What we’ve gained
Thank you for moving me off of my land
Moved to some place like sardines in a can
It only happened because my people were weak
Once we were free to stand high on some peak
Today we stand proud and gather as one
No longer hiding or having to run
Its been many years and we still have our will
Represented in the law or even a bill
We are a few people wanting respect in return
If you think of us lower then deep down you’ll burn
What we’ve gained out of this is strong shade of lives
Diversified children with different husbands and wives
Closet Shame
From what I’ve seen I’m not really proud
What doesn’t exist and what’s actually allowed
I don’t act “real Indian” so I’ve been told
Some of my tradition I guess I never did hold
I only see ugly the way they treat each other poor
Then I feel pity because of the ongoing war
An existence I feel but often don’t witness
Lost in the scheme of rank, greed and political bitterness
Holding this closet shame in terrible doubt
Their ears from the elders said this isn’t what it’s about
Mine By Right
Go away leave me be
God made this land and tree
I was here first so just go
You don’t own this so low so low
This is mine by right go right now
Next time you come I demand a bow
Native American
I know only two Native
American words:
that’s fried bread and beer
I party like its 1999,
have a car that runs on
one gear called fast, many
teepee friends (wink, wink)
and a dream job of
watching all the TV
I want on moms couch
Yeah I’ll give you a ride
but beer talks
my motto is say no to drugs and
yes to fried bread and beer
and an occasional pow wow
at any Indian casino
Wow--Jenna! Your poetry is just getting better and better...I just read the one about fry bread and beer, and I think you should send this to someone with some poetry power, like Sherman Alexie-type power. I mean it. It's really good.
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