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Poetry of Arctic and Life Experiences

by Edward Collinson

254 pages; quality trade paperback (softcover); catalogue #02-1352; ISBN 1-55395-636-2; US$21.56, C$27.95, EUR18.20, £12.60

My poetry is inspired by my life as a youth in the Canadian child welfare system and the isolation that it created for the rest of my life.


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about the book      about the author      sample excerpts or Table of Contents      catalogue info

About the Book

As a child, I could not understand why the children got punished because their parents were going through hard times. It was the child that got the blame for the wrongs of the adult. The child was put into homes that needed workers to help on the farms and they were placed their by the Children's Aid. The family was split up so there was no one to play with and in the end the games were played in the ones own mind. My poem, "I Walk Alone" reflects on my pains as a child experiencing difficult times in foster homes and being separated from my family.

When I grew older, to confirm to myself that I had become a man and that I could live on my own, I joined the Canadian Armed Forces. I suppose at the same time, I was looking for friendship. But to tell you the truth, I have never been able to experience a lifetime friendship. I have kept in touch with one army friend, but you could not call it close friends as he did not extend the same willingness to carry on our friendship. This isolation shows up in many of my poems, such as "To Walk in Memories".

The abuse caused by the welfare is one of my most heart felt poems as when I retired. The hard time they gave me in trying to get financial assistance for me and my grandchild was a paltry $116/month. This financial difficulty cumulated with the frustration of not been able to work for a living, gave me the anger inside that inspired me to write poetry for this book.I am not a story writer. I did it in poetry because it seems easier for me to express my thoughts in short writings. There are several poems that relate to the challenges I faced with welfare, "Welfare Pay Day" is one such poem.

Religion is another hard subject for me as it creates a lot of contradictions both in reading it and listening to someone preaching it."Blame It on My Brother" and "What is Sin?" are two poems that express my thoughts on the ambiguity of religion.

In our society we have courts and corruption of courts; they call this law? In "Rule by Elders", I write:"One word in law becomes a book, and in the end the meaning mistook." The drunkenness of judges and lawyers up here was pretty bad. They have tried to clean some of it up but what of the lives they ruined when the were drunk in the court rooms themselves? There is no law when you say to the First Nations that you are under apartheid, which the Indian Act is, but we call it equality. The Indian Act is one law that we cannot have in our society. We cannot have equality when the laws are different for different groups of people. They say it is because of the government. But to my mind, that is even worse as they are the ones that are supposed to make society equal.

I have done many years hunting and trapping up here in the Arctic. We had wide open trap lines but you respected the other person's line. If another trapper was on a certain line first, you made your line some place else. Most of us just got enough fur to support our families. It was the white-man that thought himself one step higher and in the end destroyed the life in the bush for both himself and the natives. I have several poems on my life in the bush, for example, "The Hunter".


About the Author

Edward Roy Collinson born in Fenelon Falls, Ontario, spent 10 years in the child welfare system. These childhood experineces had a profound impact on his life. Following a tour of duty in the Canadian Military, Edward moved to the NWT as a firetower ranger. After living in various Northern communities and nearly 20 years in remote bush homes, Edward is now retired, living in Hay River creating his beloved poetry about his experiences.


Sample Excerpts

THE HURTING PRIDE

As a child I walked alone
No place at all to call a home
A child of Labour at the age of ten
At age 14 were known as men

No Mothers arm when I was hurt
No Fathers hands to brush the dirt
The Love we got was by the strap
They Tie me down by water tap

At Dinner time I did not eat
Blisters on my Back and seat
Force to Walk behind the plow
The things I did I can not now

To miss a Word or Slur my speech
They slap you Twice across the cheek
To cry it Self became a pain
The Work we did was for Their gain

From Day to Day from Week to week
There was no Help that I could seek
The Children aid they put me there
To them it Matter not what's fair

I tell my Tale in need of help
Today I feel Back then I felt
I walk Alone in Old age
No one here to Help me turn the page

No Help from Law or Family tie
Could care Less they hope I die
To Old and Cripple to go to knee
To much Pride to Beg or plea

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

OLD PEOPLE

We built the roads and surveyed the land
We opened it up for the young to stand
To take our place have we done you wrong?
Are we the old coming on to strong?

We have left you more than we ever had
Most of you have taken the 60 fad
We were young and quick and reasonably fit
We have grown old it is your turn for the bit

We are not asking much but a place to live
Our life is passing like through a sieve
We won't be around so very long
You will be were we are singing our song

Time it goes by so very quick
One day you're dressing up real slick
Forty years later you're getting real sick
Life has gone by it feels like a flick

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

GREEN APPLES

The little green apples that fall from the tree
Is in exactly the same position as me
While up in the tree it lives quite well
Down on the earth we both go to hell

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

LET THEM KNOW

Are we so shy that we can't tell
All the politicians to go to hell
The country and the people they take care
And to the people they would not dare

To use there office it would not be keen
For there vote corruption been
But no matter how we make our vote
They all end up in the same old moat

For once in power that they be
The money is so strong you see
All the strength they thought they had
Ended up to be just another fad

It comes and goes with the times
I lied to you now your mine
That is when I would like to see
Back on the streets with you and me

And being corrupt at were they where
In the prison being placed there
And to the rest the message be
They're in the office for you and me

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

THE FIRST RUN OF THE SEASON

Up in the morning by the first light of day
We have a trap line to run there can be no delay
The hitching of dogs that were fed around five
All excited to run and in harness to drive

Having a trap line a hundred miles long
Both you and the dogs will have to be strong
Marten and fox caribou, eaten the moss
Fur being prime into sleigh we will toss

The trip it got started just as it should
A mile out of town we cut through the wood
But just on the side of a four-mile stretch
The swamp that we're crossing had not frozen quite yet

The dogs they got into it the sleigh got froze down
It looked for a while we would end back in town
We worked until four and daylight did fray
We put about camp for in the bush we would stay

It was late in the evening we finally broke free
We worked until midnight making tracks you see
Hoping by morning would be frozen with no over flow
Into our blankets over our heads we let the wind blow

Once more in the morning the day it looked clear
The slew had frozen over no more did we fear
The rest of the trip we will take it with care
The next slew we cross we won't take the dare


Catalogue Information




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