gone to the eyes, but still in every bone she speaks, she whispers, *You are not alone as I am here.*

38

Ice I have been stranded alone on an icy barren desert isolated from society. I sometimes listen to the husking wind, and the occasional crashes from the ice breaking. I haven’t felt warmth from the protecting sun to cover my eyes and take me away from this slow and painful icy death. Sometimes I wish someone would find me and take me out of this prison. I wish someone cared enough to look for me in this thick layer of snow. All I do is lay out in the open, calling for help. But no one comes. When I feel the frost cover more of my body, and I can feel less and less each day. I close my eyes and wait for my glacial death.

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Nov 25, 2019

Nov 25, 2019 at 1:41 PM UTC

WorldOfPoems

Ice

Ice I have been stranded alone on an icy barren desert isolated from society. I sometimes listen to the husking wind, and the occasional crashes from the ice breaking. I haven’t felt warmth from the protecting sun to cover my eyes and take me away from this slow and painful icy death. Sometimes I wish someone would find me and take me out of this prison. I wish someone cared enough to look for me in this thick layer of snow. All I do is lay out in the open, calling for help. But no one comes. When I feel the frost cover more of my body, and I can feel less and less each day. I close my eyes and wait for my glacial death.

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