Poetry Platform - the largest database of poetry, save it to read later!

Poems

38 Read Poem

Here, the sentence will be respected.

I will compose each sentence with care, by minding what the rules of writing dictate.

For example, all sentences will begin with capital letters.

Likewise, the history of the sentence will be honored by ending each one with appropriate punctuation such as a period or question mark, thus bringing the idea to (momentary) completion.

You may like to know, I do not consider this a “creative piece.

”

I do not regard this as a poem of great imagination or a work of fiction.

Also, historical events will not be dramatized for an “interesting” read.

Therefore, I feel most responsible to the orderly sentence; conveyor of thought.

That said, I will begin.

You may or may not have heard about the Dakota 38.

If this is the first time you’ve heard of it, you might wonder, “What is the Dakota 38?

”

The Dakota 38 refers to thirty eight Dakota men who were executed by hanging, under orders from President Abraham Lincoln.

To date, this is the largest “legal” mass execution in US history.

The hanging took place on December 26, 1862—the day after Christmas.

This was thesame weekthat President Lincoln signed the Emancipation Proclamation.

In the preceding sentence, I italicize “same week” for emphasis.

There was a movie titledLincolnabout the presidency of Abraham Lincoln.

The signing of the Emancipation Proclamation was included in the filmLincoln; the hanging of the Dakota 38 was not.

In any case, you might be asking, “Why were thirty eight Dakota menhung?

”

As a side note, the past tense of hang is hung, but when referring to the capital punishment of hanging, the correct past tense ishanged.

So it’s possible that you’re asking, “Why were thirty-eight Dakota men hanged?

”

They were hanged for the Sioux Uprising.

I want to tell you about the Sioux Uprising, but I don’t know where to begin.

I may jump around and details will not unfold in chronological order.

Keep in mind, I am not a historian.

So I will recount facts as best as I can, given limited resources and understanding.

Before Minnesota was a state, the Minnesota region, generally speaking, was the traditional homeland for Dakota, Anishinaabeg, and Ho-Chunk people.

During the 1800s, when the US expanded territory, they “purchased” land from the Dakota people as well as the other tribes.

But another way to understand that sort of “purchase” is: Dakota leaders ceded land to the US government in exchange for money or goods, but most importantly, the safety of their people.

Some say that Dakota leaders did not understand the terms they were entering, or they never would have agreed.

Even others call the entire negotiation “trickery.

”

But to make whatever-it-was official and binding, the US government drew up an initial treaty.

This treaty was later replaced by another (more convenient) treaty, and then another.

I’ve had difficulty unraveling the terms of these treaties, given the legal speak and congressional language.

As treaties were abrogated (broken) and new treaties were drafted, one after another, the new treaties often referenced old defunct treaties, and it is a muddy, switchback trail to follow.

Although I often feel lost on this trail, I know I am not alone.

However, as best as I can put the facts together, in 1851, Dakota territory was contained to a twelve-mile by one-hundred-fifty-mile long strip along the Minnesota River.

But just seven years later, in 1858, the northern portion was ceded (taken) and the southern portion was (conveniently) allotted, which reduced Dakota land to a stark ten-mile tract.

These amended and broken treaties are often referred to as the Minnesota Treaties.

The wordMinnesotacomes frommni, which means water; andsota, which means turbid.

Synonyms for turbid include muddy, unclear, cloudy, confused, and smoky.

Everything is in the language we use.

For example, a treaty is, essentially, a contract between two sovereign nations.

The US treaties with the Dakota Nation were legal contracts that promised money.

It could be said, this money was payment for the land the Dakota ceded; for living within assigned boundaries (a reservation); and for relinquishing rights to their vast hunting territory which, in turn, made Dakota people dependent on other means to survive: money.

The previous sentence is circular, akin to so many aspects of history.

As you may have guessed by now, the money promised in the turbid treaties did not make it into the hands of Dakota people.

In addition, local government traders would not offer credit to “Indians” to purchase food or goods.

Without money, store credit, or rights to hunt beyond their ten-mile tract of land, Dakota people began to starve.

The Dakota people were starving.

The Dakota people starved.

In the preceding sentence, the word “starved” does not need italics for emphasis.

One should read “The Dakota people starved” as a straightforward and plainly stated fact.

As a result—and without other options but to continue to starve—Dakota people retaliated.

Dakota warriors organized, struck out, and killed settlers and traders.

This revolt is called the Sioux Uprising.

Eventually, the US Cavalry came to Mnisota to confront the Uprising.

More than one thousand Dakota people were sent to prison.

As already mentioned, thirty eight Dakota men were subsequently hanged.

After the hanging, those one thousand Dakota prisoners were released.

However, as further consequence, what remained of Dakota territory in Mnisota was dissolved (stolen).

The Dakota people had no land to return to.

This means they were exiled.

Homeless, the Dakota people of Mnisota were relocated (forced) onto reservations in South Dakota and Nebraska.

Now, every year, a group called the Dakota 38 + 2 Riders conduct a memorial horse ride from Lower Brule, South Dakota, to Mankato, Mnisota.

The Memorial Riders travel 325 miles on horseback for eighteen days, sometimes through subzero blizzards.

They conclude their journey on December 26, the day of the hanging.

Memorials help focus our memory on particular people or events.

Often, memorials come in the forms of plaques, statues, or gravestones.

The memorial for the Dakota 38 is not an object inscribed with words, but anact.

Yet, I started this piece because I was interested in writing about grasses.

So, there is one other event to include, although it’s not in chronological order and we must backtrack a little.

When the Dakota people were starving, as you may remember, government traders would not extend store credit to “Indians.

”

One trader named Andrew Myrick is famous for his refusal to provide credit to Dakota people by saying, “If they are hungry, let them eat grass.

”

There are variations of Myrick’s words, but they are all something to that effect.

When settlers and traders were killed during the Sioux Uprising, one of the first to be executed by the Dakota was Andrew Myrick.

When Myrick’s body was found,

his mouth was stuffed with grass.

I am inclined to call this act by the Dakota warriors a poem.

There’s irony in their poem.

There was no text.

“Real” poems do not “really” require words.

I have italicized the previous sentence to indicate inner dialogue, a revealing moment.

But, on second thought, the words “Let them eat grass” click the gears of the poem into place.

So, we could also say, language and word choice are crucial to the poem’s work.

Things are circling back again.

Sometimes, when in a circle, if I wish to exit, I must leap.

And let the body swing.

From the platform.

Out
to the grasses.

WHEREAS Read Poem

WHEREAS a string-bean blue-eyed man leans back into a swig of beer work-weary lips at the dark bottle keeping cool in short sleeves and khakis he enters the discussion;Whereas his wrist loose at the bottleneck to come across as candid “Wellat leastthere was an Apology that’s all I can say” he offers to the circle each of them scholarly;Whereas under starlight the fireflies wink across East Coast grass and me I sit there painful in my silence glued to a bench in the midst of the American casual;Whereas a subtle electricity in that low purple light I felt their eyes on my face gauging a reaction and someone’s discomfort leaks out in a well-stated “Hmmm”;Whereas like a bird darting from an oncoming semi my mind races to the Apology’s assertion “While the establishment of permanent European settlements in North America did stir conflict with nearby Indian tribes, peaceful and mutually beneficial interactions also took place”;Whereas I cross my arms and raise a curled hand to my mouth as if thinking as if taking it in I allow a static quiet then choose to stand up excusing myself I leave them to unease;Whereas I drive down the road replaying the get-together how the man and his beer bottle stated their piece and I reel at what I could have said or done better;Whereas I could’ve but didn’t broach the subject of “genocide” the absence of this term from the Apology and its rephrasing as “conflict” for example;Whereas since the moment had passed I accept what’s done and the knife of my conscience pierces with bone-clean self-honesty;Whereas in a stirred conflict between settlers and an Indian that night in a circle;Whereas I struggle to confess that I didn’t want to explain anything;Whereas truthfully I wished most to kick the legs of that man’s chair out from under him;Whereas to watch him fall backward legs flailing beer stench across his chest;Whereas I pictured it happening in cinematic slow-motion delightful;Whereas the curled hand I raised to my mouth was a sign of indecision;Whereas I could’ve done it but I didn’t;Whereas I can admit this also took place, yes,at least;WHEREAS we ride to the airport in a van they swivel their necks and shoulders around to speak to me sugar and lilt in their voices something like nurses their nursely kindness through my hair then engage me as comrades in a fight together.

Well what we want to know one lady asks is why they don’t have schoolsthere?

Her outrage empathy her furrowed brow.

There are schoolsthereI reply.

Grade schools high schools colleges.

But why aren’t there any storesthere?

There are storesthere.

Grocery stores convenience stores trading posts whatever what-have-you I explain but it’s here I recognize the break.

It’s here we roll along the pavement into hills of conversation we share a ride we share a country but live in alternate nations and here I must tell them what they don’t know or, should I?

Should Iis the moment to seize and before I know it I say Well you know Native people as in tribes as in “people” living overthereare people with their own nations each with its own government and flag they rise to their own national songs and sing in their own languages, even.

And bythereI meanhereall around us I remind them.

Drifting in side-glances to whirring trees through the van windows then back to me they dig in they unearth the golden question My God how come we were never taught this in our schools?

The concern and furrow.

But God the slowing wheels and we lurch forward in the van’s downshift and brake.

Together we reach a full-stop.

Trapped in a helix of traffic we’re late for check-in security flights our shoulders flex forward into panicked outward gazes nerves and fingers cradle our wristwatches so to answer their question now would be untimely because to really speak to it ever is, untimely.

ButthereComradesthere thereNurses.

I will remember the swing of your gold earrings.

Thereyour perfume around me as a fresh blanket.

Thereyou checked my pulse kindly.

Therethe boundary of bedside manners;WHEREAS a woman I know says she watched a news program a reporter detailed the fire a house in which five children burned perhaps their father too she doesn’t recall exactly but remembers the camera on the mother’s face the mother’s blubbering her hiccuping and wail she leans to me she says she never knew then in those times that year this country the northern state she grew up in she was so young you see she’d never seen it before nobody talked about them she means Indians she tells me and so on and so on but that moment in front of the TV she says was like opening a box left at her door opening to see the thing inside whereas to say she learned through that mother’s face can you believe it and I let her finish wanting someone to say it but she hated saying it or so she said admitting how she never knew until then they could feel;WHEREAS the wordwhereasmeans it being the case that, or considering that, or while on the contrary; is a qualifying or introductory statement, a conjunction, a connector.

Whereas sets the table.

The cloth.

The saltshakers and plates.

Whereas calls me to the table because Whereas precedes and invites.

I have come now.

I’m seated across from a Whereas smile.

Under pressure of formalities, I fidget I shake my legs.

I’m not one for these smiles, Whereas I have spent my life in unholding.

What do you mean by unholding?

Whereas asks and since Whereas rarely asks, I am moved to respond, Whereas, I have learned to exist and exist without your formality, saltshakers, plates, cloth.

Without the slightest conjunctions to connect me.

Without an exchange of questions, without the courtesy of answers.

This has become mine, this unholding.

Whereas, with or without the setup, I can see the dish being served.

Whereas let us bow our heads in prayer now, just enough to eat;

Obligations 2 Read Poem

As we

embrace          resist

the future       the present      the past

we work          we struggle          we begin          we fail

to understand       to find        to unbraid        to accept        to question

the grief          the grief           the grief          the grief

we shift         we wield           we bury

into light               as ash

across our faces

Talent Read Poem

my first try I made a hit it dropped from morning gray the smallest shadow both wings slippedinward mid-flight the man barkedNowI shot again and again a third time with each arrowthrough the target I thought was it luck or was it skill luck or skill as the last one fellits awkward shape made me run there pulsing on the ground I was astounded by its size agangly white goose throbbed heaved its head my eyes dropped blood flowers opened in thesnow of its neck behind my shoulder stepping down from a yellow buschild made their way across the field I shot once more to end it quickly close range its deathdid I do this to spare the bird from suffering or to spare the children the sight my motives inhumid cold yes my knuckles in the cold steamed bright redbecause on my stomach in grass in rubber boots pockets and vests I slid along with that hunter Idid as he directed from quiver my draw my black lashes in steely eyed release it felt good thereit felt strong my breath in autumn was an animal there I thought did I really do this        didIreally yet what difference is muscle is an arrow powered upward or any flight to center when Idid not hear it though I clearly mouthedpoor thing poor thing poor thing

from WHEREAS Read Poem

WHEREAS a string-bean blue-eyed man leans back into a swig of beer work-weary lips at the dark bottle keeping cool in short sleeves and khakis he enters the discussion;


Whereas his wrist loose at the bottleneck to come across as candid “Well at least there was an Apology that’s all I can say” he offers to the circle each of them scholarly;


Whereas under starlight the fireflies wink across East Coast grass and me I sit there painful in my silence glued to a bench in the midst of the American casual;


Whereas a subtle electricity in that low purple light I felt their eyes on my face gauging a reaction and someone’s discomfort leaks out in a well-stated “Hmmm”;


Whereas like a bird darting from an oncoming semi my mind races to the Apology’s assertion “While the establishment of permanent European settlements in North America did stir conflict with nearby Indian tribes, peaceful and mutually beneficial interactions also took place”;


Whereas I cross my arms and raise a curled hand to my mouth as if thinking as if  taking it in I allow a static quiet then choose to stand up excusing myself  I leave them to unease;


Whereas I drive down the road replaying the get-together how the man and his beer bottle stated their piece and I reel at what I could have said or done better;


Whereas I could’ve but didn’t broach the subject of “genocide” the absence of this term from the Apology and its rephrasing as “conflict” for example;


Whereas since the moment had passed I accept what’s done and the knife of my conscience pierces with bone-clean self-honesty;


Whereas in a stirred conflict between settlers and an Indian that night in a circle;


Whereas I struggle to confess that I didn’t want to explain anything;


Whereas truthfully I wished most to kick the legs of that man’s chair out from under him;


Whereas to watch him fall backward legs flailing beer stench across his chest;


Whereas I pictured it happening in cinematic slow-motion delightful;


Whereas the curled hand I raised to my mouth was a sign of indecision;


Whereas I could’ve done it but I didn’t;


Whereas I can admit this also took place, yes, at least;


 




WHEREAS we ride to the airport in a van they swivel their necks and shoulders around to speak to me sugar and lilt in their voices something like nurses their nursely kindness through my hair then engage me as comrades in a fight together.

Well what we want to know one lady asks is why they don’t have schools there?

Her outrage empathy her furrowed brow.

There are schools there I reply.

Grade schools high schools colleges.

But why aren’t there any stores there?

There are stores there.

Grocery stores convenience stores trading posts whatever what-have-you I explain but it’s here I recognize the break.

It’s here we roll along the pavement into hills of conversation we share a ride we share a country but live in alternate nations and here I must tell them what they don’t know or, should I?

Should I is the moment to seize and before I know it I say Well you know Native people as in tribes as in “people” living over there are people with their own nations each with its own government and flag they rise to their own national songs and sing in their own languages, even.

And by there I mean here all around us I remind them.

Drifting in side-glances to whirring trees through the van windows then back to me they dig in they unearth the golden question My God how come we were never taught this in our schools?

The concern and furrow.

But God the slowing wheels and we lurch forward in the van’s downshift and brake.

Together we reach a full-stop.

Trapped in a helix of traffic we’re late for check-in security flights our shoulders flex forward into panicked outward gazes nerves and fingers cradle our wristwatches so to answer their question now would be untimely because to really speak to it ever is, untimely.

But there Comrades there there Nurses.

I will remember the swing of your gold earrings.

There your perfume around me as a fresh blanket.

There you checked my pulse kindly.

There the boundary of bedside manners;


 





WHEREAS a woman I know says she watched a news program a reporter detailed the fire a house in which five children burned perhaps their father too she doesn’t recall exactly but remembers the camera on the mother’s face the mother’s blubbering her hiccuping and wail she leans to me she says she never knew then in those times that year this country the northern state she grew up in she was so young you see she’d never seen it before nobody talked about them she means Indians she tells me and so on and so on but that moment in front of the TV she says was like opening a box left at her door opening to see the thing inside whereas to say she learned through that mother’s face can you believe it and I let her finish wanting someone to say it but she hated saying it or so she said admitting how she never knew until then they could feel;


 





WHEREAS the word whereas means it being the case that, or considering that, or while on the contrary; is a qualifying or introductory statement, a conjunction, a connector.

Whereas sets the table.

The cloth.

The saltshakers and plates.

Whereas calls me to the table because Whereas precedes and invites.

I have come now.

I’m seated across from a Whereas smile.

Under pressure of formalities, I fidget I shake my legs.

I’m not one for these smiles, Whereas I have spent my life in unholding.

What do you mean by unholding?

Whereas asks and since Whereas rarely asks, I am moved to respond, Whereas, I have learned to exist and exist without your formality, saltshakers, plates, cloth.

Without the slightest conjunctions to connect me.

Without an exchange of questions, without the courtesy of answers.

This has become mine, this unholding.

Whereas, with or without the setup, I can see the dish being served.

Whereas let us bow our heads in prayer now, just enough to eat;

Poems by Layli Long Soldier

Layli Long Soldier is an Oglala Lakota poet, writer, feminist, artist, and activist.

Poems