"The New Colossus Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame, With conquering limbs astride from land to land; Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame. "Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"
--Emma Lazarus, 1883
Flirting with Liberty:
I saw the torch you carry and
blushing came to mind
i only see sunrises before i go to sleep
i only sleep soundly on your skin
the older i get the more i sin
bleeding reminds me of how
little i will create
how barren i choose to be
how closely i guard myself
still vulgar
still a little mean
everyone knows the meaning
knows the omens of serpents
of being cast out of gardens
enter the tired, the poor
the huddled masses
tempest-tossed
behind golden doors
guarded by black snakes
punish the tempted not the tempter and leave pests in your hedgerow
exiled by entrapment
conspired with war gods
attempt to reload
pistols
ouroboros
seven arrows
medicine wheels
remiss to forgot about the rotation
the moving of stars beneath light pollution
beneath the smog of many many megabytes
lonely nights, when we remember
that calendars change too
for one man in the sky
we abuse an earth some call mother
burning her blood to fly rockets
named after abandoned gods
to be near another absent father
among the stars
to colonize every other garden
naming them eden
for the sake of mankind
and profit
I do not exist in anybody's pocket
or for any woman, idol or god
gifted with any intention from overseas
claiming to bring me liberty
I was already free
the wrong traditions
in the hall of the mountain king
nobody remembered spring or how
to cut cedar and burn sage
bear root stinging in the nostrils
hand drums like heartbeats
pump like puppet strings
carry water and chop wood
warble, sing unlike yourself
live in dreams like the tall man
silenced by songs from shadows
taken out of this space
find a better place to expire
kick up dust past
prickly pears in the bull field
run sideways up butte tops
to stand against the wind
with strays, ready for take off, say
i think we used to be able to fly
tall grass and chokecherries
i didn’t know you were family
raised on the old river, south
adopted and forgotten
every other decade we reappear
crows remember individual faces
you tell me i’m sneaky
like a little lakota boy
hoksila running clouds
into dirt that never washes out
falling easily into the wrong traditions
snake holes and prairie dog homes
if you’d get over your gender
i would show you i earned brave
i’d dance beside you in the sun
wrapped in red felt protection
twisted in eagle bone whistles
tethered to an empty skull
whiter than light
Inipi:
walk this way
night-side of sweat lodge
sideways of long gone
knick-knacks in the dusty corners
forgive me, i’m forgetting
a childhood denied
and games unending
hand drums massage heart-stings
limber and dreamily
we wait for doors to open
and minds to clear
steamed in unity
self-determined to grow
sun-wise and weedy
let go of greed and float freely
i want you to need me
like water
sweat paints rivers down our sides
eyes burn keyholes into smoke
and i can breathe you between stars
i can feel you sliding near me
singing old songs from the throat
through the lungs of the earth
War and Pieces:
ending in pretends
chopping down the tree of nobody was ever so hateful
falling into a hole and digging deeper
self-destructed and it’s everything to wrestle free
the sickness of vengeful minds
the drawing of boundaries
your friends line up like soldiers
to defend a home that isn’t yours
people can’t own land
any more than they can own people
we only make them better or worse
by cultivation or pollution
hate is a word born virus
climbing from ears to vein
brain-bred and unfed
fear clouds judgment
conflict
the cost of war always uncounted
in the crossfire of weapons created
from the most ravaged minds of science
earth elements to destroy earth
radioactive and leaching
if the price is right and removed
if you take yourself away from feeling
you can commit yourself to cut trees freely
and stop breathing clean air
or drinking wild water
we are souls always marching
ourselves to death
digging deeper lies and trenches
the cost of love always uncounted
in the crossfire of weapons made of words
from the most ravaged hearts of loneliness
people to destroy people
cold and greedy
let the wind carry us like leaves
into the arms of lovers
who do not seek to conquer
love is trust not thrust
willing us to peace or pieces
White Lies:
Pass time to fake it
ignore the beat in your veins
run it over. ruin it
foot tapping anxiety
envious of things that come easy
barn burnings, no raising
the sun always setting
I stepped out of time
I smelled winter in your hair
all minor chords dissipate
a sigh of relief that things die out
and regrow
I know that nothing's fair
I keep dreaming of the past
but plans reorganize
some things never take root
and some things bloom
I can't understand people without the context
of nature
you were a fox, a wolf, a lamb or a snake
it was the dead of winter
it was the heat of summer
we were under orion's belt
there was lavender in the fields
scent is the most powerful sense
smudged in sage and bathed in ancestors
comforted by tales of tricksters
who fool themselves
like the little lies we all tell ourselves
the lies that eat at us
the poisons of convenience we ingest
the consequence of conquest
//
Brave Crow is a two-spirit Lakota poet, born and raised in Iowa and enrolled on Standing Rock. They graduated from Coe College with a degrees in Political Science and Creative Writing in 2010. Currently they reside in Minneapolis where they spend all their time biking, writing, eating tacos and hanging out with their coonhound, Willie Nelson. Mni Wiconi.