Natani Notah – Poetry
Baby Mama
That eagle eye rolled around on the ground.
The baby played with that eye and put it into its mouth.
The Baby Mama never reprimanded the baby,
Because she was too high to even remember that she had one.
The years passed and the baby grew into a toddler and sprouted wings.
The baby grew into a young child and she grew a beak.
The baby grew into adolescence and acquired a full body of feathers.
The baby grew into an adult and acquired a set of her very own eagle eyes.
The baby turned into an eagle and her mama never even noticed,
Because she was too high to even remember that she had one.
Nobody knew the baby had turned into an eagle,
Because her mama had never taken her outside.
They didn’t know she turned into an eagle,
Because they didn’t even know she existed.
Colored Landscape
Honey bones stitched together with red dirt,
Mixed with water to make clay pots fired until hard,
Winters left feet frozen with black dirt,
Mixed with tears to make him feel bad for hurting you
Are too sensitive to attacks with brown dirt,
Mixed with gunpowder to make homes empty,
Meaningless apologies to make agreements,
Mixed with dirty water to make her children say yes.
Natani Notah is a Navajo (Diné), Lakota and Cherokee interdisciplinary artist and writer. Born and raised in San Bernardino, CA. She obtained her B.F.A. from Cornell University’s College of Architecture, Art, and Planning with a minor in Feminist, Gender, and Sexuality Studies from the College of Arts and Sciences in 2014. Rooted in reclaiming agency, her work serves as an elaborate portrait of the social displacement of Indigenous people in the United States. Currently she is working as a Communications Assistant for the American Indian Program (AIP) at Cornell University, before pursuing an M.F.A. or Masters in Social Justice and Human Rights. You can find her online at www.nataninotah.com
As Us 