Valerie Kameroff

Grandmother Poems

Standing

She is taking up her fire

bringing her Self

to dance in the glow

of her rhythm.

Rising to her feet

with magic in her hand

She quit asking.

She quit begging.

The moon has slanted.

The balance is here.

She is taking up her

Heaviness,

this new offering

to her Grandmothers

to her Children.

The Song is flowing rich now.

The Creator whispers.

We are all here

Now.

We are all here.

__________

Grandmother

Grandmother The Old One

she shuffles close beside me

speaking softly repeating secrets

of the Long Ago and of the Healing.

She sits in front

of my slouched body

peering into me

chanting The Ancient Song

Of Life.

Draped in brown cray paper skin

her hands tend the seal oil lamp

so that I may see

when I care to open my eyes.

Young and stubborn

I cling to struggle as a lover.

She touches my young hair

whispering Un guck gook.

All my life her deep voice

from Ages and Generations

The Old Woman Un guck gook

Medicine Woman.

She is patient

and waits

for my heart

to listen.

__________

How Grandmother Speaks

Something happened

then, I lost the place

I put it.

Something says Something

then leaves.

Some Words

Hang in the bowl

of my stomach

then disappear

only hinting

when they will

bring their sisters

so I can eat

and talk about

this Magic

so I can ask

What’s happening to me?

Of what has been taken

Of my mother?

Here I surround myself

with cigarettes, caffeine,

books, and excuses

for the rent.

This Magic

this Miracle

struggling for its

own survival

steals thoughts

begs for a moment

of my time.

I can not turn myself again

to the place

where the souls

of my feet

will gather

ashes

and

dust.

__________

Motherland

This is my Motherland.

This is the Womb.

She has cradled me

and all of my Ancestors.

She carries the basket

Full

of our memories

together.

I will stand

Here

in front of Everyone

and sing

loudly

my birth song

the one she sent

from the water.

I will stand

Here

in her wounds

from screeching steel

and cement

you have called gifts.

I will stand

and sing

My blood

is

Her blood.

__________

Myself – An Ancient Memory

On this ground

I have swayed

in silences

the trees

remembering my brown hands

pulsating drums.

I can hear them

in the far off distance

with my eyes closed

to the street lamps.

My vibrations

have taken shape

and solidified in my bones.

I am the miracle

my ancestors have concentrated

into being

a solid truth

listening.

__________

Lofty Expectations

I

gathered

myself

among the trees

today

cross-legged

holding

my Breath

listening

for their message.

“Nothing Urgent,”

they laughed.

We

just wanted

to see your

brown hair.

Biography:

Valerie Kameroff , a Yupik Eskimo woman from Alaska, had the freshest most radiant smile. Val studied for a time at Dartmouth, read at Stanford, and came back to Alaska where she performed her poems with the Wild Women’s Poetry Ensemble. Val died at the age of 28, a loss to us all. After she died her family came to my workplace and handed me an envelop with her hand written poems, “Do something with these.” Every few years I publish them on the web. Val’s voice is strong and tender and needed. On the second anniversary of her death she came to me in a dream and said, “Now I know that everything is made of nothing but love -remember this.” I leave you with these words. Remember them. – Barbara Flaherty