A collection of poems by Jessie MacKenzie

I’m proud to present of beautiful collection of poems by Jessie Mackenzie from Yellowknife’s Dene First Nation.
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Jessie’s poetry is powerful and capable of evoking a strong emotional response, quite a feat considering this is her first time submitting her work to anyone!
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Yati ======>:.

A riddle of knots, untying bondage from a hole in the ground.
Upheaval of necessity, for lifelines. Things hidden below - it’s so vague now a lot of us did not have the chance to forget.
Because we never knew.
Sometimes their mouths allow them to speak, paying brief visits to the past.
But the story is not complete, and never, ever finished.
You only get half.
And who am I to finish it? A responsibility feared greater than yourself.
Trusting that we will figure it out and uncover the answers and not waste or contort
The translations.
Willing to apply them correctly when we have been living backwards almost all our lives. He says:
“That’s all for now. Ask me later and I’ll tell you. Write down what I tell you, and what you want to know,
So you won’t forget”.


Krysta ======>:.

She’s Lost on her own land, wandering but not wondering.
Brushing aside help
Historically beautiful, her face is light as birch bark, symmetrical. Hair like coal, but shining below the sun
You gaze into slanted eyes, tumble down into the angriest heart and cannot get out.
Something stirs down there, hope? Ruffling in sync with the autumn leaves, a blowing breeze
Cold off the lake, but not as cold as her.
She claims… that she wants more out of life, with shaking motions of bruised arms, scarred knuckles clenched
The frustration and fear she holds close, closer than me. Not allowing herself to let go..but she must.
Go.
Go or sink, into her demise, a place lower than the bottom of this lake.
I love this woman dearly, as much as I’m capable of.
But I would rather watch her long waited departure
Than anything else.


Pasty======>:.

Pasty paleface bleeding all the colour out for you.
Straight flush of nothing, bad cards dealt.
Queen of hearts was sacrificed at the temple of Doom.
That evil priest uses her body for black magic purposes -
Rekindling great entertainment value when her bones turn to ash in that hot, hot sun.
And the people laugh and the people cheer…still devoted fans of her beauty and carnage.
She will live everlasting as a free agent among the star people.


Jessie Mackenzie, Dene First Nation

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