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Anthologies 
 
(Finger Lakes Anthology) 
 
(Endangered Species Anthology) 
 
(Susquehanna Watershed Anthology) 
 
(Auburn Prison Anthology) 
 
 
 
  Knocking on the Silence 
An Anthology of Poetry  
Inspired by 
The Finger Lakes  
 
 
 
Edited by 
Donna M. Marbach   
and  
Patricia Roth Schwartz 
Cover art by Dorothy Harrison 
***************** 
 
Knocking on the Silence is a 120 page  
hand-sewn book with spine - $19.95 
 
TO ORDER  Knocking on the Silence  ON-LINE  
 
     
 
 
 
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  The Dire Elegies 
59 Poets on Endangered Species of North America 
(Ordering Information Below) 
 
Illustartion by David M. Carroll 
 
 
Karla Linn Merrifield, chief editor, and co-editor Roger M. Weir have assembled a first anthology of its type in the world to inspire readers to take action on behalf of the continent's endangered plants and animals.   
 
"Poets here have left their ivory towers to encourage their neighbors to walk in the woods, observe the world, learn - and act,” said Merrifield, who teaches writing in the New York state university system.  
 
Dr. Edward O. Wilson, world-renowned Harvard entomologist and two-time Pulitzer-Prize winning author, points out in the epigraph to this unique collection of poetry, “…the better an ecosystem is known, the less likely it will be destroyed.”   
 
This is the premise of “THE DIRE ELEGIES: 59 Poets on Endangered Species of North America” and why author Bill McKibben (“The End of Nature,” “Enough,” and “Wandering Home”) says in the book's foreword, “These magnificent poems work as a chant to summon more” of the love to save the endangered from extinction.  It's also why writer Susan Cerulean (“Tracking Desire: A Journey After Swallow-tailed Kites”) has called the book an “important manifesto: a must-read for our times.”   
 
     
 Included in the anthology are noted poets William Heyen, Maxine Kumin, W. S. Merwin, Enid Shomer, James E. Smelcer, Gary Snyder, Brian Swann and Lewis Turco among others.  The 59 poets are from all across the U.S. and Canada.   
 
The book's cover illustration depicting painted turtles in hibernation was donated by New Hampshire artist and naturalist David M. Carroll, recipient of The Burroughs Award for his Swampwalker's Journal: A Wetland's Year.  
 
Science Meets Poetry 
 
     A helpful feature of the anthology is the species notes that accompany the poems each time a new species is introduced.   
 
For example, when readers encounter Minnesota poet Shirley S. Stevens's poem “On Spotting a Pygmy Owl,” they also learn:  “The endangered cactus ferruginous pygmy owl, Glaucidium brasilianum cactorum, of the U.S. Southwest and Mexico, numbered only 12 birds when it was listed in the U.S. in 1997.  A USF&WS recovery team began its work to rescue the species in 1998, but its fate remains precarious.”    
 
     “This anthology is a major advance along a most important frontier: forging compassion for endangered species, and using our human self-awareness to reflect on whether we really wish to travel the road we're on.,” said Carl Safina, author of Song for the Blue Ocean and Voyage of the Turtle, and founder and president of the Blue Ocean Institute. 
 
 
The Dire Elegies 
is a 120 page hand-sewn book with spine - $19.95 
 
TO ORDER  ON-LINE  
 
     
 
 
Contributors Order On-Line here: 
 
 
 
Send orders to:                       
 
FootHills Publishing 
PO Box 68 
Kanona, NY 14856 
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  Listening to Water 
The Susquehanna Watershed Anthology 
 
Edited by Jennifer Hill-Kaucher and Dan Waber 
Cover Art by Christine Goldbeck 
 
Introduction 
 
We were sharing poems our favorite way, among friends, over beverages, within the slow swirl of an autumn breeze, at the dining room table, when Michael asked us if we'd be interested in editing an anthology for him and FootHills Publishing. Sure, we said, what sort of anthology? Michael went on to tell us how he thought it would be appropriate to put together an anthology of poems from the Susquehanna Watershed area, because that's what  FootHills' first book had been, almost 20 years ago. Who would dream of saying “no”? 
 
In the process of putting together the collection you now hold in your hands we used several criteria. First, the poems selected had to strike us both as being excellent poems. Second, the excellent poems had to be emblematic of the anthology's area of focus, the Susquehanna Watershed. By “emblematic” we mean that they had to perform the dual function of making residents of the area say “yes, that's us all right” and allowing non-residents to say “oh, now I understand the region better.” Third, the excellent, emblematic poems had to blend organically with the other poems selected. We didn't want to assemble a collection that throbbed with flashpops of disconnected poems. We wanted to assemble a collection that flows, like the Susquehanna herself - an anthology that twists and winds its way, surely, into every aspect of the lives of the people of an entire region. 
 
Here's to 20 years of FootHills Publishing, and here's to 20 more. 
 
 
Dan Waber & Jennifer Hill-Kaucher 
Editors 
   
Listening to Water 
is a 100 page hand-sewn book with spine - $16.00 
 
TO ORDER  ON-LINE  
 
     
 
 
Contributors Order On-Line here: 
 
 
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an anthology from  
the Inmates' Poetry Workshop  
of Auburn Correctional Facility  
Auburn, New York    2001-2009 
 
 
“Listen, America!  These poems are the best of what Robert Pinsky's Democracy, Culture and the Voice of Poetry, describes as an attempt to balance our national Memory.  Open your eyes, mind, and hearts to the simple, frank, unsettling beauty.”  
                 -Vincent F. A. Golphin, PhD, poet, author of Like A Dry Land: A Soul Journey Through the Middle East 
 
 
"Hearing of my writing class at Albion, well-meaning friends would say, 'How great to be helping imprisoned women find their voices!'  Just as Pat Schwartz has, I've met instead inmates with pages of writing, much of it already astounding.  In this anthology, one poet asserts, 'No, I am not voiceless...'  Indeed! So give these men what they really want to find: not their voices-but your ear, or, in this case, your eye!"   
  -Karen Anderson, poet and prison volunteer 
 
 
Monday Night Poetry is special because it's the only place in this petrified world where we can gather round the campfire of our souls and give life to our joy and pain. 
 
-Michael Rhynes, co-facilitator of the Inmates'  
Poetry Workshop at ACF and author of  
Guerillas in the Mist, and Other Poems... 
 
 
This unique collection gives voice to those individuals who have been shuttered away. Their voices in turn open a dialogue we all need to think about. 
 
-Dale Davis 
Executive Director, The New York Literary Center 
 
 
Reading the poems in this anthology felt freeing. The fiery, raw, raven-eyed honesty of its incarcerated men's work made me feel less locked inside whatever bars of ignorance, anger, fear, and stereotypes I'm peering through. I am grateful to these poets for the brave dignity of their words-for being my teacher. A dark night of the soul journey, indeed, but one which guides the reader out into a shock of transcending light. 
 
-Susan Deer Cloud, poet, editor 
and author of The Last Ceremony 
 
 
From the Forward by Janine Pommy Vega: 
 
Reading Doing Time to Cleanse My Mind, I realized the poems were created 
in the supportive environment of a writing workshop. After ten years and 
thousands of manuscripts read for the PEN Prison Writing Awards (PEN stands 
for Poets, Editors & Novelists, an international association of writers), I 
have learned to recognize poems from whatever confined corner of this nation 
someone or some group is actively working on his/her/their craft. The nuts 
and bolts are hidden, but the images are nailed in place, and the 
imagination leaps out in an arc that touches the reader. 
Week after week the writers of this anthology gathered in some corner of 
Auburn Prison, brought together by the arrival of a visitor, the poet 
Patricia Roth Schwartz. The whole premise and requirement of weekly writing 
sessions brought about the inspiration, formulation, creation, sharing, and 
thereafter the editing of these poems. They are the works of writers 
concerned with the big questions: Who am I? What am I doing here? What is 
this society I am part of? What about my loved ones, how can I serve them? 
. . . . . 
 
Having read through the contents of this anthology several times these 
past weeks, I have earmarked my personal favorites-both writers and 
poems-which I will not share with you. Rather I urge you to pick your own. 
Novelist Bernard Malamud, who once served as president of PEN American 
Center, said, and I'm paraphrasing, that his belief in a fellowship of 
writers had to do with fostering “literature as a civilizing force in an 
unstable world; a literature that gives flesh and bones and perhaps a brain 
to the politics that assail us; a literature that entices us to understand 
and value life.” That pretty much describes the book you're holding in your 
hands 
 
 
From the Introduction by Patricia Roth Schwartz: 
 
What's it like for a teacher to enter the school where she plans to 
teach, not through ivy-covered arches into a sunlit book-lined classroom, 
but by passing under a hulking stone entry worthy of a medieval fortress, 
then submit to a metal detector, a search of her briefcase, having 
previously had a mug shot and fingerprints taken? Then she walks, not 
across a grassy campus, but over an asphalt-surfaced walled yard, escorted 
by armed guards, past towering turrets manned by gunmen, into a building 
sparsely stocked with only basic furniture, no supplies, and peeling paint. 
Intimidating? Fearsome? Perhaps… Yet what's it like to find her students pouring into the meager 
classroom brimming with eagerness and enthusiasm, clutching sheaves of poems 
and stacks of manuscripts they've been working on for years, many 
self-educated in subjects ranging from mythology to history to world 
religions? Thus began my experience as a volunteer facilitator of an 
inmates' poetry workshop inside Auburn Correctional Facility, a maximum 
security men's prison first built in 1821, with most of its original 
forbidding architecture still intact. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Proceeds:  The editors of this book are donating all their profits from book sales to the Raven's Wing Fund, which provides free copies to the poets' families and friends and to present and future members of the Inmates' Poetry Workshop at ACF, as well as helping to make possible future publishing projects. 
 
doing time to cleanse my mind 
is a 76 page hand-stitched paperbook with spine 
$16.00 
 
TO ORDER  ON-LINE                                
       
 
From the US or Canada       
 
 
 
From Other Countries           
       
 
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I WAS INDIAN 
 
(before being Indian was cool) 
 
AN ANTHOLOGY OF  
NATIVE LITERATURE 
VOLUME I 
 
Edited by Susan Deer Cloud 
 
 
TABLE OF CONTENTS  
 
I Was Indian - Introduction    Susan Deer Cloud     9 
 
Paul Hapenny 
   Halfbreed Boy     15                                                                                                                                         
   Reverie on the Southeast Expressway     17                                         
   The Indian Joke      19 
   Pain of Mystic      21 
 
Monty Campbell 
   Rez Photos     22 
   Lamentation     23 
   On Ancient Land     24 
   Organic Turmoil      25 
   Warm Winter     26 
 
Paula Gunn Allen 
   America the Beautiful V     27 
   A Trick of Light     28 
 
Sayra Pinto-Wilson 
   The Story I Will Tell the Youngsters When I Am Old     29 
   Hiking With My Uncle Carlos     31 
 
Charles Bane, Jr.  
   Widening     32 
 
Lance Henson 
   All the Names     33                                                                                 
   From Jordan      34 
   Crossing     35                                                                                 
   A Sudden Dislocation & Passages     36   
   Here     37 
 
Sarah Littlecrow-Russell 
   Storm Poems     38  
   Indian Child Support     39 
   I Do Not Know Your Name     40  
   Atlantic Bridge     41  
 
Stephanie Elliot   
   Consider the Pinpoint of Entry     42 
 
Chip Livingston 
   Coon Was Here, 1985     44                                                                                  
   Crow Blue-Crow Black     46  
   Apalachee Tuscaloosa     47        
 
Dave Brinks 
   In Stone Stelae, in Nebulae     48 
   The Ouroborous     49 
 
John David Henson 
   Watching TV     50  
   Early Morning Storm     52 
   Learning to Let Go     53 
 
Cedar Firesong Robideau 
   Firesong, Dark, Death     54 
 
Barney Bush 
   Arrows     55 
   A June Wind Above Regina     57 
 
Black Bear 
  Indian Man     59 
   Winter Stillness     60 
 
Briget Truex     
   Song     61 
 
nila northSun 
   Pale in the Desert     62                                                                              
   Poetic Phrases     63      
 
Sandra Haley 
   Marvin's Funeral     64   
 
Kim Shuck 
   Objects May Be Closer Than They Appear     65      
 
Asani Charles 
   Indin Souljer Boy     67 
 
J.P. Dancing Bear 
   A Brief Informal History     68 
 
Diane Way 
    NDN Blues     69 
 
Rick Kearns 
   Kill the Indian     72 
 
Martin Esapada 
   Colibrí     74  
   All the People Who Are Now Red Trees     75   
 
Charles Johnson                                                                                      
   Piedras Negras     76 
 
Ron Welburn 
   String Theory     77 
   Mohawk Memory (Schoharie County, N.Y.)     78                        
   Every Morning Is a Season     79 
 
James Autio 
   Nind Inaabandam/I Dream     80                                                           
   Lemon Poppyseed     81 
 
Ahimsa Timoteo Bodhrán 
   Hibernate     82 
 
Eric Schwartz 
   New World     83 
 
Gary Wilkens 
   Indian Recycler     84                                                                           
   82 MPH on the NY State Thruway     85        
 
Jennifer Lemming 
   Quilting Circle     86     
 
Kim Becker 
   Beloved Woman     87             
 
Linda Hogan 
   Dimensions     88                                                                                      
   Affinity: Mustang     90     
 
Matthew C. Wolfe    
   On the Rez     92  
   O Great Spirit     94    
 
Thomas Hubbard 
   Lakota Woman     96 
   This Morning's Blues     97 
 
Vicenti Kurle Caljesuseso 
   Sweet T     98 
 
DeLyssa Begay/Black Sheep Woman 
   Bear     99                                                                                 
 
Joe Bruchac 
   Wawanogit     101 
   Ghost Song     102 
 
Rane Arroyo     
   No Burying Echoes     104 
   The Blue Lagoon (a Remake)     106 
 
Latona Swan-Ena 
   Counting Coup     107                                                      
 
Alice M. Azure 
   Walking in the Rain     111 
 
Tiffany Midge  
   Imagining Yes     112 
   A Song for Conjuring Shelter     113 
 
Ray “Moose” Jackson 
   I Want to Make Love to You     114 
 
Susan Deer Cloud 
   Horse     116 
   Sugar Daddy     117 
   Our Parallel Universe     118                
 
From the book: 
 
I WAS INDIAN  INTRODUCTION - Susan Deer Cloud 
 
Then all Indians 
lived in country 
my people in Catskills 
where Indians 
were “part Indian” 
families extended 
including boy cousins 
too numerous to count 
including wolf-eyed friends 
also “part Indian” 
 
All Indian kids 
flung rocks   burrs   snakes 
at non-Indian kids 
dumb enough to wander 
onto Indian territory 
in my case School Street 
no white girls dared wear 
a snake necklace the way 
an Indian girl dared to 
every Indian child 
got savaged by teachers 
teaching Indians are savages 
 
Little Indian rebels with a cause 
got low grades if they spoke up 
against so-called founding fathers 
who stole Indian land   made 
Mother Earth their whipping girl 
all the budding warriors' mothers 
warned them not to tell outsiders 
their dreams   beautiful ways 
lest they'd be caged as crazy 
 
Long time ago 
when all Indians 
went berry picking 
strawberries in June 
blackberries in July 
blueberries in August 
beechnuts and apples in fall 
boys   men      hunting   fishing 
wild meat for every meal 
joking   you are what you eat 
 
All our wild boys 
tongues tasting of fried trout 
plump berries   hard cider 
the way third cousins tasted 
when we bartered kisses 
in high mountain meadows 
when kisses howled forth 
shadows of panthers 
passenger pigeons 
oh   my lost wild heart 
 
And continuing genocide 
the ones who tried to shame us 
called us dirty   dumb 
our untamed tenderness suspect 
when all our mothers led us 
to the rivers of summer 
when our small bodies 
wept into the waters 
under mountain laurel slopes 
when we let our salt grief 
wash out to the seas of deepness 
 
Breathing in then   white pine 
blue spruce   firefly nights 
when Indians stood up for Indians 
no one carried an identity card 
no one had to whisper 
they hated the U.S. Government 
no professors informed us 
we were Native Americans 
when America didn't hunger to be US 
believed eastern Injuns were all dead 
When we survivors gathered 
beneath a Tree of Peace 
but no one called it that 
we had swallowed the garbage of exile 
for too many centuries 
we simply sang   played   together 
cradled babies together 
that was our powwow 
no bumperstickers for sale 
no I was Indian before being 
Indian was cool to slap 
on all our rusting Indian cars' 
proud rear ends 
only our dreamcatcher faces 
refusing to vanish 
 
 
LAMENTATION - Monty Campbell 
 
Angel of light, 
angel of simple alabaster, 
gun breath or whiskey, 
connect me to dirt, 
let me find a brother 
in this ancient,  
sacred soil, 
let the turtles wake  
wash me upon an 
unshrapneled shore, 
take my simple cloth 
and sew it to the 
sky world 
where an old woman's hands 
would heal me to sleep, 
make the stripes of an 
unwanted father bleed on the  
hands of a father forgotten, 
let him awake, 
let them all awake, 
pound the drum until the 
fire is blazing, until 
every spirit stands  
or dances. 
 
 
AFFINITY: MUSTANG - Linda Hogan 
 
Tonight after the sounds of day 
have given way 
she stands beneath the moon, 
a gray rock shining. 
She matches the land, 
belonging. 
 
She has a dark calm face, 
her hooves like black stone 
belong to the earth 
the way it used to be, 
long grasses 
as grass followed rain 
or wind laid down the plains of fall 
or in winter now when 
her fur changes and becomes snow 
or her belly hair turns 
the color of red water willows 
at the creek, 
her legs black as trees. 
 
These horses 
almost a shadow, 
broken. 
 
When we walk together 
in the tall grasses, I feel her 
as if I am walking with mystery, 
with beauty and fierce powers, 
as if for a while we are the same animal 
and remember each other from before. 
 
Or sometimes I sit on earth 
and watch the wind blow her mane and tail 
and the waves of dry grasses 
all one way 
and it calls to mind 
how I've come such a long way 
through time  
to find her. 
 
Some days I sing to her 
remembering the Kiowa man 
who sang to cover the screams 
of their ponies killed by the Americans 
the songs I know in my sleep. 
 
Some nights, hearing her outside, 
I think she is to the earth 
what I am to her, 
belonging. 
 
Sometimes it seems as if we knew each other 
from a time before our journeys here 
In secret, I sing to her, the old songs 
the ones I speak in my sleep. 
 
But last night it was her infant that died 
after the kinship and movement 
of so many months 
Tonight I sit on the straw 
and watch as the milk streams from her nipples 
to the ground.  I clean her face. 
I've come such a long way through time 
to find her and 
it is the first time 
I have ever seen a horse cry. 
 
Sing then, the wind says, 
Sing. 
 
 
    I WAS INDIAN is a 128 page hand-stitched paper book with spine.   $16.00 
 
TO ORDER  ON-LINE                                
       
 
From the US        
 
 
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