Sharpening Stone (day 2326)

Upon a knee
Our warrior was blasphemed
Rose in teeth
Cut down
And consecrated
Upside down
By a dagger
Ten inches long
Through the girth
Of his left rib
Icy reverie ensued
From the coldest of hands
From the North Sea Queen.

Upon a knee
Blood thickly rolled
Like dreadful winter freeze
All words lost
In the eyes of our warrior
Who at long last
Veil removed
Saw truth
Darkness in the heart
Ice in the touch
Of the North Sea Queen.

Upon a knee
A heart slowly broke
Glossed over
With ice
A deep cold
For within this
Intimate hearth
Exposed, revealed
A sharpening stone
Ancient and froze
And our warrior’s sadness
Frigid
Clasped
By the North Sea Queen.

North Sea Queen II by Doreen Broers
North Sea Queen II by Doreen Broers (ig)

Memory (day 2207)

The day was half over
Filled with drunks and half wits
That slowly dislodged the sane ties
Holding what edges of reason I had together
I flipped the channel
Inhaled deeply
Groaned with anticipation
And slowly leaked what thick blood I had
Into a mason jar
Ready to be placed close
To lost bits of memory
I never knew were gone.

The Wedding (day 2156)

I want to have a terribly sad wedding
The saddest wedding of all
Where all the guests dress in black
And music will be sombre
Leading many attendees to tears.
I want the food to evoke heartbreak
And the clouds to be forever ominous
Dead midwinter grays will be everywhere
The roses will be dried
And their stems quick to draw blood
With fires burning and candlesticks
That attracts gazes of lost reverie.
I will have guests
Sign their names in blood
And a butler will be there to request it
With orders not to ever smile.
Each place will be set
With Gothic cutlery
And matching black napkins
Folded in a melancholy way.
I want an organ to hold a single chord
For the entire evening
An omnipresent chord
That each song will be tuned to
Maybe a D melodic minor
Or a F flat diminished 7th.
And on my wedding day just so
There will only be one person
Standing at the alter
It will be the pastor
Of an unimaginably vague faith
Whom nobody will know
And nobody will greet
And nobody will listen to his words
For they will blend right in
With the grumbling organ
In the key of terribly sad.
I will watch the whole preceding
Not greeting a single guest
Feom my perch high up
A balcony through my vaulted windows
Of my cold stone house
And there I will sit
Surrounded by ghosts
That I forgot to invite
To my terribly sad wedding
And sitting close by
Without a smile on her face
Will be love for the rest of my life.

Moon at Midnight – Part XXXXXX (day 2034)

(part XXXXXIX)

When Willow came back into the teepee
I knew instantly something was wrong
Actually, I think I knew before she came back in
But when she did
Just one look at her and I could tell that
Something horrible had just happened
Then I saw the blood
And she was incredibly pale
She fell into my arms
And I comforted her as we sat on the floor
She lightly sobbed in my shoulder.

I sent Lily over to get Mercy
When Mercy came in and saw Willow
She knew what had happened immediately
And began to comfort her
Mercy went and looked
To see what had come out
So we knew there was no immediate danger
But the bleeding still had to stop
And that was a worry.

By the next day,
Willow had stopped bleeding
And the colour was returning to her face
Though she was still sad and distant
We both were
I sat and lay with her a lot in those days
As she rested
And noticed her looking nowhere often
Something I had never seen her do before
She usually just stared at me
I think she didn’t understand my hair colour.

It was nice to have Lily around
To comfort her mother, too
She was a great little mother for us
I knew Willow had really wanted the baby
To prove more to her family
Then to me
That she wasn’t less then nothing
Since her first man had passed,
Something of pride,
But I also knew that Willow had so much to be proud of
One perfect example was Lily
Who silently provided for us
As we all comforted each other.

After five days of bed rest
I must have changed the rocks in her bed
Ten times a day
She enjoyed it, so I was happy
And she was looking much better
As was the cough nearly gone
I was happy to see
She meant the world to me
And we gave the little moccasins away
To Runs Wild’s wife
Who was now expecting a baby as well
They were both very happy to have them
And they were also very happy to see
Willow walking around and looking better.

part XXXXXXI

Moon at Midnight – Part XXXXVI (day 2020)

(part XXXXV)

During this time of the cold season
I became well acquainted with the myths and legends
Of the Blackfoot
One of my favourite
Was always of the Old Man, Or Na-pe,
He was a common figure in all of the legends
As the first human alive.

One day, he was sitting by his fire
And thinking to himself that he was lonely
He was restless and lonely
He looked around and tried to console himself
With the things that he had
He had a good stick to be poking the fire with
He had a good teepee to be living in
That needed no repair
He had more then enough furs around him
And he had a big buffalo just killed
To feed him for a good long time
He had almost everything he could want,
Why was he restless and lonely?

His only companion, A-pe’si the Coyote
Was very nice to have around
But right now
Was off scheming on his own
He was nice to have around
But always with his schemes
That just didn’t make sense to Old Man.

Old Man packed his pipe and lit it
And then paced around the fire for some time
Thinking: “It would be nice to have somebody to smoke with
Somebody to talk to
Somebody like me,”
And went back to smoking his pipe
“Why not!? I’m the Old Man
I can do anything I want!”

So, Old Man set about his own scheming
First he gathered lots of clay around
Then he started feeling his whole body over
Taking very careful note of each bone in his body
How it felt, how it was shaped
How many of them were in his body
And meticulously went to work
Forming each bone he had in his body with the clay
Once these were all done
He put them into the fire to harden
After he let them sit in the fire long enough
He carefully pulled them out
One by one.

Now Old Man sat with two piles of bones in front of him
One of the piles was all the perfect bones
That had come out of the fire as he had designed them
But the other pile was filled with all of the broken ones
That had split or bent inside of the fire
With the perfect bones
He began to tie the bones into their proper place
Mimicking his own body
He tied the bones together with Buffalo sinew
And he then smoothed them with Buffalo fat
On top of this he then padded some clay mixed with Buffalo blood
And then stretched over the entire frame
Buffalo skin taken from the inside of the Buffalo.

With his mannequin in front of him
He smiled: “Not perfect, but it’s pretty good,”
Poking a bit at some of the crooked pieces
Perhaps he could have thinned it out here
Or tied it a little better with sinew there
So he picked up the man he had made
Blew smoke into his eyes, nose, and mouth
And he came to life
The Old Man asked him if he’d like to sit by the fire
Where he puffed some more on his pipe
And then passed the pipe to the man and said:
“I will make some more,”
And went to collect some more clay
To make some more men.

All day long Old Man worked
Forming more bones from clay
Putting them into the fire
Carefully taking each bone out of the fire
And tying them together with Buffalo sinew
Patting on Buffalo fat to smooth them out
Then a layer of Buffalo blood mixed with clay
And finally stretching Buffalo skin over the entire frame
He sat every one of them down by the fire
And blew smoke into their eyes, nose, and mouths
And left a very big pile of broken bones
Beside the fire.

So now Old Man had some company
Men to hunt with, to sit and smoke his pipe with
To talk with, and they all lived
In his teepee and another teepee he had built
He enjoyed the new life so much
That he began to get lazy
And never threw the broken bones into the river
Like he had intended to do
Every time anybody came or went to the fire
They had to pass by the big pile of broken bones
And this became quite a nuisance to them
They would trip over them frequently
Causing the pile to fall over
Which then had to be picked up and placed neatly again
Each night the wind blew through them
Making the most dreadful of noises.

By this time A-pe’si the Coyote had returned
And he walked around
Inspecting everything that had been done
While he was gone doing whatever it was he was doing,
He didn’t much like the men
And stuck his nose up at them
Saying to Old Man:
“Your handiwork has a little bit to be desired,”
But Old Man knew A-pe’si and just laughed.

A-pe’si also pointed out the pile of bones
“Surely you could do something with the pile of bones here
Why don’t you make another man?”
“Alright alright, I will make more men,”
So Old Man and A-pe’si went to work
Clicking and rattling the bones
As they tried to piece them together
Then tying them all together with sinew
And using Buffalo fat to smooth them over
Adding clay mixed with Buffalo blood on top
Then stretching skin from inside of a Buffalo over it
When Old Man had started
He knew only of man to make and that’s what he was doing
But at every moment he did something
A-pe’si would come and change it a little bit
And so back and forth they went
Until it was done
And they both stepped back
Looking at what they had created
Old Man lit his pipe and thought
It wasn’t what he had created before and was skeptical
Yet Old Man still blew smoke into its eyes, nose, and mouth
And the woman came to life.

A-pe’si and Old Man worked all day
Tying together the rest of the broken bones
With sinew from the Buffalo
And covering it with Buffalo fat to smooth it out
Then molding it together with clay mixed with Buffalo blood
And finally stretching over all of the bones
Skin from the inside of a Buffalo
And after they finished each one
Old Man would blow smoke into its eyes, nose, and mouth
And each woman would come to life.

When all of the bones were tied together
And made into women
Old Man said: “When I made the men
I set them all by the fire”
But as Old Man and A-pe’si walked over to the fire
The women all began to talk amongst each other
A-pe’si smiled and was very pleased with what he had done
And Old Man shrugged his shoulders and lit his pipe
And sat down at the fire and began to smoke it.

So it is known
That even to this day
If you have a fire around
The men will all prefer to sit by the fire
And smoke their pipes
And the women will all gather together
And talk with themselves
To this day it is not known
Whether this is because of how the bones
Clicked and rattled
Pieced together from broken ones
Or because A-pe’si,
Who is a noisy animal by nature,
Had a part in their making.

part XXXXVII

Moon at Midnight – Part XXXVII (day 2011)

(part XXXVI)

Tall Pine and I kept following the tracks
Until we could hear them laughing
Off in the distance
We had the advantage of being silent
Without horses
So we easily snuck up on the bastards
We counted three
And waited until we saw the other two
We knew we had been following five horses.

When they returned
Pine and I had already made a plan
He was good with the arrow
And I had two tomahawks in my hands
They were against a few large boulders
Beside a creek that had a shallow pool
Eating the meat that we had been smoking
And having a gay old time
He assured me he could have three down
Before I jumped
There was another boulder to the left of the group
That he was able to get beside
And also use as a shield
He had eight arrows.

He watched carefully as I silently
Made my way up behind the group
Clearly oblivious to anybody following them
As Pine began sending his arrows into their chests
I jumped on one who was lazily falling asleep
When I turned around two were looking at me
Fumbling to get their guns
And a third had his trousers down
Caught red handed and frozen
Lucky for me,
When the first one fired his gun
It only clicked
I guess he hadn’t reloaded since raiding our village.

With my first swing his hand was gone
The second swing was into his neck
As I swung around
I planted my tomahawk into the seconds head
And ripped my axe from the firsts neck
Pine had taken down the third
Who had his trousers down
Still just standing there unable to move
The horses spooked
But stayed close being tied up
I went over to the first Pine had hit
And made sure he wasn’t still breathing.

The woman was clearly distressed
But recognized me
She sat there, weeping silently
As Pine came up beside me
He gathered the horses
And asked what we would do with them
I told him to remove the saddles
And we will take them with us
But we will walk for now
He tied them halter to tail.

I brought the woman to the creek
To wash her face
I washed the blood from my hands
And cleaned my axes
I tied the guns onto one of the horses
And we began walking back at a fairly fast pace
Still on alert should we have missed anybody.

part XXXVIII

Moon at Midnight – Part XXXV (day 2009)

(part XXXIV)

Moon Cow, Long Arrow and I went hunting
We were gone for four days and three nights
We went South to try and find the buffalo
But what we found was elk and a moose
They were buffalo people but also reasonable people
So we knew that we had to take the animals that came to us.

We made camp that night and began cutting
I reflected on the beautiful Swiss blade that
Frank had given to me,
Wondering how his summer had gone
How things were in his Valley
By night time we were all covered in blood
But had everything cut that we could use
Leaving mostly just the bones
For the wild coyotes and wolves and ravens
That were always around.

We built a makeshift sleigh
That we took turns pulling in twos
It was hard work
But we were in no rush
And had feasted till our hearts content
The night before
On the fresh meat we had
Moon Cow talked about the buffalo a lot
He worried our people wouldn’t have enough food
And Long Arrow agreed, as always
Grunting in his affirmative way.

I asked if they wanted
To go see Amy & Frank
To hunt at their traditional buffalo run
They reminded me it was no use
Unless we moved back to our traditional winter home
That we had been at last year
I asked why that was a bad idea
And they made me understand they disliked the U.S. Army
And also that Mountain Chief had said
We would stay here now
And they didn’t want to go against him.

When we got back, the women were very happy
We had done so well on our hunt
Smoking began at once
This time I was able to build a smoke house by myself
As Moon Cow built the second one
I was proud when he came over to inspect it
And had nothing to say bad about it
Giving his nod of approval
As he poked at the holes
And casually patched them
With his skilled hands.

I talked to Mountain Chief about Winter
About how he felt his people were prepared
He said he believed everybody had a good hunt
As we looked around and saw all the smoke houses
Filling the camp with mouth watering smells
I asked him if he thought about the buffalo run
And he said: “Of course,” as he pointed to his inner arm
Making a motion of cutting it
Showing me it was in his blood
I could not guess the pain he felt
Not being able to lead his people
Where his people had always gone.

part XXXVI

Moon at Midnight – Part IV (day 1978)

(part III)

As I sat crosslegged in the little clearing
Hidden as I was, deep within the forest
Heading East to the land of the Old People
I wondered about the faces I might see,
Faces of the men and women who would greet me,
Faces of the children playing in fields
And fields growing with the vigor
Only well cared for fields of tender hands can grow
I knew I would find
In the land of the Old People.

Beside me was a little patch of buttercups
That skirted the edge of deeper forest
Fallen logs and fir needles of this land
I could still hear the brook I had crossed
Calmly gurgling in the distance
My canteen still cold from its fill
My belly still churning from its fill
My fingers still wet and a cold
Only fresh mountain water can give,
A cleaning happily taken
Where I had let my bare feet soak gently a while.

My eyes scanned into the forest
Of an age I guessed ageless
Not a stump to be seen
Finding geometry in naturally fallen trees
Trees standing so tall my guess couldn’t reach
Moss covering so gently
I envisioned the industry nestled
Deep within the safety net of moss
That lay about thickly covered forest floor
Fungus’ mycelia layer hidden well
In healthy circles around the Ancient Giants
Old Man’s Beard hanging low
And spider webs zig-zagging
With its delicate fibers of care.

My pouch was always on me
No matter how far from camp I wandered
So as I moved away from my opening
I felt instinctively for my tools
Stepping over former soldiers
Rotting as life continued its circle
Through the efforts of decay
My soft crunch avoided the mounds
Finding edible mushrooms was easy
This early season of harvest
Upon edges of clearings I’d find strawberries
And blueberries and salmonberry brambles
So thick I’d get high
Feeding so heartily on such sugar
I knew it wouldn’t stay forever.

Fire starting was an economy no man could do without
No sane man that is,
For plenty of nights I’d been cold
In pure darkness of deep night,
But this night I had supple moss
And accessible wood dry enough to start
A warming dance in my blood
Soon the coals were hotter then the wood
That burned inside their whispers

My bed was simply a roll
The hard ground was something I was used to
I carried soft fur of a bear
On the top of my bag
Which I’d lay under my roll
To soften each night’s cold
My dream of a sheepskin
I had read about in books
Of old foreign herdsmen roaming
Highlands of Scotland
But I with my simple roll
Laid out on the ground.

part V

20151015-shawnigan-lake-ned-tobin-27

Dusty Boulders (day 1857)

Take this blood and run it along an irregular line from here to there, for there is no longer a fountain of youth screaming for more sticks and balls; left for dead there is only a pulse of electricity surging away into a stream of monotony.

But where does each screaming echo fall?

Twisting it’s way through sandstone crevices along a dried river basin, footsteps led aimlessly uphill in search of a higher plateau that might offer a view of the future, or lead to a three feet wide round door of periscope and a three strands of hemp rope holding a dangling sign that read: “Welcome. Please come in.”

If all was lost, there would be no now, for now is not lost as a pinch can accost.

While large maple leaves unfurled to beckon in the Summer, a slow and sweet amulet of sweat rested nicely between the bosom of naked pixie, casually watching the dried river splash over dusty boulders.

Candle That’s Lit (day 1799)

Your impatience drew blood
From the now leaking holes of my breastplate,
And this is our end?
How could these eyes turn off
A candle that’s lit so,
Illuminating for me intricacies
That collect at the feet of my worship
To become the fodder of
My stumbling blocks?
So shall again, I honor thy wish
To a sacrifice I never knew I could make,
A line I thought I could ignore.