Ohkomipan Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Ohkomipan

Like the young man found under a big flat stone
Dead; in our village, undeclared, forgotten
I am crushed under her weightless words
Heavier than a mountain
Heavier than brutalities of five centuries transferred to us
Heavier than the thoughts of the poet

And you; if you read

She is an indigenous; prairie's daughter
Her words hang from belt as did the flesh of her kind
Her words are in wombs as were the semen of the rapists in theirs
Her words are the kind of bullets that pierced into the body of their sons
Her words are like those of the medicine man, the kind one and a straw hat
Her words penetrate through throat of my mind, poisonous for the worms inside
Morphine for pain of my calm, and lullaby to put to sleep the immigrant of this land

Oh you, the wandering soul of the true owner of this land:
"Will you please allow me live here and sleep in the tepee? "

You, the Indian, the savage, the pagan, the aboriginal, the indigenous
And now,
The First Nation
"Will you allow me breathe from your air, drink from your river? "

Hear me all, hear my loud cry
I read her, listen to her and digest every letter, in Cree and other

I am ashamed even if I am innocent

I carry her stories with me like earring on my ear

Can I share your Ohkomipan the long black haired?