Related quotes: An introductory lecture This morning...

Money

An introductory lecture

This morning we shall spend a few minutes
Upon the study of symbolism, which is basic
To the nature of money. I show you this nickel.
Icons and cryptograms are written all over
The nickel: one side shows a hunchbacked bison
Bending his head and curling his tail to accommodate
The circular nature of money. Over him arches
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA, and, squinched in
Between that and his rump, E PLURIBUS UNUM,
A Roman reminiscence that appears to mean
An indeterminately large number of things
All of which are the same. Under the bison
A straight line giving him a ground to stand on
Reads FIVE CENTS. And on the other side of our nickel
There is the profile of a man with long hair
And a couple of feathers in the hair; we know
Somehow that he is an American Indian, and
He wears the number nineteen-thirty-six.
Right in front of his eyes the word LIBERTY, bent
To conform with the curve of the rim, appears
To be falling out of the sky Y first; the Indian
Keeps his eyes downcast and does not notice this;
To notice it, indeed, would be shortsighted of him.
So much for the iconography of one of our nickels,
Which is now becoming a rarity and something of
A collectors’ item: for as a matter of fact
There is almost nothing you can buy with a nickel,
The representative American Indian was destroyed
A hundred years or so ago, and his descendants’
Relations with liberty are maintained with reservations,
Or primitive concentration camps; while the bison,
Except for a few examples kept in cages,
Is now extinct. Something like that, I think,
Is what Keats must have meant in his celebrated
Ode on a Grecian Urn.
Notice, in conclusion,
A number of circumstances sometimes overlooked
Even by experts: (a) Indian and bison,
Confined to obverse and reverse of the coin,
Can never see each other; they are looking
In opposite directions, the bison past
The Indian’s feathers, the Indian past
The bison’s tail; (c) they are upside down
To one another; (d) the bison has a human face
Somewhat resembling that of Jupiter Ammon.
I hope that our studies today will have shown you
Something of the import of symbolism
With respect to the understanding of what is symbolized.

poem by Howard Nemerov
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes

Dzit Bizhi Adini, I

[In the Navajo Language the
title is 'Mountain with no name.']
Part 1

Let us go, you and I,
To the Henry Mountains,
Way up high, tracking bison
At 10,000 feet; purebred bison,
That can hear our bare feet, and scatter.
No one to alarm us,
Since love has been breeding
Like the bison over the continent.
But I have to ask whether I love you:
If you are a calyx I do;
If you are but a shankshaft I don't know; if you are a morel who's to say.
And what if we happen to intertwine,
High on sunlit limestone porches, in those
Nameless Mountains.
Would the bison be
Aware?

poem by Stan Petrovich
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ten Little Indians

Ten little indian boys
The first little indian gave squaw pretty feather
(little indian boy)
The second little indian made her an indian dollar
(fighting over a squaw)
Well the third little indian gave her moccasin leather
(little indian boy)
The squaw didnt like em at all
The fourth little indian took her riding in his big canoe
(little indian boy)
The fifth little indian took her down the waterfall
(fighting over a squaw)
The sixth little indian taught the squaw how to woo-woo
(little indian boy)
But the squaw didnt like em at all
One little, two little, three little indians
(keep us humming were the ten little indians)
Four little, five little, six little indians
(keep us humming were the ten little indians)
Seven little, eight little, nine little indians
(keep us humming were the ten little indians)
Ten little indian boys
The seventh little indian took her over to his teepee
(little indian boy)
The eighth little indian tried to give her a love poem
(fighting over a squaw)
The ninth little indian said youre my kemosabe
(little indian boy)
The squaw didnt like em at all
The tenth little indian said it really didnt matter
(little indian boy)
He acted like himself and he didnt look at her
(fighting over a squaw)
The squaw didnt care if he never did a thing
(little indian boy)
Cause she loved the tenth indian boy
Loved the tenth indian boy
Loved the tenth indian boy
Loved the tenth indian boy

song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It's The Conquerors Who Write The History

As they chased the wild bison on horse back they whooped and cheered loud
And they were great hunters so noble and proud
But now on the prairies the bison are rare
And the people who hunted them no longer there.

Of the great Northern Land the first people till the invaders came
And their tragic dispossession is a thing of great shame
Conquered and put into reservations for to grow old and die
The rights of Indigenous people to them did not apply.

It's the conquerors who write history as we have been told
And men they have murdered for Land and for Gold
But what matters most when history we trace
That a Country's first people must take pride of place.

You great country singers with your golden guitars,
You politicians and tycoons and billionaire movie stars
There once was a people far greater than you
And to Mother Nature they were far more true.

And the workings of Nature they did understand
And they were the people who cared for the Land
And they were displaced and oppressed and down trod
By those who believed in a different God.

They once were great warriors, wise, noble and proud
And they gave us Chief Seattle and wise Chief White Cloud
And their profound words of wisdom still living today
And such things of great beauty will never decay.

The truth may seem bitter but the truth we must face
That a Country's first people should take pride of place
And around the World Indigenous people are not treated well
Though they have such marvellous stories to tell.

The conquerors write the history as conquerors do
But to the true history they never are true
And the conquered the history never will write
And we are conditioned to believe that might is always right.

The changes keep happening and nothing seem to last
And the great herds of bison a thing of the past
And those who once hunted them were locked away
And in reservations were forced for to stay.

Out on the lone prairie their ghosts still reside
At midnight the hunters their spotted horses ride
As they chase the wild bison across the great plain
The past in the moonlight comes to life again.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Think Back, O Indian!

O Indian, O Indian!
Why not you think awhile?
How came your freedom?
How came this soil?
How came your brothers?
Why do you toil?
What’s your heritage?
What’s your love?
What’s your advantage?
Just think it now.

O Indian, O Indian!
Why don’t you muse awhile?
What makes up India?
What are its states?
What are its rivers?
Who are your mates?
Whose blood in you flows?
Who are your neighbors?
Why fight with brothers?
Just think it now.

O Indian, O Indian!
Why not you brood awhile?
What are your dangers?
What integrates?
What are your misgivings?
How do you solve?
Where’s your heart now?
Where is your soul?
Where’s your peace of mind?
Just think it now.

poem by John Celes
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A Coin

Your western heads here cast on money,
You are the two that fade away together,
Partners in the mist.

Lunging buffalo shoulder,
Lean Indian face,
We who come after where you are gone
Salute your forms on the new nickel.

You are
To us:
The past.

Runners
On the prairie:
Good-by.

poem by Carl Sandburg
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