Linda Hogan

Linda Hogan Poems

There is nothing more innocent
than the still-unformed creature I find beneath soil,
neither of us knowing what it will become
...

I am always watching
the single heron at its place
alone at water, its open eye,
one leg lifted
...

How something is made flesh
no one can say. The buffalo soup
becomes a woman
who sings every day to her horses
...

Some of us are like trees that grow with a spiral grain
as if prepared for the path of  the spirit's journey
to the world of all souls.
...

The language of cranes
we once were told
is the wind. The wind
is their method,
...

6.

It was the time before
I was born.
I was thin.
I was hungry. I was
...

To be held
by the light
was what I wanted,
to be a tree drinking the rain,
...

With lines unseen the land was broken.
When surveyors came, we knew
what the prophet had said was true,
this land with unseen lines would be taken.
...

9.

The weight of a man on a woman
is like falling into the river without drowning.

Above, the world is burning and fighting.
Lost worlds flow through others.
...

In the dark evening, my father and I
walk down the road to the old house
where my grandmother lived,
and we see through the door an old woman's feet
...

Sometimes the way to milk and honey is through the body.
Sometimes the way in is a song.
But there are three ways in the world: dangerous, wounding,
and beauty.
...

When the body wishes to speak, she will
reach into the night and pull back the rapture of  this growing root
which has little faith in the other planets of the universe, knowing
only one, by the bulbs of the feet, their branching of toes.
...

First
there was some other order of things
never spoken
but in dreams of darkest creation.
...

This is the word that is always bleeding.
You didn't think this
until your country changes and when it thunders
you search your own body
...

We had been together so very long,
you willing to swim with me
just last month, myself merely small
in the ocean of splendor and light,
...

Linda Hogan Biography

Linda K. Hogan (born 1947 Denver) is a Native American poet, storyteller, academic, playwright, novelist, environmentalist and writer of short stories. She is currently the Chickasaw Nation's Writer in Residence.)

The Best Poem Of Linda Hogan

Innocence

There is nothing more innocent
than the still-unformed creature I find beneath soil,
neither of us knowing what it will become
in the abundance of the planet.
It makes a living only by remaining still
in its niche.
One day it may struggle out of its tender
pearl of blind skin
with a wing or with vision
leaving behind the transparent.

I cover it again, keep laboring,
hands in earth, myself a singular body.
Watching things grow,
wondering how
a cut blade of grass knows
how to turn sharp again at the end.

This same growing must be myself,
not aware yet of what I will become
in my own fullness
inside this simple flesh.

Linda Hogan Comments

Hola, soy yo 20 November 2018

Very bad, where is the one of Predators

7 0 Reply
oofergang 20 November 2018

GOOD JOB DAD u u u u u u u u u u u u u u u u u u u are so good daddy oof man

0 1 Reply

kindly these two poems, The Fallen and Gather, i want

3 0 Reply
Jaqueline 17 March 2018

were is the poem predators

9 1 Reply
Mountain Man 27 April 2017

Love your poems. Linda very inspiring, THX...

4 0 Reply

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