Sneak peek of Angsty Asdzáá

Little sneak peek of my new zine, Angsty Asdzáá. I wanted this Zine to be more raw and personal. I hand typed all of my poems and prose in this zine as well, it still has typo’s in it. Flaws and all💖💖💖-AM

Angsty Asdzáá Zine.

Among it all…I finished. A collection of poetry, collages, pictures of my family and prose, all from the lens of an angsty Indigenous womxn. Will be available soon at Palabras Bilingual Bookstore and Wasted Ink Zine DistroAAcoverFINALJPEG

♥ A Tribe Called Red- Sisters♥

The mesa behind Grandma Cowboy’s house

 

Redthedog
Grandma Cowboy’s trusty dog, Red.

It leaves and returns.

The day is hot and windy on top of this Mesa

Juniper trees pop up, sparse

Whiskers on chin and cheek

30 miles north I can see Navajo Mountain, to my right

Past the rusty pink canyons and untarred roads

Equal distance to my left is Black Mesa

A Mesa seen as skin to Diné

But paper greener than Matcha on a cold day

To all the Mr. Peabody’s in the midwest

I hear cowbells in the distance

With old sheep moving it’s puffy chins

To make its presence known

Then grandma gets out of her truck

Freshly permed Kinlachiinii hair and Canadian tuxedo

She waltzes to a boarded shed

To dive her chocolate colored fingers

Into lemon colored straw for their feast

I sit on top of the mesa

from here I can tell grandma

Is happy because the sheep

Did not get lost in the canyons and have returned

The sheep take a moment to see the hay

And almost rumba like make their way

sheepatthebottomofthecanyon
Grandma’s sheep at the bottom of the canyon

♥The Chromatics- Runnin up that hill♥

An ode to zine making

bluehorsesPNG

An ode to zine making

Makeshift manifestos and meticulous missions

Hope for a promising praxis

No money? No problem

DIY-do it yourself

 

My zine, my thing

 

Unedited language squeeze out soliloquies

Uncensored, raw dialect

Crunch and slice

Of paper ripping,

letters sinking onto an

Island of paste

 

Dialect of trauma hide

under my fingernails

Ready to be cleansed

By the soap I hold

And this water given to me

 

Wispy cuts of processed tree

transfer one sheet to another

fingers hold a stick of glue

Compositions collide

images drip disorder

colloquial concepts confuse sleeping minds

 

Indigenous liberation all in caps

Feminism red as strawberries

Spill on the page like burnt ketchup

Create ocean waves in espresso pupils

Sing like ponderosa’s

On a windy decadent night

 

I create

Tape, scissors, hand

Highlighters hiccup pyranine

Stickers vibrate youth

Salt sprinkled on watercolor paper

Bleed aubergine badlands

 

My finger gently

smooths a page of rage

made with love

not childless

nor unborn

 

My narrative, my nutrient

the paper is my water

I set afloat my words

Among my kind

A homemade delight,

how divine

♥The Julie Ruin-Just my kind♥

Kinłání Crybaby

Even to this day

I am a Kinłání crybaby

A rupture of bigots

Wanting to sell me a golden ticket

All in the while fingers are crossed

Behind their backs

While something lacks

Behind a smile

That wants my autonomy to be

Controlled by their bank

 

I am a Kinłání crybaby

That has grown up

Seeing my transient relatives

Wander the streets

Drinking all our trauma away

Then to read about it

The next day

Exposure, in a cold lonely tunnel

 

Where bottles and bodies

Come and go

By the Wal-mart on

the east side of town

There are nights, I worry

My brother, himself, will have

A 10 word description laid out

In the local daily scum

He was someone’s son

They will not say

 

Bilagaana’s probably wonder

“Why is she such a Flagstaff crybaby?!”

We acknowledge them now

But do they?

 

Do they know they are a guest among Doko’oosliid?*

A female mountain whose presence tells us

Hozho is not just a word but a way of life

 

Snowbirds, they say, outsiders, come every year

To trample on snow that was not meant to be

Instead they ask

“Why are you crying?”

The American way tells us

Home is everywhere

And we are a guest nowhere

 

This Kinłání crybaby

says you’re a guest, yes

But what is a guest among the sacred to you?

 

♥Solange- Mad♥

*Kinłání- literal translation is many houses or Flagstaff, AZ

*Doko’oosliid- Abalone Shell Mountain or the San Francisco peaks in Flagstaff, AZ

Daughters of the Glittering World*revised

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Daughters of the Glittering World

***

Rivers of ignorance disjoint

In the Yellow World

Where a river of pride divided

Altsé hastiin, First Man

 and Altsé asdzáá, First Woman

      A disheartening division      

     

In this Glittering World

Shiny sons we were meant to bear

Our men tell us to learn

“But don’t get too smart”

Be a leader

“But you can’t lead your people”

 

Sometimes, I feel the water

at my feet

Is the river coming back?

Or is this all in my mind?

 

Is education

forming these rivers

between my unborn

Kinłichii’nii babies

and their father?

Or is it ignorance?

 

These colonized times

have made the

violent waters run rapid

Swept away

our culture and language

 

Leaving heirloom

lands naked

then overruled

by knotted weeds

 

However, the daughters

of the glittering world

Hold the tools

To weed out our sorrows

Sow the seeds of the forgotten ones

And Germinate love, once lost

 

We are the daughters of the glittery world

Rest assured we may sulk and sigh for our

Loved ones

Our Resilient Roots

Are strong enough for any Sadistic Storm

Or Raging River

                                                                           So bring the water

 

For we are the daughters of the glittering world

                                                                                              And we know who we live for

***

♥You look so good in love- George Strait♥