#larry nicholson

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End Of The Road

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No Snacks For You | Photo: Larry Nicholson - Via

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Tractor

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Pepsi

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All There Is... Is An Old Woman's Voice by Larry Nicholson

All There Is... Is An Old Woman's Voice by Larry Nicholson © from the Salish Seas Anthology

in a run down little house on a piece of borrowed land

this side of the reserve

I remember the old woman in dark skin and white hair telling me,

warning me-

a story told without love will not be remembered

like indians do,

I took you as my grandmother, never having met either of my own

(or my mother)

and I took those words as commandments

or more accurately, I took stewardship of your words,

I protected them

like indians do

my damaged memory of your ghostly form

is framed by crumpled leaves and dense grasses

deadfall and marshy muskeg,

I am not painting a quaint, rustic, idyllic landscape

not singing to the "oneness" of anything

I am beyond remembering

and singing my own song

in a place where I saw bent women, berry picking

and one with lips, stained red and succulent

I tried but found I could never taste that good to her

and on and on and on...

I carry my grief and gladness and never look back

in these places... I saw

in every village, every town, each weigh station

I have been a pilgrim, a merchant, trading stories, hands and more

at calgary

at brindisi,

at neskonlith

at santorini

at peace hills

at oaxaca

at napean

at musqueam

at white beat

at oslo

at yellow knife

at oppenheimer park

unvarnished episodes, encounters, entanglements

recorded only in an island of lost memories that you may have

of her telling you: it's alright...you're okay,

and these things were so only because she said they were

she has pulled us through birth canals and rites of passage...

the death of my brothers

because of men she wore outmoded black veils and still

set broken bones, nourished us with compassion

we were astonished, emboldened, fed and far better... soothed

when we felt as motherless children

when we felt at the brink of cavernous dark

from the margins they shape the world

through cultures melding and those long since vanished

there are still glimpses of something permanent, eternal

it is that I long for the comfort of her voice

snatch for it like a thief

guard it like final embers carried

across tundra by dried mud tribes of stone age

once,

there were long strands of hair, shiny and damp

that fell across her shoulders, beneath the sunlight...

these sapphire-tinted recollections (every last one)

are her words and are air and water and reflection

I am nothing, sometimes not even a man

just a word finder, conjurer of everything you have already said,

without you I would have stayed nothing, dust or the thought of it

but not something is created across time and space

because she was here, existed

the first mother wears these lakes and rivers,

mountains, meadows, towns and cities

and I am given to the worship of things I cannot explain -

condemn those foolish enough to live without magic -

she teaches me to understand

that every woman is someone's daughter on this perilous journey

that life beyond every kind of poverty is better

and though yet hungry for that great wisdom and power

I am still ashamed (though still alive),

still asking the same foolish questions as in ages past

but for you I am contented with love... every kind of love

and I now know where all words come from

with me it is sacred faith that there is grace among storm

and on certain miracle nights, sometimes, I almost feel... beloved

the great wisdom of her collective ages:

that love cannot conquer

but it can survive...

it has at least that much power

[latenightsavages-blog]

Late Night December 14th: Poets

Theo Campbell - http://www.facebook.com/pages/Theodore-Campbell/274284789262942?sk=info

The host of Late Night With Savages, Theo Campbell was published in the Salish Seas Anthology along with many other excellent Aboriginal writers. He performed at this year's Word On The Street Festival and is a member of the World Poetry Organization's Youth Team.

Chris Bose - http://findingshelter.blogspot.com/

Chris Bose is a Secwepemc/Nlaka pamux NDN, and has been doing music, art, and writing his whole life. He figures creativity saved him from an early grave, and now promotes and teaches aboriginal youth the strength there is to finding there voice creatively.

Larry Nicholson - http://thebrowntowncrier.blogspot.com/

Coming from Montana Cree Nation at Hobbema, Alberta, he received his BFA from UBC's Creative Writing Department and has written for the stage, TV and newspaper, and published poetry in various venues such as Wreck Magazine, One Cool Word, Gatherings (Theytus Books), and more. Larry is proudly Cree and has gratefully called Coast Salish Territory home since '98. Larry is also a Virgo and shoots right.

Russell Wallace

Russell Wallace is a composer, producer, traditional Lil'wat singer and writer. Wallace went through the Creative Writing Program at the University of British Columbia where he concentrated his studies on Poetry and Lyric and Libretto. Wallace's music has been part of a number of soundtracks (film, video, television) and theatre//dance productions. Currently Wallace works and teaches at the Native Education College, Capilano University and various theatre programs across Canada. Wallace's CDs include Through the Cracks, Neo-Nativisms: 1998-2009, and Heart Beats.

Joy Harjo - http://www.joyharjo.com/Home.html

Joy Harjo is a Native American poet, musician, and author. Though she is most well known for her poetry, she's also taught at the college level, played alto saxophone with a band called Poetic Justice, edited literary journals, and written screenplays. She is a member of the Muscogee (Creek) Nation and is of Cherokee descent. She is a graduate of the Iowa Writers' Workshop at the University of Iowa, and has received the Lifetime Achievement Award from the Native Writers' Circle of the Americas.