Wednesday, July 22, 2009
i have not been attending to this for the past several weeks - it's not that I am no longer interested it's just that I'm going through a very dry time and need to replenish my energy so I can get up and be creative. I will be back soon and will have lots to share for the next several months. I have not done anything but play solitaire and do cross word puzzles. I am trying to read but that doesn't even cause me to be very interested. So I will be back and when I do I will be back with a vengeance with lots to share.
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Poem About the Statue of Liberty
I have issues about certain symbols of American life – they of course represent what I have come to believe after years of thinking about these things. It hasn't just happened over the weekend. They are not posted in an attempt to change anyone's mind but to give people something to think about. Thinking and reaching conclusions is an important part of maturing. So in this vain I am presenting a poem I wrote after thinking about the Statue of Liberty and what she represents.
Ms Liberty
She stands with arms open wide.
Proclaiming liberty & justice
for all who crawl onto these shores.
Ironically I’ve always thought
her back is turned away from us.
Has she ever turned and smiled
allowing us to be encompassed
in her strong arms.
She is a cold iron statue green with age.
She stands at our eastern door
blessing all thieves who enter
A sacred thing brought
to these shores by strangers.
To proclaim freedom and liberty to the world
the rights so clearly denied to the caretakers.
From sea to shining sea blood sacrifice
is laid at her alter - Land of Liberty, Land of Lies
The bounty of each acre has lined their pockets
as they raped each inch.
Killing all life that stood in the way of progress
While there goddess looked the other way.
French woman, french whore
set up as some goddess to rule this land
Who gave you the land to give to a people who
only pillage and plunder.
You've taken from the children of the great
Corn Mother and White Buffalo Woman.
Turn and look at the destruction your-open door policy has
wrecked on this beautiful land.
Mary Lee Johns
Lakota
This is a poem I wrote about the people who Ms. Liberty does not embrase.
Poverty Clutching At You
(In memory of all my uncles who let alcohol rob them of life)
Poverty clutching at you
pulling you into despair
looking at the world
through eyes of hopelessness
Wishing for the old times
knowing dreams
have flown like old torn ribbons
into the icy northern winds
You can still remember
tender childhood moments
from a storehouse
of old memories
Shutting them out
you cringe inside
knowing happiness
is a thing of the past
Your left with the
cold breath of reality
breathing down on you
Sitting you look out
at the streets of mud
your spirit screams
with silent sorrow
While poverty
clutches at your soul
Mary Lee Johns
Lakota
Shadow Land
They are
the grey ghosts
of urban streets and allies
spiritually starved
desperate
passing by unseen
avoiding eyes
hiding within
cement tombs
clutching sweaty
brown paper bags
filled with sweet
poisoned pleasure
shamed and sickened
by an insatiable need
bleary eyes
heads pounding
like drums
pain screaming
like pow-wow singers
guts twisting
like snakes from hell
the past only
a blur of forgotten dreams
today’s battle
is for one last bit of sanity
a world of nightmares
and shadows
an end to a long
endless spiral of pain
mary lee johns
Lakota
The Walking Dead
walking through an indian bar
is like walking through a cemetery
everyone is in some stage of death
Ms Liberty
She stands with arms open wide.
Proclaiming liberty & justice
for all who crawl onto these shores.
Ironically I’ve always thought
her back is turned away from us.
Has she ever turned and smiled
allowing us to be encompassed
in her strong arms.
She is a cold iron statue green with age.
She stands at our eastern door
blessing all thieves who enter
A sacred thing brought
to these shores by strangers.
To proclaim freedom and liberty to the world
the rights so clearly denied to the caretakers.
From sea to shining sea blood sacrifice
is laid at her alter - Land of Liberty, Land of Lies
The bounty of each acre has lined their pockets
as they raped each inch.
Killing all life that stood in the way of progress
While there goddess looked the other way.
French woman, french whore
set up as some goddess to rule this land
Who gave you the land to give to a people who
only pillage and plunder.
You've taken from the children of the great
Corn Mother and White Buffalo Woman.
Turn and look at the destruction your-open door policy has
wrecked on this beautiful land.
Mary Lee Johns
Lakota
This is a poem I wrote about the people who Ms. Liberty does not embrase.
Poverty Clutching At You
(In memory of all my uncles who let alcohol rob them of life)
Poverty clutching at you
pulling you into despair
looking at the world
through eyes of hopelessness
Wishing for the old times
knowing dreams
have flown like old torn ribbons
into the icy northern winds
You can still remember
tender childhood moments
from a storehouse
of old memories
Shutting them out
you cringe inside
knowing happiness
is a thing of the past
Your left with the
cold breath of reality
breathing down on you
Sitting you look out
at the streets of mud
your spirit screams
with silent sorrow
While poverty
clutches at your soul
Mary Lee Johns
Lakota
Shadow Land
They are
the grey ghosts
of urban streets and allies
spiritually starved
desperate
passing by unseen
avoiding eyes
hiding within
cement tombs
clutching sweaty
brown paper bags
filled with sweet
poisoned pleasure
shamed and sickened
by an insatiable need
bleary eyes
heads pounding
like drums
pain screaming
like pow-wow singers
guts twisting
like snakes from hell
the past only
a blur of forgotten dreams
today’s battle
is for one last bit of sanity
a world of nightmares
and shadows
an end to a long
endless spiral of pain
mary lee johns
Lakota
The Walking Dead
walking through an indian bar
is like walking through a cemetery
everyone is in some stage of death
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Poem about the making of a Lakota Dessert
Lakota Dessert
When I was a small child one of the activities the grandchildren who spent their summers with our grandmother at the Poor Buffalo ranch was gathering traditional food. This was then stored for the winter. I attempted to capture this activity in the following poem. I hope you enjoy it.
Wojapi
I
Just like everything else in our world
there are two kinds of Wojapi the
traditional and the modern kind
I’ve made both.
Because I now live in today’s world
of computers, E-mail, FAX machines
and fast cars,
I can’t remember the last time
I’ve even made the modern kind.
I do remember that several years ago
I taught a niece how to make it over
the telephone
it’s real easy all it takes is a can of
blueberry pie filling (my family’s favorite flavor)
some water and cornstarch.
But to make the traditional wojapi
takes planning especially if you want to fix it
when the snow is blowing at sixty miles an hour
and its forty below and you want to prove
how really traditional you are to some
white sociologist who is sitting at your table
all starry eyed looking beyond your head to 1868
trying real hard to experience the “Real Lakota Way”.
You can’t hardly grab a can of blueberry pie filling
and prove your a real Indian by whipping up
a batch of modern wojapi
No way - he won’t fall for the can.
II
To do it right you would have
had to go out in the middle
of a hot sweaty August day
among the flies, grasshoppers
and rattle snakes
and find a black cherry tree.
You would have had
to spend hours straining
your muscles reaching up
and picking the little black berries
that stain your hands and teeth for
days afterwards.
III
Now if you were really going to do it right
so you could recount the tail to your
starry eyed guest you would have taken
along the proper equipment. An old lard pail
(the two quart variety) hanging on a piece of
string to allow you to use both hands.
If you were a good fast strong Lakota women,
in a very short period of time, you would have
picked several cans but if you were like me
it would take you hours.
Hours of sweat running down the pits of your
arms, down your torso, down the backs of
your legs and all across your forehead while
being bit by every blood sucking insect around
for miles.
IV
Having finished the first phase of making
traditional wojapi you would now be ready
to move on to the second phase.
This, of course-- should have been completed
under a shade assembled next to your house
because no self respecting traditional Lakota
home went without an old fashion traditional
shade where all activity was conducted through
the hot summer months -from cooking to sleeping.
The shade was built using young cottonwood trees,
with the first Y’s in their trunks, these held up
cross logs tied tightly together with more branches
added to make a loosely woven roof. On top of all
these strong limbs, willow branches were added
with their leaves in full bloom.
Babies were hung in their cradle boards and
drifted off to sleep to the rustling of those leaves
and all manner of gossip being discussed
to pass away the hours.
V
The tools we used had been handed down
from great, great grandmothers two sets of
beautifully hand-crafted mortar and pestle
made from Black Hills pink quartz. In the
center was a small indent about the size of
a small fist. This is where you would place
the berries and proceed to smash them
seeds and all making a beautiful purple paste.
If you measured just right each handful of
berries smashed would make a small flat patty
when rolled and patted out.
You would then place all of these little patties
on a flat card board and put them out in the
hot sun to dry. They would eventually become
flat little hard disks – easily stored for the winter.
VI
This is what you would bring out to impress
your sociologist guestthat your
“A Real Indian – of the Traditional Variety”
and make the real wojapi.
But if your like all the rest of us who live on
the fast track. You’ll call for a pizza to be
delivered and still make him believe your
traditional while checking your messages
on your cellular phone.
Mary Lee Johns
When I was a small child one of the activities the grandchildren who spent their summers with our grandmother at the Poor Buffalo ranch was gathering traditional food. This was then stored for the winter. I attempted to capture this activity in the following poem. I hope you enjoy it.
Wojapi
I
Just like everything else in our world
there are two kinds of Wojapi the
traditional and the modern kind
I’ve made both.
Because I now live in today’s world
of computers, E-mail, FAX machines
and fast cars,
I can’t remember the last time
I’ve even made the modern kind.
I do remember that several years ago
I taught a niece how to make it over
the telephone
it’s real easy all it takes is a can of
blueberry pie filling (my family’s favorite flavor)
some water and cornstarch.
But to make the traditional wojapi
takes planning especially if you want to fix it
when the snow is blowing at sixty miles an hour
and its forty below and you want to prove
how really traditional you are to some
white sociologist who is sitting at your table
all starry eyed looking beyond your head to 1868
trying real hard to experience the “Real Lakota Way”.
You can’t hardly grab a can of blueberry pie filling
and prove your a real Indian by whipping up
a batch of modern wojapi
No way - he won’t fall for the can.
II
To do it right you would have
had to go out in the middle
of a hot sweaty August day
among the flies, grasshoppers
and rattle snakes
and find a black cherry tree.
You would have had
to spend hours straining
your muscles reaching up
and picking the little black berries
that stain your hands and teeth for
days afterwards.
III
Now if you were really going to do it right
so you could recount the tail to your
starry eyed guest you would have taken
along the proper equipment. An old lard pail
(the two quart variety) hanging on a piece of
string to allow you to use both hands.
If you were a good fast strong Lakota women,
in a very short period of time, you would have
picked several cans but if you were like me
it would take you hours.
Hours of sweat running down the pits of your
arms, down your torso, down the backs of
your legs and all across your forehead while
being bit by every blood sucking insect around
for miles.
IV
Having finished the first phase of making
traditional wojapi you would now be ready
to move on to the second phase.
This, of course-- should have been completed
under a shade assembled next to your house
because no self respecting traditional Lakota
home went without an old fashion traditional
shade where all activity was conducted through
the hot summer months -from cooking to sleeping.
The shade was built using young cottonwood trees,
with the first Y’s in their trunks, these held up
cross logs tied tightly together with more branches
added to make a loosely woven roof. On top of all
these strong limbs, willow branches were added
with their leaves in full bloom.
Babies were hung in their cradle boards and
drifted off to sleep to the rustling of those leaves
and all manner of gossip being discussed
to pass away the hours.
V
The tools we used had been handed down
from great, great grandmothers two sets of
beautifully hand-crafted mortar and pestle
made from Black Hills pink quartz. In the
center was a small indent about the size of
a small fist. This is where you would place
the berries and proceed to smash them
seeds and all making a beautiful purple paste.
If you measured just right each handful of
berries smashed would make a small flat patty
when rolled and patted out.
You would then place all of these little patties
on a flat card board and put them out in the
hot sun to dry. They would eventually become
flat little hard disks – easily stored for the winter.
VI
This is what you would bring out to impress
your sociologist guestthat your
“A Real Indian – of the Traditional Variety”
and make the real wojapi.
But if your like all the rest of us who live on
the fast track. You’ll call for a pizza to be
delivered and still make him believe your
traditional while checking your messages
on your cellular phone.
Mary Lee Johns
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Thoughts on Victory Day
Victory Day
(Little Big Horn - June 25, 1876)
I wrote this several years ago and thought it would be appropriate to post it on this day that the Lakota call Victory Day. It's Victory Day because if we had not been successful there are many of us who would not be here. This includes my family - my great grandmother was a six year old little girl who was watching this battle take place. So for the fact that we are here it is a day to acknowlede as a day of victory for all of us who would not be here without the courage of our warriors.
To All My Friends & Relatives:
On Tuesday - "Victory Day" - I wanted to write to everyone with something to say but was unable to. Nothing profound seeped into my thoughts and I didn't want to bore you with anything that wasn't. You know how that can be - when you try to force yourself into being creative what you get is old warmed over two day or even year old thinking. And of course being the day of remembering the heroic actions of our unci's and lala's of our past I didn't want to write anything that would'nt give them honor - so I stayed quite and thought of them instead.
But today I do have some things I want to share with you. I was reading an article written by a brand new friend, Charles Peek, professor of English at the University of Nebraska - Karney. He writes about the day Crazy Horse was assassinated. He quotes Touch the Cloud and Nebraska State Poet - Bill Kloefkorn. I want to share these with you and some of my thoughts.
Touch the Cloud - remarks after covering the body of Crazy Horse. (Crazy Horse refused to lie down on a cot he chose to lay on the floor - defying the U.S. Government even as he was dying from the fatal wounds inflicted on him by one of his own.)
"That is the lodge of Crazy Horse. Lying where he chose, Crazy Horse showed the rest of us where we are standing."
Bill Kloefkorn, in his poem "Crazy Horse, Final Reflection, Number 7"
It does not matter where his body is,
for there is grass;
but where his spirit is,
there it will be good
for all of us to be.
My thoughts are:
We need to realize that our great leader Crazy Horse did show us not only where we are standing but how to stand. He admonished the weak hearts, the fools, the selfish and any of those who did not think of the people to stay in the rear - he only wanted the Brave Hearts to be in the front to meet the full force of the enemy. If we take his statement and use this as a way of living. We can use this as a standard to measure the men and women who want to lead our people. Are they willing to meet the challenge of today's enemies do they have the skills to be in front with our leaders from the past. My great grandfather, Edward Dupris' Indian name was "Eats No Meat" which meant He made sure everyone was taken care of before he took care of himself - he fed everyone first and if there was no meat left then he ate no meat.
Crazy Horse thought always of the people - he showed us how to stand, he showed us how we are standing. When we think of how we are standing would he want us to be beside him facing our greatest enemy or would he tell us to go to the rear.
Bill Kloefkron's poem is a reflection of the fact that the Spirit of Crazy Horse is still here among us - "but where his spirit is, there it will be good for all of us to be." Could we feel good to be where Crazy Horse's spirit is? Would we feel able to stand without feeling shame?
It is good to be a Lakota, it is good to walk this road but while we are walking we need to ask ourselves are we living the true life of a Lakota. When we pray, or when we speak - is it for the good of our people. The Sundance Prayer "Hecel Oyate Kin Nipi Kte" --- "So that the people may live." - should be one of our guiding principals for our work and our commitment to our people. Sitting Bulls statement "Let us put our minds together to see what life we can make for our children" should be another.
The old Lakota war cry "It is a good day to die" can be used as a third principal. We need to live to the fullest so when we do leave to be with our relatives "who live beyond the ridge" will they welcome us knowing that our lives were lived in a manner that we would not regret or leave things un-tended or that we lived a life creating strife, chaos and disruptions - and instead of love we were jealous hearted and made people feel bad.
We need to be a good relative to each other - but most important we need to be good to our children and our grand children. This does not mean that we let them do anything we need to give them good advise so when they become adults they can take their place as strong Lakota - they are who will lead our people in the future and will Crazy Horse want them beside him or to the rear.
Yes Crazy Horse - showed us where we are standing - and it will be good for us to be where his spirit is.
With wishes for your good health and safety this summer.
Your relative and friend,
Mary Lee
Grows in a Day
(Touch the Cloud was my great grandfather, Matthew Poor Buffalo's first cousin)
(Little Big Horn - June 25, 1876)
I wrote this several years ago and thought it would be appropriate to post it on this day that the Lakota call Victory Day. It's Victory Day because if we had not been successful there are many of us who would not be here. This includes my family - my great grandmother was a six year old little girl who was watching this battle take place. So for the fact that we are here it is a day to acknowlede as a day of victory for all of us who would not be here without the courage of our warriors.
To All My Friends & Relatives:
On Tuesday - "Victory Day" - I wanted to write to everyone with something to say but was unable to. Nothing profound seeped into my thoughts and I didn't want to bore you with anything that wasn't. You know how that can be - when you try to force yourself into being creative what you get is old warmed over two day or even year old thinking. And of course being the day of remembering the heroic actions of our unci's and lala's of our past I didn't want to write anything that would'nt give them honor - so I stayed quite and thought of them instead.
But today I do have some things I want to share with you. I was reading an article written by a brand new friend, Charles Peek, professor of English at the University of Nebraska - Karney. He writes about the day Crazy Horse was assassinated. He quotes Touch the Cloud and Nebraska State Poet - Bill Kloefkorn. I want to share these with you and some of my thoughts.
Touch the Cloud - remarks after covering the body of Crazy Horse. (Crazy Horse refused to lie down on a cot he chose to lay on the floor - defying the U.S. Government even as he was dying from the fatal wounds inflicted on him by one of his own.)
"That is the lodge of Crazy Horse. Lying where he chose, Crazy Horse showed the rest of us where we are standing."
Bill Kloefkorn, in his poem "Crazy Horse, Final Reflection, Number 7"
It does not matter where his body is,
for there is grass;
but where his spirit is,
there it will be good
for all of us to be.
My thoughts are:
We need to realize that our great leader Crazy Horse did show us not only where we are standing but how to stand. He admonished the weak hearts, the fools, the selfish and any of those who did not think of the people to stay in the rear - he only wanted the Brave Hearts to be in the front to meet the full force of the enemy. If we take his statement and use this as a way of living. We can use this as a standard to measure the men and women who want to lead our people. Are they willing to meet the challenge of today's enemies do they have the skills to be in front with our leaders from the past. My great grandfather, Edward Dupris' Indian name was "Eats No Meat" which meant He made sure everyone was taken care of before he took care of himself - he fed everyone first and if there was no meat left then he ate no meat.
Crazy Horse thought always of the people - he showed us how to stand, he showed us how we are standing. When we think of how we are standing would he want us to be beside him facing our greatest enemy or would he tell us to go to the rear.
Bill Kloefkron's poem is a reflection of the fact that the Spirit of Crazy Horse is still here among us - "but where his spirit is, there it will be good for all of us to be." Could we feel good to be where Crazy Horse's spirit is? Would we feel able to stand without feeling shame?
It is good to be a Lakota, it is good to walk this road but while we are walking we need to ask ourselves are we living the true life of a Lakota. When we pray, or when we speak - is it for the good of our people. The Sundance Prayer "Hecel Oyate Kin Nipi Kte" --- "So that the people may live." - should be one of our guiding principals for our work and our commitment to our people. Sitting Bulls statement "Let us put our minds together to see what life we can make for our children" should be another.
The old Lakota war cry "It is a good day to die" can be used as a third principal. We need to live to the fullest so when we do leave to be with our relatives "who live beyond the ridge" will they welcome us knowing that our lives were lived in a manner that we would not regret or leave things un-tended or that we lived a life creating strife, chaos and disruptions - and instead of love we were jealous hearted and made people feel bad.
We need to be a good relative to each other - but most important we need to be good to our children and our grand children. This does not mean that we let them do anything we need to give them good advise so when they become adults they can take their place as strong Lakota - they are who will lead our people in the future and will Crazy Horse want them beside him or to the rear.
Yes Crazy Horse - showed us where we are standing - and it will be good for us to be where his spirit is.
With wishes for your good health and safety this summer.
Your relative and friend,
Mary Lee
Grows in a Day
(Touch the Cloud was my great grandfather, Matthew Poor Buffalo's first cousin)
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