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![Profile picture of Fia Naturie]()
Thank you , Atticus;))
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![Profile picture of Visions_of_Insanity]()
A wonderful piece of poetry Fia. This one hits home, literally.
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![Profile picture of Fia Naturie]()
Thank you, Vision;))
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![Profile picture of Willow]()
Yeah…so much said in this. My daughter talks of not belonging anywhere. She’s not Mexican enough for that side of her genealogy and not white enough for the other. Never accepted in either. This cataloging of labels in a stolen land is mind boggling and saddening to me
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![Profile picture of Damian DeadLove]()
Powerfully penned, Fia. This excellent write tells it like it is my friend. Amazingly done as always. Appreciate you, cuz.
Damian
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![Profile picture of Fia Naturie]()
Fia Naturie posted in the group National Poetry Month
My Land
I was told this was home
I was given it on silver plater
They fail to tell me that I would have to steal itWords written on paper was crafted beautifully
Penmanship to die for
That was it…
The hidden messageTo die for
I can not take what is not mine
Can land really be mine
The oil and coal pillage from m…Read More2 Comments-
![Profile picture of redzone]()
In Indigenous culture and belief, no one owns the land, we inherit it and are part of it and must share and protect it, leaving it in better shape for future generations. I think this is a much better culture, belief, and morality than what we have in today’s world. I like your poem because it points to this kind of understanding. A very fitting…Read More
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![Profile picture of Fia Naturie]()
Thank you Curtis;))
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![Profile picture of twofiftythree]()
twofiftythree posted in the group National Poetry Month
the willin fool
you place the blade
in my hand
and somethin in your voice
makes it feel right
somethin given just to me
b/c I earned itand I…
dumb enough to believe you…
hold it careful
watchin the light settle
along the surface
before bringin it to my mouth
slow
draggin my tongue
along the edge
tastin what you pro…Read More -
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![Profile picture of Curly Grace]()
Curly Grace posted in the group National Poetry Month
Echoes in Quiet Corners
Madness
in the quiet corners
of my skin,
a current of heat
beneath words,
beneath breath.It winds
around me
like a labyrinth:
walls soft,
shadowed,
doors whisper
echoes.Still,
I do not follow.I gather
myself
from the noise,
from storms
brushing
against my name,
and cradle
the ember
that…Read More![]()
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Simple…but so emotional. Good one, Fia.