Tuesday, October 13, 2026

A Black Man Talks of Reaping



By Arna Bontemps


I have sown beside all waters in my day.

I planted deep, within my heart the fear

that wind or fowl would take the grain away.

I planted safe against this stark, lean year.


I scattered seed enough to plant the land

in rows from Canada to Mexico

but for my reaping only what the hand

can hold at once is all that I can show.


Yet what I sowed and what the orchard yields

my brother's sons are gathering stalk and root;

small wonder then my children glean in fields

they have not sown, and feed on bitter fruit.


We acknowledge ourselves


BY Aisa Warden


before we bring this meeting to order

we want to acknowledge ourselves, the Kaktoviġmiut

yes, Siliun, this is how they are doing things nowadays

                  we are doing it right


                     we acknowledge ourselves, the Kaktoviġmiut

  we are the people of this island and of the mountains and lands around us

                           and all our traditional hunting areas


                                                                                                       since before the military came

                                                                      and bulldozed our old sod houses our entire village

                                               so they could make a runway and yes we are still angry about that

                                                                  and we are still wanting reparations for what they did

                                                                               they finally did take that hangar down and it


looks better without that big old thing on there

and I know we are still looking for

                       what was lost in the nuna on that day

                                                                                        what they did was wrong


and we are still here


                       and even though the military still today has that huge other hangar

                                                                                                      on the other side with that

                                                                                                                             military man

                                                                                                   who lives in there that we have

                                                                                                                                      never met

                                                               and the other that relieves him every three weeks or so  


we were here before


they put those big humongous radar ears up       


and then took them down   


and yes they left many barrels and still never got all of them



we all want all their residue

               to be

    off our island forever


                                                     we were here before

                              the government started drawing arbitrary lines

                                        encasing us into this wildlife refuge

                                      without our full knowledge or consent


where strangers break into our cabins on our own land

                                                     up in the mountains each and every year

                       no matter how many signs we put or what kind of locks we use

         and because of these borders not our own

                                          we cannot hunt the way

                                                      our relatives in other

                                                                                     villages hunt


we have more restrictions and regulations than the others

                          yet we still are able to get the food we need

                                               around the land we care for and know


ii, we are still fighting these arbitrary borders and lines today, thank you Ekowan

and also thank you aŋaaluk for those letters you put out

                                                                               they needed to see that


and all of us fighting for our ways of life and as we continue to fight

even in this strange language

we had to learn to fight them with

                                                        arii, piliaqsuŋa taniktun uqaġama


we acknowledge our Elders that are still on this land

and our Ancestors                               buried just over there and over there too


                                       and our own people who are still living here

                                          especially the little ones like Uqumaiḷaq here

                                                         and all our future relatives yet to be born


we acknowledge and remember

           that the military did experiments without our consent

                      on our Elders when they were kids

                               and the government has never owned up to these injustices


but we remember what was done


and yes some Elders did get compensated for that radioactive iodine they put in their veins

                                                                  yet not for the other forced experiments


and we remember how we were also made to send our young people away

to go to school

         and how they came back

                   having to relearn their own language

                              and many of them left right away again


                                                               yet many stayed home

                                                                      and the others always return

                                                                                       and belong home here


we the Kaktoviġmiut remember how we have always been whole


                                              nakuurugut

                                     we are good we have always been good

                       living here in the ways taught to us by our Elders

                                                                                 and our Elders’ Elders’ Elders


and even though there were two waves of diseases that we didn’t know

                         how to fight

                                  naturally

                           we lost many of our people

                                 yet many of us survived

                                           those waves


and since we are talking about these things in a community hall meeting

                     might as well mention the alcohol that came to kill us

                        and the cancers that we can guess where those came from too

                            and the fog of smoke and qaaq that has stayed and lingered


and I know that we aren’t used to acknowledging ourselves

            but when me and Fannie went to the big meeting in Anchorage

                                                                           they did one of these


                                                 land acknowledgments

                                so apparently everyone is starting to remember


and we remember too

         how to acknowledge one another

                and how we remember our relatives and how we are related

                   we remember how to sing and dance and how to take care of

                      the land


because we need to acknowledge our young people too

        even the ones who are pretending they don’t understand

                                                                       or can’t talk yet

                                                                            we know you are paying attention


yet we also want to say the young ones have also been having a lack of

   listening

                             and they need to fix that right now


oh and of course

our relationship to the animals

           the aġviq, the tuttu, the fish, the nanuk, the qavvik

                           oh yes and the aiviq and the beluga whale

                                 and I know I am forgetting some animals thank you Ukpik


     and we were here before the tourists started to travel here to see our

       polar bears

                                                                    without giving back to our community

                                        and yes we are starting to regulate those tourists too

                            as a community

                    working together


yes the amaġuq and I know we have too many animals to mention right now

       and we need to get started with these door prizes soon

                   yet let me say one more time

                            because I see that Michael just came in the door


                          we the Kaktoviġmiut acknowledge ourselves

                                     sovereign here on our own land

                                        sovereign here forevermore


                                                                       despite all of these other ways

                                            in which they thought they could make us forget

                                                                       or think we were broken


              we are whole and good and we remember all of it

                                                                       an unbroken line

                                                                             going all the way

                                                                                         all the way

                                                                                             all the way

                                                                                                           back


from the time before the time before

                                                            nakuurugut

            we are the Kaktoviġmiut, the original people of this place

            we have never ceded our lands

            we always remember our long long long ago ways


that we are living even today and even though we are thankful for many

    modern tools

that we put to use in the ways that our Elders agree with

the outsiders’ ways are not our ways

we belong here

              and on our mountains and all the places near that we travel for food

                                                                                                   and on the ocean


            we remember who we are


            today and forevermore

            we acknowledge ourselves

            in our power as Iñupiaq

                          aulayaiqsimarugut Kaktoviġmiut

                                                            tavra!


now Alasuuraq will draw the first prize because I believe he is our oldest

    Elder here

   we will draw a couple few more door prizes

                                                        now at the start

                             and then the rest at the end of the meeting

                                  I know we have a lot to talk about

Due to Popular Demand, I Am Coming Out



BY Despy Boutris

Call me rug-muncher, bush-bumper,
gash-guzzler & gal-pal. Call me
pussy-pirate & turf-taster, scissor-sister
& shrub-scout, lickalotapus
& an antisemenist headed for Brokeback
Valley. Call me twat-tiddler, cat-licker,
trout-sniffer, vagitarian, Ellen
Degenerate, cooch-comrade, clam-
jammer & fur-trader, fuzz-bumper
& not welcome in the red states. Call me
& ask how I am in French. Lès bien.
Call me dykedelic & dykotic,
suppresbian & succesbian. Say
I have my lick-her license, a nut allergy,
a degree in lesbiology. Call me
& ask if I speak Straponese. Call me
oyster-diver, Teva-wearer, bean-flicker
& donut-digger, taco-eater & coochie-
cruncher. Call me bush-lover,
a celesbian, your dykon, a U-Hauler,
your next-door gaybor, a nail-clipper,
a cunt-hopper & crotch-cannibal. Call me
before my poetry reading to wish me luck.
Call me mound-pounder, cocktose
intolerant, a clit-queen, a good fuck.

Friday, October 9, 2026

Berryman



BY W. S. Merwin


I will tell you what he told me

in the years just after the war

as we then called

the second world war

 

don't lose your arrogance yet he said

you can do that when you're older

lose it too soon and you may

merely replace it with vanity

 

just one time he suggested

changing the usual order

of the same words in a line of verse

why point out a thing twice

 

he suggested I pray to the Muse

get down on my knees and pray

right there in the corner and he

said he meant it literally

 

it was in the days before the beard

and the drink but he was deep

in tides of his own through which he sailed

chin sideways and head tilted like a tacking sloop

 

he was far older than the dates allowed for

much older than I was he was in his thirties

he snapped down his nose with an accent

I think he had affected in England

 

as for publishing he advised me

to paper my wall with rejection slips

his lips and the bones of his long fingers trembled

with the vehemence of his views about poetry

 

he said the great presence

that permitted everything and transmuted it

in poetry was passion

passion was genius and he praised movement and invention

 

I had hardly begun to read

I asked how can you ever be sure

that what you write is really

any good at all and he said you can't

 

you can't you can never be sure

you die without knowing

whether anything you wrote was any good

if you have to be sure don't write

Legacy



BY Amiri Baraka

(For Blues People)

In the south, sleeping against
the drugstore, growling under   
the trucks and stoves, stumbling   
through and over the cluttered eyes   
of early mysterious night. Frowning   
drunk waving moving a hand or lash.   
Dancing kneeling reaching out, letting   
a hand rest in shadows. Squatting   
to drink or pee. Stretching to climb   
pulling themselves onto horses near   
where there was sea (the old songs   
lead you to believe). Riding out   
from this town, to another, where   
it is also black. Down a road
where people are asleep. Towards   
the moon or the shadows of houses.   
Towards the songs’ pretended sea.

Thursday, October 8, 2026

History



Linda Hogan

This is the word that is always bleeding.
You didn't think this
until your country changes and when it thunders
you search your own body
for a missing hand or leg.
In one country, there are no bodies shown,
lies are told
and they keep hidden the weeping children on dusty streets.

But I do remember once
a woman and a child in beautiful blue clothing
walking over a dune, spreading a green cloth,
drinking nectar with mint and laughing
beneath a sky of clouds from the river
near the true garden of Eden.
Now another country is breaking
this holy vessel
where stone has old stories
and the fire creates clarity in the eyes of a child
who will turn it to hate one day.

We are so used to it now,
this country where we do not love enough,
that country where they do not love enough,
and that.

We do not need a god by any name
nor do we need to fall to our knees or cover ourselves,
enter a church or a river,
only do we need to remember what we do
to one another, it is so fierce
what any of our fathers may do to a child
what any of our brothers or sisters do to nonbelievers,
how we try to discover who is guilty
by becoming guilty,
because history has continued
to open the veins of the world
more and more
always in its search
for something gold.

An American Sunrise



Joy Harjo

1951 –

We were running out of breath, as we ran out to meet ourselves. We
Were surfacing the edge of our ancestors’ fights, and ready to Strike.
It was difficult to lose days in the Indian bar if you were Straight.
Easy if you played pool and drank to remember to forget. We
Made plans to be professional—and did. And some of us could Sing
When we drove to the edge of the mountains, with a drum. We
Made sense of our beautiful crazed lives under the starry stars. Sin
Was invented by the Christians, as was the Devil, we sang. We
Were the heathens, but needed to be saved from them: Thin
Chance. We knew we were all related in this story, a little Gin
Will clarify the dark, and make us all feel like dancing. We
Had something to do with the origins of blues and jazz
I argued with the music as I filled the jukebox with dimes in June,

Forty years later and we still want justice. We are still America. We.


RANDOM ACTS OF POETRY DAY



"Imagine turning a corner on your daily walk and finding a haiku chalked on the sidewalk, or discovering a short verse tucked into a library book."

https://nationaldaycalendar.com/celebrations/random-acts-of-poetry-day-first-wednesday-of-october