Linda Hogan
Linda Hogan
Linda K. Hoganis a Native American poet, storyteller, academic, playwright, novelist, environmentalist and writer of short stories. She is currently the Chickasaw Nation's Writer in Residence...
struggle years knowing
There is a still place, a gap between the worlds, spoken by the tribal knowings of thousands of years. In it are silent flyings that stand aside from human struggles and the designs of our own makings. At times, when we are silent enough, still enough, we take a step into such mystery, the place of spirit, and mystery, we must remember, by its very nature does not wish to be known.
years listening-ear tree
A woman once described a friend of hers as being such a keen listener that even the trees leaned toward her, as if they were speaking their innermost secrets into her listening ears. Over the years I’ve envisioned that woman’s silence, a hearing full and open enough that the world told her its stories. The green leaves turned toward her, whispering tales of soft breezes and the murmurs of leaf against leaf.
bricks chunks concrete falling flying heavy struck wife
We had these heavy chunks of concrete and bricks falling on us. Timbers and what-have-you, and my wife was, unfortunately, struck with flying debris,
knowing merit mom national proud selected tough
Especially being selected as a national merit scholar, I'm just fantastically proud of her, ... But it's just real tough knowing that that her mom couldn't be there. That's real hard.
foot front gave strength
That gave me the strength to put one foot in front of another and keep going, ... And that's what we're going to do.
saved
Not much could be saved out of this
grow married
I can't be married to another person for 30 years; I can't grow up with another person -- that just won't happen, not in this lifetime.
You can see what's left, ... Not much could be saved.
highlight remember
You can't remember Mariah Carey ? Hello! That was the highlight of the whole weekend. She's like a princess.
mother knowing-everything secret
I resented my mother for guessing my innermost secrets. She was like God, everywhere at once knowing everything.
bread fats gas
We are full of bread and gas, getting fat on the outside while inside we grow thin
land language arise
There is a language beyond human language, an elemental language, one that arises from the land itself.
dream islands stories
There is a place where the human enters dream and myth, and becomes a part of it, or maybe it is the other way around when the story grows from the body and spirit of humankind. In any case, we are a story, each of us, a bundle of stories, some as false as phantom islands but believed in nevertheless. Some might be true.
death dancing ragged
Death is dancing me ragged.