The world, even the smallest parts of it, is filled with things you don't know.
If you care about something enough, it's going to make you cry. But you have to use it. Use your tears. Use your pain. Use your fear. Get mad.
Everyone I have lost
in the closing of a door
the click of the lock
is not forgotten, they
do not die but remain
within the soft edges
of the earth, the ash
of house fires and cancer
in sin and forgiveness
huddled under old blankets
dreaming their way into
my hands, my heart
closing tight like fists.
- "Indian Boy Love Song #1
Tags: poetry
Let’s get one thing out of the way: Mexican immigration is an oxymoron. Mexicans are indigenous. So, in a strange way, I’m pleased that the racist folks of Arizona have
officially declared, in banning me alongside Urrea, Baca, and Castillo, that their anti-immigration laws are also anti-Indian. I’m also strangely pleased that the folks of Arizona
have officially announced their fear of an educated underclass. You give those brown kids some books about brown folks and what happens? Those brown kids change the world. In the effort to vanish our books, Arizona has actually given them enormous power. Arizona has made our books sacred documents now.
Tags: banned-books
When you read a piece of writing that you admire, send a note of thanks to the author.
Sherman AlexieIt was so quiet, a reservation kind of quiet, where you can hear somebody drinking whiskey on the rocks three miles away.
Sherman AlexieTags: fear solitude silence loneliness addiction drinking isolation depression whiskey deprivation
And finally this, when the sun was falling down so beautiful we didn’t have time to give it a name, she held the child born of white mother and red father and said,’ Both sides of this baby are beautiful’.
Sherman AlexieIf you speak and write in English, or Spanish, or Chinese, or any other language, then only a certain percentage of human beings will get your meaning.
But when you draw a picture everybody can understand it.
Standing on the shore, I prayed for my dead. I praised them. I stupidly hoped that the lake would heal my small wounds. Then I stripped off my clothes and waded naked into the water.
Jesus, I don't want to die today or tomorrow, but I don't want to live forever.
He felt split in two, one crazy man eating hair and one rational man watching a crazy man eat hair. He chewed and swallowed the last pieces of his father's life. He felt like he was building a museum of pain, a freak show, where he was the only visitor viewing the only mutant screaming the only prayer he knew: Come back, Daddy. Come back, Daddy. Come back, Daddy. Come back, Daddy. Come back, Daddy. Come back, Daddy. Come back, Daddy. Come back Daddy...
Sherman AlexieTags: death grief awesome beatiful
So Lightning says to Mud,
“What would happen if I struck your blood?”
And Mud says, “Brother,
It would hurt,
And make me the mother
Of every living thing.
But, Fire Boy, you ain’t lifting my grass skirt
Until you burn me a ring.
Tags: poetry poem lightning sherman-alexie native-american-poetry native-american-poet
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