#n scott momaday
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favourite poems of december
a.r. ammons collected poems: 1951-1971: "dunes"
jennifer robertson shrill shirts will always balloon
n. scott momaday in the presence of the sun: stories and poems, 1961-1991: "the delight song of tsoai-talee"
ted berrigan the collected poems of ted berrigan: "bean spasms"
natalie diaz when my brother was an aztec: "abecedarian requiring further examination of anglikan seraphym subjugation of a wild indian rezervation"
greg miller watch: "river"
joanna klink excerpts from a secret prophecy: "terrebonne bay"
dorothy dudley pine river bay
brenda shaughnessy our andromeda: "our andromeda"
frank lima incidents of travel in poetry: "orfeo"
lehua m. taitano one kind of hunger
no'u revilla kino
linda hogan when the body
paul verlaine one hundred and one poems by paul verlaine: a biligual edition: "moonlight" (tr. norman r. shapiro)
mahmoud darwish the butterfly's burden: "the cypress broke" (tr. fady joudah)
mahmoud darwish the butterfly's burden: "your night is of lilac"
amir rabiyah prayers for my 17th chromosome: "our dangerous sweetness"
sara nicholson the living method: "the end of television"
charles shields proposal for a exhibition
ginger murchison a scrap of linen, a bone: "river"
tsering wangmo dhompa virtual
anne carson the beauty of the husband: "v. here is my propaganda one one one one oneing on your forehead like droplets of luminous sin"
muriel rukeyser the collected poems of muriel rukeyser: "the book of the dead"
anne stevenson stone milk: "the enigma"
david tomas martinez love song
robert fitzgerald charles river nocturne
thomas mcgrath the movie at the end of the world: collected poems: "many in the darkness"
linda rodriguez heart's migration: "the amazon river dolphin"
donald revell the glens of cithaeron
sumita chakraborty dear, beloved
angela jackson and all these roads be luminous: "miz rosa rides the bus"
kofi
#tbr#poetry#poetry list#tbr list#ar ammons#collected poems: 1951-1971#collected poems#a.r. ammons#dunes#jennifer robertson#shrill shirts will always balloon#n. scott momaday#n scott momaday#in the presence of the sun#the delight song of tsoai-talee#ted berrigan#the collected poems of ted berrigan#bean spasms#natalie diaz#when my brother was an aztec#abecedarian requiring further examination of anglikan seraphym subjugation of a wild indian rezervation#angela jackson#miz rosa rides the bus#and all these roads be luminous#ginger murchison#greg miller#watch#dorothy dudley#pine river bay#robert fitzgerald
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“To Momaday, words are sacred; language is power. Spanning nearly fifty years, the poems included in this collection illuminate the human condition, Momaday’s connection to his Kiowa roots, and his spiritual relationship to the American landscape.”
#godzilla reads#the death of sitting bear#n scott momaday#poetry books#book blog#reading#currently reading#booklr#bookworm#bookish
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Coyotes have the gift of seldom being seen; they keep to the edge of vision and beyond, loping in and out of cover on the plains and highlands. And at night, when the whole world belongs to them, they parley at the river with the dogs, their higher, sharper voices full of authority and rebuke. They are an old council of clowns, and they are listened to.
― N Scott Momaday, House Made of Dawn (1968)
[Robert Scott Horton]
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Once in his life a man ought to concentrate his mind upon the remembered earth, I believe. He ought to give himself up to a particular landscape in his experience, to look at it from as many angles as he can, to wonder about it, to dwell upon it. He ought to imagine that he touches it with his hands at every season and listens to the sounds that are made upon it. He ought to imagine the creatures there and all the faintest motions of the wind. He ought to recollect the glare of noon and all the colors of the dawn and dusk.
N. Scott Momaday, The Way To Rainy Mountain
#book quotes#native american#books and libraries#literature#nature#nature quotes#walking in nature#books and reading#n Scott momaday#wisdom#Native American literature#nature writing
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Kiowa poet N. Scott Momaday 🌹 (1968)
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I am a feather on the bright sky
I am the blue horse that runs in the plain
I am the fish that rolls, shining, in the water
I am the shadow that follows a child
I am the evening light, the lustre of meadows
I am an eagle playing with the wind
I am a cluster of bright beads
I am the farthest star
I am the cold of dawn
I am the roaring of the rain
I am the glitter on the crust of the snow
I am the long track of the moon in a lake
I am a flame of four colors
I am a deer standing away in the dusk
I am a field of sumac and the pomme blanche
I am an angle of geese in the winter sky
I am the hunger of a young wolf
I am the whole dream of these things
You see, I am alive, I am alive
I stand in good relation to the earth
I stand in good relation to the gods
I stand in good relation to all that is beautiful
I stand in good relation to the daughter of Tsen-tainte
You see, I am alive, I am alive
//The Delight Song of Tsoai-talee By M Scott Momaday
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The oral tradition is inestimably older than writing, but fragile--I thought I'd better write down whatever stories I could find or they'd be lost.
N. Scott Momaday. Paris Review, ‘The Art of Poetry No. 112′
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"The Delight Song of Tsoai-talee" Read by N. Scott Momaday #shorts
University of California Televison
A couple of short excerpts from his marvelous poem and so lovely to hear his voice. The Poetry Foundation has the poem to read. The wonderful gift of this poem for me is that upon hearing it, and despite the mess and tangle that's my life, I can imagine a Delight Song of me.
On January 24, 2024 N. Scott Momaday walked on.
Longtime UA Prof. N. Scott Momaday, first Native winner of Pulitzer Prize for fiction, dead at 89
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N. Scott Momaday: House Made of Dawn
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A poem by N. Scott Momaday
The Snow Mare
In my dream, a blue mare loping,
Pewter on a porcelain field, away.
There are bursts of soft commotion
Where her hooves drive in the drifts,
And as dusk ebbs on the plane of night,
She shears the web of winter,
And on the far, blind side
She is no more. I behold nothing,
Wherein the mare dissolves in memory,
Beyond the burden of being.
N. Scott Momaday
Image: Snow Mare by J. Macneill-traylor
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Yahweh to Urset
I pray that you are kept safe throughout this day, that
you live as wholly as you can, that you see things that
you have not seen before and that more of them are
beautiful than not, more of them delightful than not.
I pray that you hold easily in your hands the balance
of the earth and sky, that you laugh and cry, know
freedom and restraint, some joy and some sorrow,
pleasure and pain, much of life and a little of death.
I pray that you are grateful for the gift of your being,
and I pray that you celebrate your life in the proper
way, with grace and humility, wonder and contentment,
in the strong, deep current of your spirit’s voice. I pray
that you are happily in love with the dawn and that you
are more deeply in love in the dusk.
— Navarre S. Momaday
Kiowa novelist and poet, born 1934
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“We imagine and we dream, and we translate our dreams into language. This book is an enactment of that creative process. It is a celebration of words for their own sake.”
—From the Preface in N. Scott Momaday’s Dream Drawings: Configurations of a Timeless Kind
#godzilla reads#dream drawings#n scott momaday#book blog#reading#books and bunnies#poetry books#booklr#bookworm#indigenous authors
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Something like a leaf lies here within me; / it wavers almost not at all, / and there is no light to see it by / that it withers upon a black field. / If it could ascend the thousand years into my mouth, / I would make a word of it at last, / and I would speak it into the silence of the sun.
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N Scott Momaday, a Pulitzer prize-winning storyteller, poet, educator and folklorist whose debut novel House Made of Dawn is widely credited as the starting point for contemporary Native American literature, has died. He was 89. Momaday died on Wednesday at his home in Santa Fe, New Mexico, publisher HarperCollins announced. He had been in failing health.
“Scott was an extraordinary person and an extraordinary poet and writer. He was a singular voice in American literature, and it was an honor and a privilege to work with him,” Momaday’s editor, Jennifer Civiletto, said in a statement. “His Kiowa heritage was deeply meaningful to him and he devoted much of his life to celebrating and preserving Native American culture, especially the oral tradition.” House Made of Dawn, published in 1968, tells of a second world war soldier who returns home and struggles to fit back in, a story as old as war itself: in this case, home is a Native community in rural New Mexico. Much of the book was based on Momaday’s childhood in Jemez Pueblo, New Mexico, and on his conflicts between the ways of his ancestors and the risks and possibilities of the outside world.
“I grew up in both worlds and straddle those worlds even now,” Momaday said in a 2019 PBS documentary. “It has made for confusion and a richness in my life.” Like Joseph Heller’s Catch-22, Momaday’s novel was a second world war story that resonated with a generation protesting the Vietnam war. In 1969, Momaday became the first Native American to win the fiction Pulitzer, and his novel helped launch a generation of authors, including Leslie Marmon Silko, James Welch and Louise Erdrich. His other admirers would range from the poet Joy Harjo, the country’s first Native American to be named poet laureate, to the film stars Robert Redford and Jeff Bridges. “He was a kind of literary father for a lot of us,” Harjo told the Associated Press during a telephone interview on Monday. “He showed how potent and powerful language and words were in shaping our very existence.”
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