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Navajo Stories by Johnny Rustywire Blog | johnrustywire.blogspot.com Reviews
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life from the Navajo Rez as I see it...
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Navajo Johnny Rustywire Stories Blog: The Road Leads Away From Home...
http://johnrustywire.blogspot.com/2014/04/the-road-leads-away-from-home.html
Navajo Johnny Rustywire Stories Blog. Life from the Navajo Rez as I see it. Thursday, April 24, 2014. The Road Leads Away From Home. The times are hard and the long walk is a part of life…. It was on the road to Shiprock, the narrow trail of black asphalt that winds it's way to the horizon, along this path over time the footsteps and sound of horses have been muffled by the wind and sage. Waiting to go school before the early light of day,. Watching the sun rise and set. Where does it go? Twin Heroes, si...
Navajo Johnny Rustywire Stories Blog: Nahgebah...
http://johnrustywire.blogspot.com/2014/04/nahgebah.html
Navajo Johnny Rustywire Stories Blog. Life from the Navajo Rez as I see it. Thursday, April 24, 2014. How do you say Nah- Ge- Bah? The Ge has a G sound) It was the time of year for joy and thanksgiving, but Ashie was concerned about how to make payments on this months bills, and with Christmas coming there was not enough money to cover the rent even, and there still was the light bill to go. The old white guy could move pretty good when he wanted to. He asked Ashie, “What is your cell number? If he had a...
Navajo Johnny Rustywire Stories Blog: December 2009
http://johnrustywire.blogspot.com/2009_12_01_archive.html
Navajo Johnny Rustywire Stories Blog. Life from the Navajo Rez as I see it. Wednesday, December 23, 2009. Heading to the big city full of lights and all those cars. I wonder. Where they all go, how they live and what they do, so many people. And each one stays someplace and they have to work somewhere and. I unloaded the trunk and put the air conditioner in the storage shed. Links to this post. An indian mother and her three kids on the road. She came in and said, i am working today. Tell me where you co...
Navajo Johnny Rustywire Stories Blog: November 2009
http://johnrustywire.blogspot.com/2009_11_01_archive.html
Navajo Johnny Rustywire Stories Blog. Life from the Navajo Rez as I see it. Tuesday, November 24, 2009. Remembering the way it was. Remembering the way it was…. I dreamed I stood with my grandson, I am an old man and we came to my pot on this mountain top. I have been here many times and with me, all those that have come before have taken a little of their vision and shared it with me. Rambling talk of an old man. He looked at me and said, I can't see it. I can not see so clearly, but I know it is th...
Navajo Johnny Rustywire Stories Blog: Yahdahlah
http://johnrustywire.blogspot.com/2014/04/yahdahlah.html
Navajo Johnny Rustywire Stories Blog. Life from the Navajo Rez as I see it. Thursday, April 24, 2014. Yahdahlah-there is no groceries, no grub, what we going to eat? Don't know Chei, we got no more food. Yahdahlah, no potatoes, no beans, no flour.what is there to eat. There are some noodles in there, those old kind, old fashioned ones. The old man won't go in to the place, won't take any handouts, won't go to any churches, or relief agencies, either, he won't ask for anybody's help. The cold winds blow a...
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chimEra / saaniidotcom: Dead Gray Bird
http://saaniidotcom.blogspot.com/2014/08/my-ears-heard-it-last-week.html
Navajo poet from NW new mexico. My ears heard it last week. And my eyes widened,. And my pupils dilated with fear unconsciously. Ice shards crystallized instantaneously through my heart. My trachea and esophagus spasm-ed, shuddered. My lungs steeped in warm saline. Sodden tea bags, flavor faded and washed from the desiccated leaves. My ears heard it,. But my brain refused to believe it. Override. Override. Override. Not until yesterday did my neurons register and process the horrific information. You do ...
chimEra / saaniidotcom: August 2015
http://saaniidotcom.blogspot.com/2015_08_01_archive.html
Navajo poet from NW new mexico. Yesterday time was measured by the. Speed of tears running down my face. Exhalation. Removing toxins. Yesterday was a day on Venus. Minutes hobbled by on creaky wooden crutches. Super heated air trickled in. I finished reading a book and re-read interesting sections. I tried to lose myself in music on Pandora. I tried to lose myself in my favorite movies. Meditation was my only recourse. Marinate in the time alone. Back to the basics. Yesterday I lost my muse.
chimEra / saaniidotcom: August 2014
http://saaniidotcom.blogspot.com/2014_08_01_archive.html
Navajo poet from NW new mexico. My ears heard it last week. And my eyes widened,. And my pupils dilated with fear unconsciously. Ice shards crystallized instantaneously through my heart. My trachea and esophagus spasm-ed, shuddered. My lungs steeped in warm saline. Sodden tea bags, flavor faded and washed from the desiccated leaves. My ears heard it,. But my brain refused to believe it. Override. Override. Override. Not until yesterday did my neurons register and process the horrific information. T’...
chimEra / saaniidotcom: April 2015
http://saaniidotcom.blogspot.com/2015_04_01_archive.html
Navajo poet from NW new mexico. My father taught me to recognize. The faint jangled vibrato discord of a spent incandescent bulb. He saved these bulbs so that he could teach me to darn my socks. He didn’t use the same needles that my mother used. He didn’t use the same thread. He sang and whistled. He asked me what I was doing. When I wore holes through my wool socks. Wandering along the gray irrigation ditch road. Carrying a stick. Followed by my mutts. Smooth river pebbles. Melt from the glass. I used ...
chimEra / saaniidotcom
http://saaniidotcom.blogspot.com/2015/04/wool-socks-my-father-taught-me-to.html
Navajo poet from NW new mexico. My father taught me to recognize. The faint jangled vibrato discord of a spent incandescent bulb. He saved these bulbs so that he could teach me to darn my socks. He didn’t use the same needles that my mother used. He didn’t use the same thread. He sang and whistled. He asked me what I was doing. When I wore holes through my wool socks. Wandering along the gray irrigation ditch road. Carrying a stick. Followed by my mutts. Smooth river pebbles. Melt from the glass. I used ...
chimEra / saaniidotcom: October 2014
http://saaniidotcom.blogspot.com/2014_10_01_archive.html
Navajo poet from NW new mexico. Drama at the laundromat. The laundromat is not the place to have emotions. At a laundromat, any emotion is interpreted as drama. Sit silently and watch the rotating metal drum spin your clothes. Slosh Wash away memories. Whir. Rinse away pain. Bzzz. Spin away heartache. It's best to quietly admire and acknowledge the water jets flooding the detergent tray. Minutes digitally ticking down to zero. Until you are no longer interested. No longer care. Gaww-dammit!
chimEra / saaniidotcom
http://saaniidotcom.blogspot.com/2015/03/loneliness-hi-i-smiled.html
Navajo poet from NW new mexico. 8221; I smiled. Step on a calculated concrete crack. Come on—let’s go get a burger.”. If he had been a few hours earlier. And had chosen something vegetarian or pescatarian. Maybe we wouldn’t now both be lonely. But, as it now stands. We are both the 1/10th. Unholy 1/10th never mentioned in gasoline prices. We are only visible when we congregate in unfortunate and unwieldy clots. We are the spit out lime rinds. Fragrant, but inedible. We are the bits of salt unlicked.
chimEra / saaniidotcom: Drama at the laundromat
http://saaniidotcom.blogspot.com/2014/10/the-laundromat-is-not-place-to-have.html
Navajo poet from NW new mexico. Drama at the laundromat. The laundromat is not the place to have emotions. At a laundromat, any emotion is interpreted as drama. Sit silently and watch the rotating metal drum spin your clothes. Slosh Wash away memories. Whir. Rinse away pain. Bzzz. Spin away heartache. It's best to quietly admire and acknowledge the water jets flooding the detergent tray. Minutes digitally ticking down to zero. Until you are no longer interested. No longer care. Gaww-dammit!
chimEra / saaniidotcom
http://saaniidotcom.blogspot.com/2012/01/oneword-collar-colored-wax-scrubbed.html
Navajo poet from NW new mexico. Colored wax scrubbed enthusiastically. Frozen over dried stereotypic leaves. I didn't know I was supposed to remove. The little plastic collar stays. When it was time to iron. Sand washed over hands shoved firmly. Into bell tails, containing sips of ocean. This is really pretty! All the poems you post are spectacular! PARABÉNS AMEI , OLHA DÁ UMA OLHADA NO MEU, SUA VISÃO É EMOCIONAL É INCRIVEL. sidenyk.blogspot.com dIÁRIO DE UM PENSADOR. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom).
chimEra / saaniidotcom
http://saaniidotcom.blogspot.com/2015/03/life-aaaahhhh-life.html
Navajo poet from NW new mexico. You are a mysterious and enchanting mistress and sister. I kiss your smooth hands and cheeks. I gaze gently with so many questions into your dark eyes. Life, you are simultaneously the goddess I worship. And the demon that haunts and hunts me. Only you, Life, can wring and shred my heart with challenges and strife,. But still caress my soul with a touch as distilled as bird’s whisper, a butterfly’s sigh. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). View my complete profile.
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John Whitney Rust, Jr. – In memory of John Whitney Rust, Jr.
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Navajo Stories by Johnny Rustywire Blog
Navajo Stories by Johnny Rustywire Blog. Life from the Navajo Rez as I see it. Saturday, September 2, 2017. It was the end of summer and in the next few weeks school was. Starting. Some of the kids on the rez had to travel many miles away. To buy clothes for school. For some there was no money for such. There was this one Navajo woman, Chrissy's mother, and she lived a. Couple of miles off the dirt road across a small arroyo (a canyon). The city lights and streets of Gallup, finding comfort in the taste.
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John Ruth - New Zealand Artist & Painter
New Zealand Artist and Painter. John Ruth - Artist Profile. I hope this will give you a taste of some of my art and what inspires me. John Ruth lives and works in Hawkes Bay, New Zealand. 1970 Accepted at Elam School of Fine Arts, Auckland. 1970’s Exhibited in NZ Academy Exhibitions in Wellington. 1984 Saw his first major solo exhibition at the Hastings Cultural Centre (now the Hawkes Bay Exhibition Centre). 1985 Joined “Spectrum” art group and exhibited with them for several years. 2009 “Seascapes...
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Coffee Brewing Ratio Calculator. Coffee Brewing Ratio Calculator. August 05, 2015. I don't know if I can avoid watching this movie. I keep thinking of. SNL's land shark skits. #houseshark. August 05, 2015. Side Project: 'I Want Horror'. July 03, 2015. I've been working on a side project to display a list of 'now playing' horror movies and tv shows. Here's a sample of the mobile view as it currently looks. July 03, 2015. June 24, 2015. June 24, 2015. June 04, 2015. June 04, 2015. May 22, 2015. May 22, 2015.
