And a merry Louis Riel Day to you too!!
Happy Louis Riel Day Manitobans!
~ And a beautiful Family Day to the rest of the country – except for our poor poor friends in BC who have to be at work/school today!!!
So in celebration of the day – I will post a poem I finished recently and read at the last Aboriginal Writers Collective circle this past Thursday at St. John’s Library. The poem is a little “angry halfbreed” of me – I tend to do that – but posted here with happy thoughts to all!
~
when Louis Riel went crazy
after the Red River Rebellion of 1869
Louis Riel went crazy, he ran off and hid
in a bush along the Seine, a land that jutted
out into the stream, a place
everyone called Vermette’s point, a thick
mass of thin trees, next to a narrow
slot of ploughed land, and a meek
farm house, a brief place, nondescript
but the prideful home of my great –
great uncle and aunt
Riel stayed there a month, a long
month when the spring
spread out slowly
separating him from his “crimes”
and my aunt left food at the bush’s edge
for him, bannock lard and meat on an old tin plate
a meal for a dog, or
a “rebel”
something he would have to hurry to
so the foxes didn’t get there first
some say that’s where Louis took
the name David, where in
his cold, hungry penitence
God spoke to him, gave him
his divine purpose
and a middle name
when Louis Riel was hanged in 1885
my great-great uncle had no land, Manitoba
had become a province, and Canadian
surveyors came in, Métis
farms were dissected,
bisected, halved, quartered,
over and over again until
nothing was left, only
a square to balance one foot on
for only one second
before they all fell over
Ottawa took it all by then, all
those half breed homesteads, ribbon lots not
“properly bought” were sold, and my
ancestral uncle’s home was pulled
up from under him like a rug, a rug
rolled up from the river’s edge all the way
to the road, tucked under
Canada’s collective arm
and chucked on a eastbound train
with all the other rugs, all the other
rolled up land that became tidy
cylindrical tokens, conquered
presents to be presented
to John A, nothing more than
rolled up grass like pressed cigars
he lit up and smoked
til they were spent
there is still a place called Vermette, just
southeast of Winnipeg, land locked but
not far from the river Seine, it has
a postal code, a store and a sign because
they let us use the names of our dead
as if that means
we’re allowed to honour them
and we do not forget our dead, we know
where they are and sometimes, we pull
them out of the ground like relics
we brush them off and wonder
at their possibility, like rotting bulbs of some
rare and fragile orchid, we tend to them
all winter and put them back
into the earth come spring with nothing
more tangible than hope to
make them flower
our names are scattered
seeds all over this
mother land, fathers’ names
sons’ names
Ritchot
Beliveau
Beaupre
just words long lost of meaning
Dumont
Desjarlais
Debuc
Leduc
south side street signs, markers
Tourenne
Turenne
Traverse
Trembley
this city is a graveyard
Guimond
Guiboche
Guibault
Gautier
my conquered people, these
children of bereft sons who
once thought themselves so grande
they had the nerve to create
a province
Carriere
Charriere
Chartrand
Cote
dead names breathing
thin dusty life
and Riel
Riel
everywhere Riel
we are intertwined within
this city, as if we belong
as if we are honoured
~
Katherena Vermette
Thank you, Katherena. You said it so well… and you have a right to be ‘angry métis’
Sorry I didn’t make it to the St. John’s library last Thurs. (I was too nesh to venture out in the blizzard!)
A blessed Louis Riel Day.
from Jocelyn
thanks so much for your evocative words, Katherena…
congratulations to you debbie!!! i just heard – third prize in the cv2 contest right?? way to go!!!!!
Thanks for your good wishes, Kate. I’m so excited! I was hoping to see you all tonight at the tribute, but unfortunately I’m sick. I wouldn’t want to be a distraction by coughing my way through the evening. Hope I’m well enough to attend your event on March 10…