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  1. A Dog With No Tale

    My name is Pamiuq
    it means “dog with no tail”
    I was born in the tundra
    a vast nothingness
    that leads to my feet.

    Only fate can distribute calamity
    and the tundra is full of it.
    It rises like snow drifts in winter
    and sings through blistering winds
    when the midnight sun has disappeared.

    It breaks the very ice you stand on
    into pieces that will drift away
    on the rich sea
    that sustains life.
    I am left to roam
    in search of food
    to sustain life.

    I am not a wise man
    nor one of intelligence.
    My talent is survival
    which I execute daily.
    I understand hunger
    and I understand death.
    Here on the tundra
    this is all we have.

     pt.1

    desolate
    the tundra kills;
    cold and pure
    as it should be.
    fearless, I watch
    as death approaches.

    I lay in a snow drift
    it coddles my body,
    my only wound
    is not knowing.
    so-be-it,
    I cannot care.

    what steps I took
    have gotten me here
    fate; and faith
    shall carry me
    the rest of the way.

    death always moves forward
    from a distance
    it’s a tiny white dot
    on the horizon
    growing in mass,
    devouring the landscape.
    soon it will be here.
    what it leaves behind
    will barely mark the ground.

    Nanook walks in silence
    snorting once in a while
    out of despair; or out of impatience?
    when Nanook arrives
    nothing will matter.

    I shall not interrupt death
    or its intentions.
    I accept
    Nanook’s breath is upon me
    it’s eyes searching for fear
    finding nothing but a void.
    Nanook snorts,
    disappointed.

    You’ve no life to give 
    bland individual
    You’ve no color
    or substance.

    Nanook snorts
    turns away.
    I rise
    and follow death
    across the ice.

    pt.2

    no one questions where death goes
    when darkness arrives
    and cold bites your bones.
    the total sum of our existence
    is revealed in a heartbeat.
    we are all just snowflakes
    falling from the abyss.

    I follow Nanook across the tundra
    blistering snow and howling winds
    strike everything.
    a memory of the midnight sun
    lightens the darkness of my mind. 
    as I mark Nanook’s footprints with my own
    I muse in thought
    does she exist beyond my sight
    and if so, is she thinking of me?

    can I ask a question?
    where do you go when darkness arrives?
    why can I only see you
    in my mind?

    the Midnight sun
    passes through my mind
    falling beyond my reach
    beyond the horizon
    into the darkness.

    pt.3

    fate’s nectar is blood;
    for those seeking to survive
    we forge the landscape
    acting as death’s agent.
    provisional life exists for all
    no matter where we are.

    Nanook moves effortlessly
    until the cavern of lights appears;
    the entrance to the heart of life
    can only be accessed
    at death’s request.

    each of us carries the cavern of life;
    it is in our blind spot
    but only a few
    understand its purpose.

    walls cleaved from ice
    buffed to a glistening sheen
    a millennia of effort
    to reflect one’s disposition.

    pt.4

    life carries life;
    I am nurtured by the vastness
    a place where the midnight sun
    hides her face from those seeking life.
    from the sea of richness, I consume
    killing to sustain my existence
    what falls from my mouth
    others will consume.
    for their own survival.

    my irreverence comes naturally
    for how could it not
    being born of the tundra?
    my only inheritance
    are the hands given
    and the mind to navigate them.

    this landscape develops forsaken hearts
    harsh conditions chisel a soul
    until nothing but flesh remains.
    I fear not death
    for I am death.

    pt.5

    The walls of the cavern flash violently
    like lightning streaking across the sky
    my body vibrates from shockwaves
    shaking me to the ground
    Nanook’s jaw grips my neck
    releasing my life blood
    tonight I die in the cavern of lights
    wondering where the midnight sun
    rests her head.

    As I lay on the ice
    blood trickling from my body
    I feel Nanook’s breath upon my neck
    and look deep into the eyes of death.

    Now you understand

    Nanook walks away
    into the vast tundra  
    seeking another life;
    in my loneliness
    the lights start to dim
    the cavern encloses.
    far in the distance
    a pinpoint of light appears
    I begin to believe
    the midnight sun
    has come to take me home.

    Author Michael Plante
    Edited with the assistance of Marie Metaphor Specht
    Image: Arctic Polar Bear, StockCake Royalty-free Webpage.
    Artist unknown.

    Thank you for visiting The Poet’s House

    #Canada #Death #Firstnationscanada #Freeverse #Indigenous #Inuit #Life #Poetry #fantasy #fiction #writing
  2. A Dog With No Tale

    My name is Pamiuq
    it means “dog with no tail”
    I was born in the tundra
    a vast nothingness
    that leads to my feet.

    Only fate can distribute calamity
    and the tundra is full of it.
    It rises like snow drifts in winter
    and sings through blistering winds
    when the midnight sun has disappeared.

    It breaks the very ice you stand on
    into pieces that will drift away
    on the rich sea
    that sustains life.
    I am left to roam
    in search of food
    to sustain life.

    I am not a wise man
    nor one of intelligence.
    My talent is survival
    which I execute daily.
    I understand hunger
    and I understand death.
    Here on the tundra
    this is all we have.

     pt.1

    desolate
    the tundra kills;
    cold and pure
    as it should be.
    fearless, I watch
    as death approaches.

    I lay in a snow drift
    it coddles my body,
    my only wound
    is not knowing.
    so-be-it,
    I cannot care.

    what steps I took
    have gotten me here
    fate; and faith
    shall carry me
    the rest of the way.

    death always moves forward
    from a distance
    it’s a tiny white dot
    on the horizon
    growing in mass,
    devouring the landscape.
    soon it will be here.
    what it leaves behind
    will barely mark the ground.

    Nanook walks in silence
    snorting once in a while
    out of despair; or out of impatience?
    when Nanook arrives
    nothing will matter.

    I shall not interrupt death
    or its intentions.
    I accept
    Nanook’s breath is upon me
    it’s eyes searching for fear
    finding nothing but a void.
    Nanook snorts,
    disappointed.

    You’ve no life to give 
    bland individual
    You’ve no color
    or substance.

    Nanook snorts
    turns away.
    I rise
    and follow death
    across the ice.

    pt.2

    no one questions where death goes
    when darkness arrives
    and cold bites your bones.
    the total sum of our existence
    is revealed in a heartbeat.
    we are all just snowflakes
    falling from the abyss.

    I follow Nanook across the tundra
    blistering snow and howling winds
    strike everything.
    a memory of the midnight sun
    lightens the darkness of my mind. 
    as I mark Nanook’s footprints with my own
    I muse in thought
    does she exist beyond my sight
    and if so, is she thinking of me?

    can I ask a question?
    where do you go when darkness arrives?
    why can I only see you
    in my mind?

    the Midnight sun
    passes through my mind
    falling beyond my reach
    beyond the horizon
    into the darkness.

    pt.3

    fate’s nectar is blood;
    for those seeking to survive
    we forge the landscape
    acting as death’s agent.
    provisional life exists for all
    no matter where we are.

    Nanook moves effortlessly
    until the cavern of lights appears;
    the entrance to the heart of life
    can only be accessed
    at death’s request.

    each of us carries the cavern of life;
    it is in our blind spot
    but only a few
    understand its purpose.

    walls cleaved from ice
    buffed to a glistening sheen
    a millennia of effort
    to reflect one’s disposition.

    pt.4

    life carries life;
    I am nurtured by the vastness
    a place where the midnight sun
    hides her face from those seeking life.
    from the sea of richness, I consume
    killing to sustain my existence
    what falls from my mouth
    others will consume.
    for their own survival.

    my irreverence comes naturally
    for how could it not
    being born of the tundra?
    my only inheritance
    are the hands given
    and the mind to navigate them.

    this landscape develops forsaken hearts
    harsh conditions chisel a soul
    until nothing but flesh remains.
    I fear not death
    for I am death.

    pt.5

    The walls of the cavern flash violently
    like lightning streaking across the sky
    my body vibrates from shockwaves
    shaking me to the ground
    Nanook’s jaw grips my neck
    releasing my life blood
    tonight I die in the cavern of lights
    wondering where the midnight sun
    rests her head.

    As I lay on the ice
    blood trickling from my body
    I feel Nanook’s breath upon my neck
    and look deep into the eyes of death.

    Now you understand

    Nanook walks away
    into the vast tundra  
    seeking another life;
    in my loneliness
    the lights start to dim
    the cavern encloses.
    far in the distance
    a pinpoint of light appears
    I begin to believe
    the midnight sun
    has come to take me home.

    Author Michael Plante
    Edited with the assistance of Marie Metaphor Specht
    Image: Arctic Polar Bear, StockCake Royalty-free Webpage.
    Artist unknown.

    Thank you for visiting The Poet’s House

    #Canada #Death #Firstnationscanada #Freeverse #Indigenous #Inuit #Life #Poetry
  3. A Dog With No Tale

    My name is Pamiuq
    it means “dog with no tail”
    I was born in the tundra
    a vast nothingness
    that leads to my feet.

    Only fate can distribute calamity
    and the tundra is full of it.
    It rises like snow drifts in winter
    and sings through blistering winds
    when the midnight sun has disappeared.

    It breaks the very ice you stand on
    into pieces that will drift away
    on the rich sea
    that sustains life.
    I am left to roam
    in search of food
    to sustain life.

    I am not a wise man
    nor one of intelligence.
    My talent is survival
    which I execute daily.
    I understand hunger
    and I understand death.
    Here on the tundra
    this is all we have.

     pt.1

    desolate
    the tundra kills;
    cold and pure
    as it should be.
    fearless, I watch
    as death approaches.

    I lay in a snow drift
    it coddles my body,
    my only wound
    is not knowing.
    so-be-it,
    I cannot care.

    what steps I took
    have gotten me here
    fate; and faith
    shall carry me
    the rest of the way.

    death always moves forward
    from a distance
    it’s a tiny white dot
    on the horizon
    growing in mass,
    devouring the landscape.
    soon it will be here.
    what it leaves behind
    will barely mark the ground.

    Nanook walks in silence
    snorting once in a while
    out of despair; or out of impatience?
    when Nanook arrives
    nothing will matter.

    I shall not interrupt death
    or its intentions.
    I accept
    Nanook’s breath is upon me
    it’s eyes searching for fear
    finding nothing but a void.
    Nanook snorts,
    disappointed.

    You’ve no life to give 
    bland individual
    You’ve no color
    or substance.

    Nanook snorts
    turns away.
    I rise
    and follow death
    across the ice.

    pt.2

    no one questions where death goes
    when darkness arrives
    and cold bites your bones.
    the total sum of our existence
    is revealed in a heartbeat.
    we are all just snowflakes
    falling from the abyss.

    I follow Nanook across the tundra
    blistering snow and howling winds
    strike everything.
    a memory of the midnight sun
    lightens the darkness of my mind. 
    as I mark Nanook’s footprints with my own
    I muse in thought
    does she exist beyond my sight
    and if so, is she thinking of me?

    can I ask a question?
    where do you go when darkness arrives?
    why can I only see you
    in my mind?

    the Midnight sun
    passes through my mind
    falling beyond my reach
    beyond the horizon
    into the darkness.

    pt.3

    fate’s nectar is blood;
    for those seeking to survive
    we forge the landscape
    acting as death’s agent.
    provisional life exists for all
    no matter where we are.

    Nanook moves effortlessly
    until the cavern of lights appears;
    the entrance to the heart of life
    can only be accessed
    at death’s request.

    each of us carries the cavern of life;
    it is in our blind spot
    but only a few
    understand its purpose.

    walls cleaved from ice
    buffed to a glistening sheen
    a millennia of effort
    to reflect one’s disposition.

    pt.4

    life carries life;
    I am nurtured by the vastness
    a place where the midnight sun
    hides her face from those seeking life.
    from the sea of richness, I consume
    killing to sustain my existence
    what falls from my mouth
    others will consume.
    for their own survival.

    my irreverence comes naturally
    for how could it not
    being born of the tundra?
    my only inheritance
    are the hands given
    and the mind to navigate them.

    this landscape develops forsaken hearts
    harsh conditions chisel a soul
    until nothing but flesh remains.
    I fear not death
    for I am death.

    pt.5

    The walls of the cavern flash violently
    like lightning streaking across the sky
    my body vibrates from shockwaves
    shaking me to the ground
    Nanook’s jaw grips my neck
    releasing my life blood
    tonight I die in the cavern of lights
    wondering where the midnight sun
    rests her head.

    As I lay on the ice
    blood trickling from my body
    I feel Nanook’s breath upon my neck
    and look deep into the eyes of death.

    Now you understand

    Nanook walks away
    into the vast tundra  
    seeking another life;
    in my loneliness
    the lights start to dim
    the cavern encloses.
    far in the distance
    a pinpoint of light appears
    I begin to believe
    the midnight sun
    has come to take me home.

    Author Michael Plante
    Edited with the assistance of Marie Metaphor Specht
    Image: Arctic Polar Bear, StockCake Royalty-free Webpage.
    Artist unknown.

    Thank you for visiting The Poet’s House

    #Canada #Death #Firstnationscanada #Freeverse #Indigenous #Inuit #Life #Poetry #fantasy #fiction #writing
  4. A Dog With No Tale

    My name is Pamiuq
    it means “dog with no tail”
    I was born in the tundra
    a vast nothingness
    that leads to my feet.

    Only fate can distribute calamity
    and the tundra is full of it.
    It rises like snow drifts in winter
    and sings through blistering winds
    when the midnight sun has disappeared.

    It breaks the very ice you stand on
    into pieces that will drift away
    on the rich sea
    that sustains life.
    I am left to roam
    in search of food
    to sustain life.

    I am not a wise man
    nor one of intelligence.
    My talent is survival
    which I execute daily.
    I understand hunger
    and I understand death.
    Here on the tundra
    this is all we have.

     pt.1

    desolate
    the tundra kills;
    cold and pure
    as it should be.
    fearless, I watch
    as death approaches.

    I lay in a snow drift
    it coddles my body,
    my only wound
    is not knowing.
    so-be-it,
    I cannot care.

    what steps I took
    have gotten me here
    fate; and faith
    shall carry me
    the rest of the way.

    death always moves forward
    from a distance
    it’s a tiny white dot
    on the horizon
    growing in mass,
    devouring the landscape.
    soon it will be here.
    what it leaves behind
    will barely mark the ground.

    Nanook walks in silence
    snorting once in a while
    out of despair; or out of impatience?
    when Nanook arrives
    nothing will matter.

    I shall not interrupt death
    or its intentions.
    I accept
    Nanook’s breath is upon me
    it’s eyes searching for fear
    finding nothing but a void.
    Nanook snorts,
    disappointed.

    You’ve no life to give 
    bland individual
    You’ve no color
    or substance.

    Nanook snorts
    turns away.
    I rise
    and follow death
    across the ice.

    pt.2

    no one questions where death goes
    when darkness arrives
    and cold bites your bones.
    the total sum of our existence
    is revealed in a heartbeat.
    we are all just snowflakes
    falling from the abyss.

    I follow Nanook across the tundra
    blistering snow and howling winds
    strike everything.
    a memory of the midnight sun
    lightens the darkness of my mind. 
    as I mark Nanook’s footprints with my own
    I muse in thought
    does she exist beyond my sight
    and if so, is she thinking of me?

    can I ask a question?
    where do you go when darkness arrives?
    why can I only see you
    in my mind?

    the Midnight sun
    passes through my mind
    falling beyond my reach
    beyond the horizon
    into the darkness.

    pt.3

    fate’s nectar is blood;
    for those seeking to survive
    we forge the landscape
    acting as death’s agent.
    provisional life exists for all
    no matter where we are.

    Nanook moves effortlessly
    until the cavern of lights appears;
    the entrance to the heart of life
    can only be accessed
    at death’s request.

    each of us carries the cavern of life;
    it is in our blind spot
    but only a few
    understand its purpose.

    walls cleaved from ice
    buffed to a glistening sheen
    a millennia of effort
    to reflect one’s disposition.

    pt.4

    life carries life;
    I am nurtured by the vastness
    a place where the midnight sun
    hides her face from those seeking life.
    from the sea of richness, I consume
    killing to sustain my existence
    what falls from my mouth
    others will consume.
    for their own survival.

    my irreverence comes naturally
    for how could it not
    being born of the tundra?
    my only inheritance
    are the hands given
    and the mind to navigate them.

    this landscape develops forsaken hearts
    harsh conditions chisel a soul
    until nothing but flesh remains.
    I fear not death
    for I am death.

    pt.5

    The walls of the cavern flash violently
    like lightning streaking across the sky
    my body vibrates from shockwaves
    shaking me to the ground
    Nanook’s jaw grips my neck
    releasing my life blood
    tonight I die in the cavern of lights
    wondering where the midnight sun
    rests her head.

    As I lay on the ice
    blood trickling from my body
    I feel Nanook’s breath upon my neck
    and look deep into the eyes of death.

    Now you understand

    Nanook walks away
    into the vast tundra  
    seeking another life;
    in my loneliness
    the lights start to dim
    the cavern encloses.
    far in the distance
    a pinpoint of light appears
    I begin to believe
    the midnight sun
    has come to take me home.

    Author Michael Plante
    Edited with the assistance of Marie Metaphor Specht
    Image: Arctic Polar Bear, StockCake Royalty-free Webpage.
    Artist unknown.

    Thank you for visiting The Poet’s House

    #Canada #Death #Firstnationscanada #Freeverse #Indigenous #Inuit #Life #Poetry
  5. A Dog With No Tale

    My name is Pamiuq
    it means “dog with no tail”
    I was born in the tundra
    a vast nothingness
    that leads to my feet.

    Only fate can distribute calamity
    and the tundra is full of it.
    It rises like snow drifts in winter
    and sings through blistering winds
    when the midnight sun has disappeared.

    It breaks the very ice you stand on
    into pieces that will drift away
    on the rich sea
    that sustains life.
    I am left to roam
    in search of food
    to sustain life.

    I am not a wise man
    nor one of intelligence.
    My talent is survival
    which I execute daily.
    I understand hunger
    and I understand death.
    Here on the tundra
    this is all we have.

     pt.1

    desolate
    the tundra kills;
    cold and pure
    as it should be.
    fearless, I watch
    as death approaches.

    I lay in a snow drift
    it coddles my body,
    my only wound
    is not knowing.
    so-be-it,
    I cannot care.

    what steps I took
    have gotten me here
    fate; and faith
    shall carry me
    the rest of the way.

    death always moves forward
    from a distance
    it’s a tiny white dot
    on the horizon
    growing in mass,
    devouring the landscape.
    soon it will be here.
    what it leaves behind
    will barely mark the ground.

    Nanook walks in silence
    snorting once in a while
    out of despair; or out of impatience?
    when Nanook arrives
    nothing will matter.

    I shall not interrupt death
    or its intentions.
    I accept
    Nanook’s breath is upon me
    it’s eyes searching for fear
    finding nothing but a void.
    Nanook snorts,
    disappointed.

    You’ve no life to give 
    bland individual
    You’ve no color
    or substance.

    Nanook snorts
    turns away.
    I rise
    and follow death
    across the ice.

    pt.2

    no one questions where death goes
    when darkness arrives
    and cold bites your bones.
    the total sum of our existence
    is revealed in a heartbeat.
    we are all just snowflakes
    falling from the abyss.

    I follow Nanook across the tundra
    blistering snow and howling winds
    strike everything.
    a memory of the midnight sun
    lightens the darkness of my mind. 
    as I mark Nanook’s footprints with my own
    I muse in thought
    does she exist beyond my sight
    and if so, is she thinking of me?

    can I ask a question?
    where do you go when darkness arrives?
    why can I only see you
    in my mind?

    the Midnight sun
    passes through my mind
    falling beyond my reach
    beyond the horizon
    into the darkness.

    pt.3

    fate’s nectar is blood;
    for those seeking to survive
    we forge the landscape
    acting as death’s agent.
    provisional life exists for all
    no matter where we are.

    Nanook moves effortlessly
    until the cavern of lights appears;
    the entrance to the heart of life
    can only be accessed
    at death’s request.

    each of us carries the cavern of life;
    it is in our blind spot
    but only a few
    understand its purpose.

    walls cleaved from ice
    buffed to a glistening sheen
    a millennia of effort
    to reflect one’s disposition.

    pt.4

    life carries life;
    I am nurtured by the vastness
    a place where the midnight sun
    hides her face from those seeking life.
    from the sea of richness, I consume
    killing to sustain my existence
    what falls from my mouth
    others will consume.
    for their own survival.

    my irreverence comes naturally
    for how could it not
    being born of the tundra?
    my only inheritance
    are the hands given
    and the mind to navigate them.

    this landscape develops forsaken hearts
    harsh conditions chisel a soul
    until nothing but flesh remains.
    I fear not death
    for I am death.

    pt.5

    The walls of the cavern flash violently
    like lightning streaking across the sky
    my body vibrates from shockwaves
    shaking me to the ground
    Nanook’s jaw grips my neck
    releasing my life blood
    tonight I die in the cavern of lights
    wondering where the midnight sun
    rests her head.

    As I lay on the ice
    blood trickling from my body
    I feel Nanook’s breath upon my neck
    and look deep into the eyes of death.

    Now you understand

    Nanook walks away
    into the vast tundra  
    seeking another life;
    in my loneliness
    the lights start to dim
    the cavern encloses.
    far in the distance
    a pinpoint of light appears
    I begin to believe
    the midnight sun
    has come to take me home.

    Author Michael Plante
    Edited with the assistance of Marie Metaphor Specht
    Image: Arctic Polar Bear, StockCake Royalty-free Webpage.
    Artist unknown.

    Thank you for visiting The Poet’s House

    #Canada #Death #Firstnationscanada #Freeverse #Indigenous #Inuit #Life #Poetry #fantasy #fiction #writing
  6. ✮ Out of Gas ✮

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    Subscribe #AgingAndTime #Art #Beauty #BlankVerse #BurnoutCulture #Composition #Contrast #CorporateLife #Creativity #CyclicalExistence #DailyStruggle #DeepThinking #Depth #DreamlikeReality #Emotion #EmotionalDepth #EmotionalExhaustion #EmotionalNumbness #EmotionalWeight #EntropyAndDecay #Erwinism #ExistentialAwareness #ExistentialCrisis #ExistentialDread #ExistentialPoetry #Expression #Flow #FreeVerse #FYP #Harmony #HumanCondition #HumanExperience #HumanFragility #HumanRoutine #HumanStruggle #HumanVulnerability #IdentityAndPurpose #IdentityCrisis #Imagery #IndustrialSociety #InnerConflict #InnerEmptiness #InnerMonologue #Inspiration #Learning #Life #LifeAndDeathParadox #LifeAsAMachine #LifeAsIllusion #LifeCycle #LifeMetaphors #LifeReflection #Literature #LossOfIdentity #LossOfMeaning #Love #MeaninglessGrind #MentalFatigue #metaphor #ModernAlienation #ModernExistence #ModernFatigue #Mood #MortalityReflection #Motivation #PersonalDisillusionment #personalReflection #PhilosophicalInsight #PhilosophicalPoetry #Poem #poeticNarrative #Poetry #Progress #PsychologicalStrain #QuietDesperation #RepetitionOfLife #RepetitiveReality #Rhythm #RoutineAndDespair #SearchForChange #SearchForPurpose #societalCommentary #SocietalPressure #SpiritualDisconnection #Structure #SurrealImagery #SurvivalMode #Symbolism #SymbolismInPoetry #Theme #timeAndMemory #TimeLoop #Tone #UrbanLoneliness #UrbanPoetry #Verse #WageSlavery #Words #WorkingClassLife #WorkingToDeath #Writing