I was born with eyes that can never close. Joy Harjo More Quotes by Joy Harjo More Quotes From Joy Harjo Bottom line, I have to follow what my soul says, or my spirit. And my spirit said that poetry and the arts should be without borders, should be without political borders. Joy Harjo my-soulpoliticalpoetrysoul We're all given something to do. And when we don't follow what we're supposed to do, we always know when we're off track. Joy Harjo followsomethingknowalways I come from a long line of revolutionaries. Joy Harjo long-linelinecomelong My ancestors include Monahwee, who was one of the leaders in the Red Stick War, which was the largest Indian uprising in history, and Osceola, who refused to sign a treaty with the United States. Joy Harjo ancestorsredwarhistory I never fit in. Everyone knew my dad was Indian. I was half-Indian. Joy Harjo everyoneneverindiandad When explorers first encountered my people, they called us heathens, sun worshippers. They didn't understand that the sun is a relative and illuminates our path on this earth. Joy Harjo understandpathsunpeople I am a member of the Muskogee people. I'm a poet, a musician, a dreamer of sorts, a questioner. Like everyone else, I'm looking for answers of some sort or the other. Joy Harjo everyonei-amlookingpeople Most people don't know that Congo Square was originally a Muscogee ceremonial ground... in New Orleans, the birthplace of jazz. Joy Harjo newknowjazzpeople You just go where poetry is, whether it's in your heart or your mind or in books or in places where there's live poetry or recordings. Joy Harjo youpoetrymindheart You can't look for love, or it will run away from you. But, you know, don't look for it. Don't look for it. Just go where it is and appreciate it, and, you know, it will find you. Joy Harjo lookyouappreciatelove I chose poetry. Actually, poetry chose me. Joy Harjo choseactuallymepoetry The radio is playing jazz, and I listen to the sound of the trumpet playing a solo until I become that sound. Joy Harjo listenjazzradiosound I hear from my Inuit and Yupik relatives up north that everything has changed. It's so hot; there is not enough winter. Animals are confused. Ice is melting. Joy Harjo confusedenoughhotwinter I love the sound of the saxophone. It became my singing voice, and it sounds so human. The saxophone could carry the words past the border of words. It can carry it a little bit farther. Joy Harjo wordssinginglovepast My mother wrote lyrics and sang but was overtaken by life with four children and worked. Joy Harjo lyricsmotherlifechildren
