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| Kimberly Blaeser, f. 1955 (Photo from Poetry Foundation) |
***
Kimberly Blaeser passar väl in mellan de afrikanska poeterna eftersom även hon använder sig av en sorts muntligt berättande i sin poesi. Boken inleds med ett poetiskt "släktträd" och det avslöjar att Kimberly har tyskt och indianskt påbrå.
Flera av dikterna är väldigt långa. Min favorit "Boundaries" är uppdelad i sex avsnitt. I den ges en exklusiv beskrivning av en naturupplevelse. Jag ger er de första tre stroferna.
Boundaries (first half), by Kimberly Blaeser
(from Apprenticed to justice : poems. Cambridge, U.K. : Salt Pub., 2007.)
Frontispiece:
Her white chest lifted from the water
wings spread and poised
on the loon edge of song dance or flight.
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| Svartnäbbad islom (en symbol för både Minnesota och Kanada) |
Ballet in endless acts:
Paddling a small bay on the Kawishiwi
River, we watch the four figures -
checker-backed and web-footed -
glide in classical lines through the waters
their slick feathers glimming
as they swim or drop like sinkers in a dive
turning beaks and bodies with an instinct
of actors in a centuries-old drama.
Costume sketches:
Stark black and white checks repeat
diminish in intricate optical illusion
over the curve of tha back
reappear wavering in the water's reflection.
Black bill and hyperbolic forehead
sweep towards delicately striped neck.
Intense beads of red dot the black head,
form doll-like eyes.
Dusky chicks hover
only a pencil sketch or poorly imprinted copy.
Faded shades of grays
check the back
under the disappearing down of the young.
***
Kimberly Blæser växte upp inom the White Earth Reservation i Minnesota av föräldrar med Anishinaabe och tysk härkomst. Hon är medlem i Minnesotas Chippewastam. Blaeser arbetade som journalist innan hon disputerade vid University of Notre Dame.
Hennes dikter erbjuder intima inblickar i livet för de studieartade karaktärerna som är sprungna ur indianernas liv och kultur. Källa: Poetry Foundation
Drawing breath, by Kimberly Blaeser
(from Apprenticed to justice : poems. Cambridge, U.K. : Salt Pub., 2007.)
There is no purgatory like poetry
that won't be written
into stanzas lines words
that won't fashion some
catch between knowledge
and desire
between the cold cash of meaning
and the questions feathered
across my back
the small static contact
lifting the hair on my arms.
No one reads to me anymore.
At fifteen he still holds his finger
in the book
on the very page where we left off.
Nothing beckons like story withheld.
Something beyond that point
where dusk blue wavers
between mist and rain,
that faint animal calling
persistent yet indistinct,
something that slips
almost off the shoulder.
Not anticipation
or remembrance
but the very point
of any turning
as if
it weren't
a fine line
but infinite
in its thinness.
Not meaning
but almost,
not saying,
but the breath before.
***
Den avslutande dikten bär tydliga kännetecken på Kimberly Blaesers indianska ursprung. Den riktar sig dessutom till unga studenter vid en skola i Milwaukee.
The things I know (två strofer), by Kimberly Blaeser
(from Apprenticed to justice : poems. Cambridge, U.K. : Salt Pub., 2007.)
for Milwaukee Indian Community School Students
I.
Just pay attention
to the way your hands move
in rhythm with your legs,
the way rabbits
multiply to the seventh year
and caribou change their migrations
following the food cycle,
and remember
how every part of creation
has relationship and rhythm
and walk that way if you can.
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| Public art sculpture, Riverwest Milwaukee |
II.
Say to yourself this one thing:
Go on tiptoe and don't talk.
Then hush your thundering words
let them leave you
receding like footfalls
on sodden grasses of pilgrim ways,
until you learn stillness
and feel the butterfly flutterings
of matter against spirit,
light on water and water on light,
color changing to color changing
to change.
