New Native Nation Spudmama's Poetry

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Poetry by Spudmama

(or, as commonly misspelled, Nunya Ageya)

Fireflies On Summer Nights  
by Nunyageya

brightflashing pinpoints,    
stars fallen low,    
sparkling lights flying 'round,   
glowing eyes that blink at twilight,   
twinkles alive,   
dancing sunlets ablaze;   





by Nunyageya

I remember the old days.     

You, my kuda, my friend, gave me a basket made of sweet grass. I smelled the fresh scent of it. Wie hotan, I am happy! And I smiled as you told me of the special place where the sweet grass grew.    

But I've forgotten who you were.    

I remember the old days.   

It was sni wate, winter, and my hands hid in my robes from the bite of the cold air. My breath froze on the furs around my face. The puite, the snow, lay in deep drifts against the trees I walked under. Great silence surrounded me.   

But I've forgotten where I was going.   

I remember the old days.   

I kneeled in the mahin, the grass, and scraped, scraped the fat off the hide. My fingers tugged at the membrane that stubbornly clung to the skin and I stroked the wet fur at the edges. The shunke, the dogs, quarreled over the scraps I threw them.     

But I've forgotten what I made from it.     

Ah, I remember the old days,    

The days long before I was born.    

Four Dreams  
by Nunyageya

I had a dream.
The sun, the moon, the stars, and the earth
Danced in a circle in the night.
From the center of the circle came
Bright flashes of darkness, pulsating nothingness.

I had a second dream.
The earth, the sun, the moon, and the stars
Danced in a circle in the sky.
From the center of the circle came
A smiling woman, clothed in fire,

I had a third dream.
The stars, the earth, the sun, and the moon
Danced in a circle in the dark.
From the center of the circle came
The shimmering, dancing woman.
Singing silently, she touched me.

I had a fourth dream.
The moon, the stars, the earth, and the sun
Danced in a circle in the cosmos.
From the center of the circle came
The fire that does not burn, the mystery in the night,
The dancing light, the shining woman,
And myself.

I had no more dreams
Of the sun, the moon, the stars, and the earth
Dancing in their midnight circle.
From the center of the circle had come
My name,
Mystery Night Woman, Northern Lights Woman.
I had dreampt it, four times I dreampt it.
It was mine.

Time-warp Mountain Man  
by Nunyageya

He wears
a Puma tee-shirt
but if I close my eyes
and hug him
I smell smoke in weathered buckskin.

He drives
a truck for money
but when he nears the woods
and enters
he walks ancient virgin forests.

He buys
meat at the market
but when the white tails rut
and fatten
he packs gun and worships hunting.

He lives
in modern ages
but only bodily
for his soul
comes from other, older eras.

Black Rock  
by Nunyageya

I found the twisted log that took
all night to burn, Grandfather.
I found the magic glade that took
me back in time, Grandfather.

I did not see you standing on
the mountainside, Grandfather;
I saw the dreams you sent me,
Black Rock,
ancient one.

You sent a vision that I did
not understand, Grandfather.
I saw you sitting in the trees
atop the ridge, Grandfather.

Four times I saw the lightning flash
behind your face, Grandfather.
I did not recognise you,
Black Rock,
ancient one.

Owl Woman, Bear Wakes Up, and I
had traveled far, Grandfather.
The children ran to play while we
prepared our lodge, Grandfather.

When Bear Wakes Up arose and saw
you waiting, there, Grandfather;
then I looked up and knew you,
Black Rock,
ancient one.

by Nunyageya

under this grass,
I will soon release my mind
to travel where it must,
when, soaring,
I revisit the Earth-mother.

under these roots,
I will go when my heart walks
the path of sacred smoke,
when, wondering,
I revisit the Earth-mother.

under this earth,
I will learn the Earthdream song
I dance to all my life,
when, singing,
I revisit the Earth-mother.

under these stones,
I will find the center of
the circle my soul walks,
when, living,
I revisit the Earth-mother.

Over Under  
by Nunyageya

Sky in a puddle,     
clouds pile up lowly,    
birds fly upside downly,    
sun shines beneathly   
your feet.   












Waiting for the Moon  
by Nunyageya

Sitting within the stone circle,
amongst a sisterhood,
listening beyond the rush of blood in our ears
for the old stories whispered in the wind of nights,
that dies short of us in wait,
waiting for the moon,

singing soft sounds of sacredness,
within our sisterhood,
piercing us with wordless songs through heart and heart
like string in beads that make holy pattern beneath
ancient earth too dark to see,
waiting for the moon,

summoning visions in our minds,
inside the sisterhood,
rousing glowing tidal earthen memories
to dance in darkness from each to each of us and
set free our woman's powers,
waiting for the moon.

Another Poem by Spudmama, ("At Chasm's Edge" by Shelley Smith)
is in Rooted Like the Ash Trees: New England Indians and the Land
for sale at Coyote Press (Spudmama recieves no royalties from the sale of this book)
New poetry by Spudmama ("On The Wind", "You Shine" and "My Child, My Heart"
by Nunyageya) may be found in the
Ecards section at Nativelandz Web Rez
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Text and graphics by Nunyageya copyright 2006, 2007