Clay Pots and Bones

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Authors: Lindsay Marshall

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Clay Pots and Bones

Pka'wo'qq aq Waqntal

Lindsay Marshall

Clay Pots
and Bones

Pka'wo'qq
aq Waqntal

Lindsay Marshall

New Edition

Cape Breton University Press
Sydney, Nova Scotia

Copyright 2014 by Lindsay Marshall.

First edition published 1997.

All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced or used in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or any information storage or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher. Responsibility for the research and the permissions obtained for this publication rests with the authors. Cape Breton University Press recognizes fair dealing uses under the
Copyright Act
(Canada).

Cape Breton University Press recognizes the support of the Province of Nova Scotia, through Film and Creative Industries Nova Scotia, and the support received for its publishing program from the Canada Council for the Arts Block Grants Program. We are pleased to work in partnership with these bodies to develop and promote our cultural resources.

Cover design: Cathy MacLean, Chéticamp, NS.

Cover image: Mi'kmaw hand crafted basket (19th century). Courtesy Mi'kmaq Resource Centre #2012-15-3979, Cape Breton University.

Layout: Laura Bast, Sydney, NS.

eBook development:
WildElement.ca

Marshall, Lindsay, 1960-, author

Clay pots and bones : poems / Lindsay Marshall.

Issued in print and electronic formats.

ISBN 978-1-927492-81-9 (pbk.).--ISBN 978-1-927492-82-6 (pdf).--

ISBN 978-1-927492-83-3 (epub).--ISBN 978-1-927492-84-0 (mobi)

I. Title.

PS8576.A7573C52 2014 C811'.54 C2014-900530-X

C2014-900531-8

Cape Breton University Press

PO Box 5300, 1250 Grand Lake Road

Sydney, NS B1P 6L2 CA

www.cbu.ca/press

To My Father and Brothers

W
hen this book was first published in February 1997, I dedicated it to my father, Thomas Alexander Marshall.

On April 19, 1997, my father passed away, leaving a gap in the lives of his family and all those who knew him.

Two thousand and thirteen has been a very difficult year for me and my family. We lost Gary Thomas Marshall and Stephen Joseph Marshall in February and October respectively.

I dedicate this edition of
Clay Pots and Bones
to the memory of Tommy Marshall, Gary Thomas Marshall and Stephen Joseph Marshall, a memory that will remain forever strong.

The passage below is an excerpt from a poem entitled “Sealing Secrets from All,” which I wrote for my father on his death:

and with a deep breath

that seemed to last forever,

like a wind

arriving on cue with a blessing

he spoke:

“Good Creator,

I am ready.”

The still man lay

surrounded by satin,

a single rose

and a tobacco leaf

sealing secrets from all.

Contents

Gentle Warrior Woman

Hello and Welcome

Kwe' aq Pjila'si

Irony Invades the Few

Visitors

Brown Shoelaces

Alexander Standing in Tall Grass on Chapel Island

Forth and Back

A Man Who Drank Tea nad Told Tales

We Fight His Demons

Over Half a Century Ago

Mi'kmaw Maidens in Distress

Beyond Touch

For David

Your Eyes

They Took Your Word

My German Friend

For J. E. M.

I Scream the Cry

No Match for Steel

Welamsitew

For Ball and Shot

Mainkewin? (Are You Going to Maine?)

Shadows Dancing on the Edge

Ash and Flint Flying as One

Clay Pots and Bones

Dancing, Fasting and Praying

Kluskap and Mi'kmaw

Kluskap Aqq L'Nu

Leather, Stone and Bone

Save the Last Bullet

The Chain Remains Strong

Good Creator

Now It's Your Turn

Questions for Great Grandfather

Matuesuey Kmtin (Porcupine Mountain)

Learned Elder

Fires of the Ancients

Our Nation World

Magic Steps

A Ball of Blue

On the Shore of Bras d'Or

Grey Skies, White Mist

Progress

From Wind and Prying Eyes

Shadow Dancers at Night

One More Night

My Paddle Does Not Sing

The Blackened Hole

The Church of the Council

Once, Only Once

Idling

Tasks and Demands

Our Hearts Were Beating One With Their Drum

Dreams Not Wanted

A Work in Progress

Dance Along the Ghost Highway

Skite'kemujewey Awti

Demasduit

Our Sisters

Foreword to the First Edition

T
he expression of one's culture can take many forms. Lindsay Marshall, in this his first book, has chosen to interpret our Mi'kmaw way of life through his poetry.

Lindsay's message is sometimes clear, as in the poem “Now It's Your Turn,” but oftentimes the message is more cryptic, as in “Save the Last Bullet.”

Although much of the poetry in
Clay Pots and Bones
is very personal, Lindsay manages to express himself in such a way that even the personal has a universal appeal. For instance the poem “To David,” which Lindsay wrote for his son, could apply to my own son or daughter. Likewise, the experiences of Donald Marshall Jr. as related in the moving poem “They Took Your Word,” can be related to the pain and plight of many.

Lindsay sets out to interpret both the past and the present Mi'kmaw way of life, and although true understanding cannot come from one small book of poetry, Lindsay succeeds in defining the essence of his own being, which I believe is the true hallmark of a true poet.

Dr. Peter Christmas, 1997

Former Executive Director

Mi'kmaq Association for Cultural Studies

Acknowledgements

I
would like to thank all my brothers and sisters for their continued support and love; my son David for never failing to be at my side when times have been difficult; a woman with whom I first fell in love in grade 7, whose love sustains me and breathes life into my life. We see the world with new eyes and a brand new perspective. My friend, my partner; my Florie Sutherland.

Petroglyphs

T
he illustrations contained in this book are copies of rock engravings made many years ago by the Mi'kmaq at Lake Kejimkujik in Nova Scotia. These rock drawings are called petroglyphs. They provide for us a graphic glimpse of the customs, beliefs and everyday activities of the traditional Mi'kmaw way of life. They are not intended here to illustrate Lindsay Marshall's poetry but merely to add another dimension to the poet's own interpretation of his Mi'kmaw heritage.

Gentle Warrior Woman

for Dr. Rita Joe

Sleep my gentle woman

Let all know you've won your battles

Using wisdom, spoken words and your gentle soul

You've moved me, taught me and given me

A love of words.

Step into your birch canoe

And push away from shore.

See the whirls as your paddle moves you

across land and water.

The sun in its orange and clear sky

Grows larger as you point your kwitn

Towards our Grandfather the sun.

When you reach the farthest shore

Remember us, speak of us

And pray for us

Gentle Warrior Woman

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