The prompt was, How Your Mind Has Changed
In Grade 8, Social Studies, we had a unit on Native people of Canada
There were Plains Indians with their buffalo
There were Haida with their totem poles
There were Eskimos with their igloos
It was taught entirely in the past tense
As if they were all gone now.
No field trips to former residential schools
No trip a few miles down the highway to Osweken.
When we realize that one bit of education is biassed, partial
politically and culturally determined,
what can we trust?
Even math has uncertainty
Soon all certainty falls away.
Exodus, sung by . . . Andy Williams
"This land is mine/God gave this land to me"
#1 hit in 1961
certainly convinced a lot of people that
an ancient monotheistic tribe
that survived to the 2Oth century
had a god-given right to a piece of land -
No, that doesn't hold up.
Even borders and boundaries are
made up by power or peace-seeking groups.
Hell, the "right" to national self-determination is a concept developed in the 19th century
Before language and culture- based countries, people lived in multi-cultural empires, Ottoman, Austro-Hungarian, Russian and on and on . . .
What are we certain of?
The only truth we can point to is the every-changing truth
of our own experience --- and even that -
Everyone wants to believe there's an authority
Every authority can be deconstructed.
Certainty is not an indication of truth.
up and coming and let the thought drop down drowning just the mighty while you others act like clowns spitting right as left rotates you never off the ground grass is greener meditate and hear how fucking loud the sound of your ego getting off the ground consider once a family full of feasting the soul was left aground I've feasted once a many times my eyes were surprised stupendous was the cause I walked 30 miles the yaw may break the yoke the maw is but a jaw even the powerful do choke strength is but a light stroke the pen beats paper till it drowns in red I beat paper just to make amends tears drown out the sky as salty eyes can't see the end of sky it fuzzes to corn on a night drive sleep calls but I'm on texts the sex don't last as long as regrets my turn comes again flip the tune play a friend that's who I need I'm on my knees thinking why again am I alone moving motions on the floor I call it patterns we recognize a turn digitize the spoke an angle brings a cause stemming pause shrinking cause to say enough for me something's free but explore the words not one note many chords harmonizing angel's sword beaming light upon lord rays of light newton's words stemming from penning and spinning alchemy storms shaking and rumbling gently stroking quill scratching like barns screeching a touch of history comes to mind but whats the story I describe express the feeling come to mind but mind it's not, gut personified the intestine thinks and liver makes merry the bladder worries the anus ferries the sphincter asks who the butt comes in two and I'm sitting here grinning with the party called tooth am I too nice is a question I ask taking others at their word is a dangerous task I assume good intentions and get condescension gaslighting is normal I'm dropped in a bottle to be me is normal and unacceptable do I live unapologetically or with my family its easy to say hard to do money just a number but numbers kill too sticks and stones break my bones but I'm buried six under sometimes I wonder what's next in life is it for me or them if not the when do I go zen or grasp possibility could it really be as freeing as it seems to be those freaky bees you been seeing be free online just killing time the number crime shrinking to none like us all in time so who wins the competition because there's just one way the better way and judgement cometh from comets cousins or the church it's public opinion or private gossip lip it check it bop it ooh wrinkles got me down they wrap the mouth like a frown why can't they wave feel the breeze let noise be the wind coasting not projecting no cone just sooth oh my god the fucking word to be free to express no judgement just see everything is a crime I'm not who you expected is that alright because it doesn't seem to be my goodness, I'm in, my head
i took my teeth out and taught the bittersweet vegan rolled up tongue tapping top of mouth mapmaking unbreaded butter, bone on bone keep growing and get slapped she started teething too fast I'm rattled - i keep knocking the echoes get loud from toetapping
It was me, younger, making claims "Did those things happen Dad?" No, but I was certain they would "What are you certain of now, Dad?" I'm certain that I love you I'm certain that I love your sisters I'm certain that I love to make music I guess I am certain when it comes to love The rest is up for grabsMy son and I just watched a video
red bathrobe nazi striptease: the new wave keeps washing in. a word for weight loss, for purple links, the way that ripeness sickens, for dry spit and red eyes, the surety that came when i did.
i bit this one off a deactivated twitter person, who described her similar experience more evocatively. i can't find her poem because the account is gone