Deer Cloud

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Susan Deer Cloud

The Last Ceremony

Georgia O'Keefe once wrote about her yearning to "kick a hole in the universe." Susan Deer Cloud does just that with these poems that make a stand in a way similar to that of her Native ancestors. Her words soar, her music and vision carry you into new universes that favor freedom, exuberance and beauty beyond all heartbreak. For that reason this Indian woman's poetry will be lasting.

Ruth Stone

Susan Deer Cloud is a writer of Blackfoot, Mohawk, Seneca heritage (Métis) who grew up in the Catskill Mountains. She is an alumna of Binghamton University where she has occasionally taught Creative Writing. Currently she is in MFA Fiction Program at UMass, Amherst.

Deer Cloud's other books of poetry are The Broken Hoop and In the Moon When the Deer Lose Their Horns. She is the editor of the multicultural anthology Confluence. She has also published poems, stories, and essays in numerous literary journals and anthologies - Rosebud, Pembroke Magazine,To Topos, Ms, Many Mountains Moving, Sojourner, North Dakota Quarterly, Quarterly West, Arizona Quarterly, Mid-American Review, Paterson Literary Review, Negative Capability, Shenandoah, Prairie Schooner, Ladyfest*East Anthology, Sister Nations: Native American Women Writers on Community, A Nation Within: an Anthology of Native American Poetry, Listening to Water, the Susquehanna Watershed Anthology, WPFW 89.3 FM Poetry Anthology (from Public Radio's "The Poet and the Poem"), American Mixed Race: The Culture of Microdiversity, Out of the Catskills and Beyond: Literary and Visual Works by Catskill Writers and Artists, and Penguin's Unsettling America: an Anthology of Contemporary Multi-Cultural Poetry and Identity Lessons: Contemporary Writing About Learning to Be American, among others.

Deer Cloud has received awards and special recognition in literary competitions for both her poems and stories (for instance, her poem “Tree” received first prize in the Allen Ginsberg Poetry Competition; her poem “Vincent Van Gogh Writes To Madame Calment From The Stars” was awarded second prize in Negative Capability's Eve of St. Agnes Poetry Competition; and two of her poems received Readers' Choice Award from Prairie Schooner). She is a recipient of a New York State Foundation for the Arts Poetry Fellowship, a Chenango County Council for the Arts Individual Artist's Grant, and is the founder of Binghamton Underground Poets, Wild Indians & Exuberant Others, Unc. (Unincorporated). Most recently she was awarded the National Endowment for the Arts Literature Fellowship in Poetry (2007).

From the book:

THE ONLY CEREMONY WE HAD LEFT TO US

(for Lance Henson, Ron Welburn

& Sara Littlecrow-Russell)

I am not going to pretend. The only ceremony

we had left to us was taking rides in a dented

Chevy on dirt roads no city slickers could find.

The only ceremony left to us was stopping

at a path we mountain Indians knew about,

stepping behind one another, hands brushing

the bent ferns. The ceremony never stolen

was walking a stony trail to a cliff, where

we made our stand with oaks, spruces, maples,

a few surviving hemlocks. I am not going to lie.

We still had a family, in some ways a tribe.

But our prayer was staring across valleys

at Catskill peaks answering us

with blue.

My brothers, once I dreamed

of Cheyenne stallions and Cherokee fire.

My sister, once I cried for Chippewa bear medicine

when they cut my tongue. Can I pretend otherwise?

The last ceremony left to me is riding

the broken horses of love off cliffs.

CONTENTS

Marlon Brando Dies at 80

Half-Breed at Ten Years Old, the Great Depression

Her Pocahontas

Suzy Doll

Welcome to the Land of Ma'am

You Really Have

Old Man

Wonder Bread

Harvest

Tear

First Time

Your America, My Turtle Island

WHIM

Sexiest Tribe in America

Fear

Before Christmas That Year

Catskill

Tweed

Shadow Dream

Winter's End White Dream

Riding with Gold

Driving Home Tonight

Bering Strait Binary Star

The Last Words

White Dress

Raven Goes to College

Passing

When I am a Tree

I Wish I Had Written This Poetry

The Dirt in the Gallery Across from the Old Whorehouse

Bear

Whale Watch

Pemaquid

Holocaust Museum

Vincent Van Gogh Writes to Jeanne Louise Calment

Yellow Girl, I Give You

Fear of Bag Ladies

Canvas

When My Oldest Brother Turns

Buffalo Nickel Makes Return

Why I Love Being an Indian

After Reading Your Snow Poems

Encampment

Moon Seeing

One Good Indian Man

Bear Medicine

Rock Hard

Rock `n Roll Ravens

Burial

The Only Ceremony We Had Left To Us

The Last Ceremony

is an 88 page hand-sewn paper book with spine - $16.00

TO ORDER ON-LINE

To order through mail click here.


	FootHills Publishing \| home Submitting to FootHills \| 2007 Books \| Zazulyer \| James \| Spiers \| Hoogestraat \| Lochridge \| Lehmann \| Gittings-Dalton \| Bashkirew \| Good \| Rivera \| Calhoun \| Deer Cloud \| Wright \| Miller \| Milby \| Bird \| Quetchenbach \| Gordon \| Riche \| Richardson \| Brown \| Schwartz \| Rossiter \| Graser \| Owens \| Merrifield \| Thomas \| Krok \| Jennings \| Stelzig \| Faurot \| Costanzo \| Ordering by Mail \| Contact FHP Susan Deer Cloud The Last Ceremony Georgia O'Keefe once wrote about her yearning to "kick a hole in the universe." Susan Deer Cloud does just that with these poems that make a stand in a way similar to that of her Native ancestors. Her words soar, her music and vision carry you into new universes that favor freedom, exuberance and beauty beyond all heartbreak. For that reason this Indian woman's poetry will be lasting. Ruth Stone Susan Deer Cloud is a writer of Blackfoot, Mohawk, Seneca heritage (Métis) who grew up in the Catskill Mountains. She is an alumna of Binghamton University where she has occasionally taught Creative Writing. Currently she is in MFA Fiction Program at UMass, Amherst. Deer Cloud's other books of poetry are The Broken Hoop and In the Moon When the Deer Lose Their Horns. She is the editor of the multicultural anthology Confluence. She has also published poems, stories, and essays in numerous literary journals and anthologies - Rosebud, Pembroke Magazine,To Topos, Ms, Many Mountains Moving, Sojourner, North Dakota Quarterly, Quarterly West, Arizona Quarterly, Mid-American Review, Paterson Literary Review, Negative Capability, Shenandoah, Prairie Schooner, LadyfestEast Anthology, Sister Nations: Native American Women* Writers on Community, A Nation Within: an Anthology of Native American Poetry, Listening to Water, the Susquehanna Watershed Anthology, WPFW 89.3 FM Poetry Anthology (from Public Radio's "The Poet and the Poem"), American Mixed Race: The Culture of Microdiversity, Out of the Catskills and Beyond: Literary and Visual Works by Catskill Writers and Artists, and Penguin's Unsettling America: an Anthology of Contemporary Multi-Cultural Poetry and Identity Lessons: Contemporary Writing About Learning to Be American, among others. Deer Cloud has received awards and special recognition in literary competitions for both her poems and stories (for instance, her poem “Tree” received first prize in the Allen Ginsberg Poetry Competition; her poem “Vincent Van Gogh Writes To Madame Calment From The Stars” was awarded second prize in Negative Capability's Eve of St. Agnes Poetry Competition; and two of her poems received Readers' Choice Award from Prairie Schooner). She is a recipient of a New York State Foundation for the Arts Poetry Fellowship, a Chenango County Council for the Arts Individual Artist's Grant, and is the founder of Binghamton Underground Poets, Wild Indians & Exuberant Others, Unc. (Unincorporated). Most recently she was awarded the National Endowment for the Arts Literature Fellowship in Poetry (2007). From the book: THE ONLY CEREMONY WE HAD LEFT TO US (for Lance Henson, Ron Welburn & Sara Littlecrow-Russell) I am not going to pretend. The only ceremony we had left to us was taking rides in a dented Chevy on dirt roads no city slickers could find. The only ceremony left to us was stopping at a path we mountain Indians knew about, stepping behind one another, hands brushing the bent ferns. The ceremony never stolen was walking a stony trail to a cliff, where we made our stand with oaks, spruces, maples, a few surviving hemlocks. I am not going to lie. We still had a family, in some ways a tribe. But our prayer was staring across valleys at Catskill peaks answering us with blue. My brothers, once I dreamed of Cheyenne stallions and Cherokee fire. My sister, once I cried for Chippewa bear medicine when they cut my tongue. Can I pretend otherwise? The last ceremony left to me is riding the broken horses of love off cliffs. CONTENTS Marlon Brando Dies at 80 Half-Breed at Ten Years Old, the Great Depression Her Pocahontas Suzy Doll Welcome to the Land of Ma'am You Really Have Old Man Wonder Bread Harvest Tear First Time Your America, My Turtle Island WHIM Sexiest Tribe in America Fear Before Christmas That Year Catskill Tweed Shadow Dream Winter's End White Dream Riding with Gold Driving Home Tonight Bering Strait Binary Star The Last Words White Dress Raven Goes to College Passing When I am a Tree I Wish I Had Written This Poetry The Dirt in the Gallery Across from the Old Whorehouse Bear Whale Watch Pemaquid Holocaust Museum Vincent Van Gogh Writes to Jeanne Louise Calment Yellow Girl, I Give You Fear of Bag Ladies Canvas When My Oldest Brother Turns Buffalo Nickel Makes Return Why I Love Being an Indian After Reading Your Snow Poems Encampment Moon Seeing One Good Indian Man Bear Medicine Rock Hard Rock `n Roll Ravens Burial The Only Ceremony We Had Left To Us The Last Ceremony is an 88 page hand-sewn paper book with spine - $16.00 TO ORDER ON-LINE To order through mail click here.