The day before I read "Born Sacred," I asked someone if there was a word for secondhand PTSD, for thinking about what the sound of planes mean to the people of Palestine every time a plane flies over my house. It's not PTSD, really, and it's not exactly fear, but it's a type of physical pain. Secondhand trauma, maybe. Knowing that I'm complicit in the ongoing genocide despite my small efforts to end it.

Smokii Sumac gives voice to all these feelings and more. As a Ktunaxa poet (and transmasculine person), he wrestles with his own ignorance of distant violence even as he processes ancestral trauma and government erasure. He acknowledges that none of us are free until all of us are free, and admits that he bought a tablet despite knowing how our tech is made. Sometimes, it felt like he was plucking thoughts out of my head. Other times, his comparisons of Ktunaxa history and the Palestinian present reinforced a picture that's come into focus only too recently for me.

It seems that there are 100 poems in this collection, but sometimes the ARC copies I get have formatting issues. In my versions, lines breaks were erratic and there was no visual distinction between poems. I have no idea where poems began and ended, and their overlapping themes and recurring imagery made this read like one long piece that all blurred together, which is how the last year and a half or so has felt.

I will always encourage people to read Palestinian voices first, but I felt---and I think many other readers of similar age and circumstance will feel---immense kinship with Sumac's articulation of how surreal it is to balance resistance with practical everyday concerns, or to make dinner while being constantly aware that people whose names and faces are as familiar as a friend's (Bisan, Plestia, Motaz, and in my case, Ibraheem) are under siege and starving. I very much recommend this collection.

Solid poetry collection done by an Indigenous Canadian poet as they witness the ongoing genocide in Palestine.

This poetry collection is as beautiful as it is devastating, yet, extremely necessary reading. I encourage everyone to read this especially those of us who were fighting for Palestine everyday for the last year and a half now.

With every poem I felt my heart constricting and my breath sucked right out of my lungs; I relived so many horrors I repressed and buried deep within me because I couldn't manage to cope with the livestreamed genocide. The use of repetition and cascading words really nails home the sinking feeling of the grief and madness that came with standing up for Palestine. Yet in it was strength in community and comradery.

Reem. Precious Reem. I'll never forget her and the poems including her ripped my ribs right open and took my heart with her. Every face and body came rushing forth with the grief buried deep within me. These poems are full of emotion, rage, anguish, and crushing depression; I felt every last raw evisercating feeling a person could feel. And yet, these poems helped me, it reminded me that you need to feel your grief collectively instead of suffering alone and in silence. There is no strength in solitude and we must rely on one another.

I really adores the inclusion of the author's Khutaxa language and translations, the concept of reconciliation woven throughout the poems really helped ground the grief into action and hope. There is hope in grief and we can continue to fight together.

You can feel the sadness on every page. The similarities in past, present, and eventual future. Brilliantly written, makes you think and absolutely makes you feel.

I thought the preface was a brilliant break down of how deeply rooted the hunger for land can be and how closely related the continued assault on Palestine is much like the perpetual taking of inches of indigenous communities' lands. Throughout the poems, there are continual similarities shared between the history of both issues, and it's like being in the middle of watching history repeat itself-- even with how the pages are set up often, there's this past and future, and present marked by the movement between the two. You can feel the sadness that feels universal of just watching this happen in clips on the news.

Yo se que tengo que leer la descripcion del libro y no basarme en el titulo o en la portada. Tambien se que el arte es una manera de protestar sobre las injusticias del mundo en el que vivimos, pero, hay veces que se vuelve muy repetitivo y quiero creer que si, en parte el libro es original, siento que estoy leyendo lo mismo que en otros libros con el mismo tema.

I got this as an arc on Netgalley and it will come out in April. This poetry book was stunning. It's a beautiful Indigenous, queer and disabled introspective and commentary on what is happening in Palestine, and a very personal and emotional read.

The contrast within the poems opens my heart. This is the type of poetry collection I would shove down in the postal box of all my friends, no note, no explanation, just the words speaking for themselves.

It’s poetry that needs to be read, absorbed, reflected upon. The kind that settles into your bones and changes shape depending on the light. I'm obsessed and will try to acquire a physical copy ASAP - some words are meant to be held and kept permanently.

This is a hard book to rate as it's about such an important and vital topic, one that I am woefully undereducated in. Sumac, an indigenous poet, descended from a colonised nation who experienced genocide first-hand, so he comes at the topic from a place of understanding and empathy.
I often feel I am too stupid for poetry, to really "get" it, but this collection really resonated with me, and I feel like I understand the need to witness these atrocities and feel our feelings deeply.

I do think perhaps the preface may have had more impact had it been at the end of the book, or maybe in sections interspersed. It was a lot to get through before I even got to the poems and figured out if they were for me!

Thanks to #NetGalley for the arc in exchange for an honest review.

This collection is so important. I feel every word of it and I feel so helpless. Can I do more? Can I help these poor people that live in a nightmare? The initiative of this collection is heart warming. But I also hope that I don't have to read a hundred more poems for the people av Palestine.

Thanks to Netgalley, the Publisher and the author for this eARC in exchange for my honest review.

This is a powerful and moving collection exploring the shared suffering between a First Nations tribe in Canada and the conflict in Palestine. The poet writes with passion and energy, using their voice to highlight the tragedies both peoples have experienced.