2017

http://www.batteryopera.com/dance-machine/

  Pierce my chest skin

Tie me to you

Central Sun

The cords to you from my

awake pain

Rise like sun rays, Taibossigai

Sun rays through the clouds, connecting me

To your blazing core

 

Feet slide out below me

I slide downwards, downwards

to the tree root

the Mother Ground

I am not a Super Being

Just a child playing treehouse

with new friends.

 

Knotted

There’s so many strings

I can’t untie

The more I untangle

with my worried hands

the more my body

my mind

is wrapped in them

enmeshed

who is undoing who here?

 

Outside

I will pull away

As far away from the pulleys and cords and

silly playfulness

I can pull  so far away from it

And if I let go

I will drift off into the black empty space

untied

No bearings

No connections

Nonexistent

 

Inside, I venture inside

The pipes the lungs surround us

and looking up I see I am become

The inside of a heart

Grotesque, the mess of pink ropes

Veins, arteries

Knotted, twisting,

A fabrication of beautiful Confusion

I belong here

Though impermanent

It feels safe

In the Storyteller’s Dance Machine

 

the model

With a wired-up

presence of mind

she stepped mechanically out

into the world

Her chickenwire frame

creaking uncomforatbly

under her plasticine skin.

If she moved too quickly

the surface would be punctured

the chicken wire might poke through

and her whole exterior

might rip, tear away, fall to pieces

and everyone would be able to see through

the pathetic frame

she thought was her self.

 

SPIRAL POEM on truth & reconciliation

Wonder when I wished that whatever was happening back then would just stopped if it could have just fucking have stopped sooner maybe more would have lived and less pain would weep into today but here this spiral winds its way around our hearts and back out into the wild

 

For without a window of escapism left to me,

I wouldst turn inwards

and open a doorway through which I could walk,

perhaps even run…

But that is not the case.

The window remains.

Compelled, the window always captures my full attention.

Enthralled, bewitched, I sit for hours

motionless

save for my eye movements to the window –

Saved from action.

Saved from inaction,

Saved from my Self

I am become T.V.

THE BAD FIGHT

Loping through the darkening field

The Hurricane Child 

Hearkened to a strange call

From a perch midway up a scraggly oak

She heard a hooting, like an owl

But the gutteral choke at the end of the call

was strange enough to check her stride

and Hurricane Child

That offspring of Heaven and Hell

let loose a torrent of

Winds

to try to unperch the strange-calling bird

To no avail. 

Again came the hoot and death-like

glottal finale

The Hurricane Child 

Betrothed to the Four Directions

Sat down upon her haunches

Right there in the darkening field

of wildflowers and wildfire grasses.

She pondered on the gnarls of branch

limb over limb

The seed hard acorns, little Peter and 

Wendy kisses, protected

even from her most torrential wraths.

But that call, it came again!  

Thrice now it taunted her

an owl at its moment of most

awful unforseen death

An airy haunting call of nature

suddenly strangulated in contempt

of itself.

It must be stopped!  It must be found,

discovered, exposed, then wiped from existence

Never to have been, never remembered

Sent out, like so much dark empty

space between the stars.

Hurricane Child rose up, 

Gathering winds from all her betrothed

a spiraling thundering ever awakening 

offspring of Heaven and Hell

The bark ripped off the branches

the acorns spiraled like bullets

The very tree itself was pulled

into her ever-strengthening vortex

Pulled almost right out of its roots

The leaves flung to netherworlds

and the lump of flesh that

clung to the branch

The middle branch of the 

raped oak tree

Was a human child

Little Sister

long lost little sister

But Hurricne Woman 

Had buit up too much power

She swirled upon forces

within her core

As Little Sister crashed and smashed

amongst the debris

hurtling about

in Hurricane Woman’s 

Messes of Arms and Hatred and Tempests

She sang a little ditty

That made them both laugh

Until all the power had

blown out and flown away

Into the stars and the 

darkness between them. 

 

EARTH CHANGES

WARM IN NOVEMBER

SNOW BECOMES A MEMORY

TROPICAL INFUSION

A CANADIAN DISASTER

CHANGES

WHIRL A TURN

DANCE IN STEP

SHE’S STILL OUR MOTHER

—-

LITTLE CHILDREN

LET ME BREATHE

AND SHUDDER

FRIGHTENING CHILDREN

YOUR STUPIDITY CATCHES YOU

AND DANCES YOU

LIKE MARIONETTES

LET ME SHAKE YOU

AND CUT THE STRINGS

SO THAT YOU FALL

OR LEARN TO STAND

ON YOUR OWN WISDOM

WITHOUT STUPIDITY

AS YOUR MASTER

 

Poem for Paul Salanki & Heather Thoma  

Mnidoo Mnissing.  Manitoulin Island.

How much water
how many winds
can one rock ingest, imbibe, imbue, inspire
Great Spirit Gchi Mnidoo chose to rest here
the sweetest Waters
The sweetest Winds
all of the plant medicines gathered in this place

Oh, the tall dry scrubland grasses
a wind sweeps down the channel and sets you whispering
The land is Rocky
the soil is thin
the trees medium, no more
life can be harsh here, but never hard
for every rustling Wind Through the Treetops
every step in the garden
every Sparkle on the wave tops, a multitude of diamonds
every gentle smile from friend or stranger
every wave from a passing car
deer ears high in a farmer’s field
clutch of little birds
every flash of lake trout salmon pike
All these tell us one simple truth:
simple simple simple, life is simple
simple thoughts, simple loves.
And those heady summer days
The green almost tropical
We lay back on that lush carpet of wealth
Hear the Anishnaabe whispers
Mnidoons, there’s a little spirit over there
Walk in the garden
There’s a spirit over there
Walk in the bush, mossy limestone shelves
Mnidoons, little spirit. You live here.
And that one unique smell
No other place will approximate it
We know it
Lichen on limestone and yellowing grass, warming in the sun
A shade of sweetgrass for good measure
Easy the mind, peaceful the heart
A strum on our soulstrings

Greatest Spirit
Chi Mnidoo
Miigwech, thank you

 

 

22 Hutchinson Road

Am I hidden?

Have I hidden myself?

Or has someone else

Caused me to be hidden?

I do not know.

Nor do I know why

I am hidden…

Except that

perhaps I hid myself

Because this world

is too messy and painful

and I want to hide from that.

I have surrounded myself

with only

the pure and beautiful

and yet

I recoil ever further

emotionally away

even from family

I wish to stay hidden

and

I wish to be KNOWN

By all the world

Both paths are glowing

Yet also make me afraid

FEAR NOT, BRIGHT FLAME, STAR-BORN

SEEK YE EVER THE LIGHT

OF THE UNIVERSAL FLAME THAT IS WORDS PUT TO GOOD USE

 

UNTITLED

If the Universe mistakes me for someone else,

will I be forgotten?

If someone else mistakes me for the Universe,

will I even still be here?

If I mistake myself for a wandering fool,

will I ever be remembered?

And if I remember myself for your lover,

will I ever get to come home?

FOR AN OLD LOVER

  Pleasure to be near you

and your sorrow seeping kiss.

Pleasure to be with you

and  your heart a nearest miss.

Pleasure to think past you

when our love’s last heartbeat gone.

Pleasure to be past you

and the curtain finally drawn.

 

EVOLUTION

We are all on escalators

That go up and donw

Our souls a constant

chemical reactionL

for better or worse

a pendulum swinging

sometimes to extremes

Sometimes stagnant

stationary

But if you’re crying

or angry

or hot or desperate

or lonely or afraid

Then you’re on the

evolutionary escalators

of the soul.

 

Little Kingdoms

Tiny queens

Shot through the middle

of In Between

The world of Ought To

and Having It All

Wanting respect

Not fearing a fall

From Grace, for there is none

Save the peace we give ourselves

So I love this tiny kingdom

I am the most proud

Tiny Queen

Oceans of night

Dark teeming abyss

Primordial Soup

LifeGiver’s bliss

Echoing Whale Song

Effervescent Squid

Fish Clouds of Friendship

We lived there, we did.

 

Oceans of darkness

A night full of life

Bursting with somethings

The Universe’s wife

 

Mile high kelp forest

Mammoth of the deep

Players and Killers

You all make me weep

 

Oceans! Stay healthy!

Oceans! Be Strong

Your Power is our birthright

Yet we still do you wrong.

 

Transmute the poisons

We rain down your shore

Be life-giving Mother

Be Plenty once more.