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The Ghost Dance

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Below is the poem entitled The Ghost Dance which was written by poet Timothy Brumley. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.

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The Ghost Dance

A shaman prays, the Spirit hears
While a Seventh Calvary regiment waits
Unarmed, a tribe endures a Union's hate
Their animosities, and their fears
As the blue coats begin to circle...
Their wrath begins to circle.

That shaman saw but a single Spirit
That was split between different beliefs
He could accept the white Spirit Chief
But the white men would not hear it
They would not blend their God
With the red heathen God.

Anger explodes behind powdered shot
Spraying death from muzzled shame
Cruelly winning their ill gotten fame
Painted heroes claim a tainted spot
History claims the Ghost Dance...
As death claims the last dance.

A Dakota creek runs darkly red
Forever silencing the Ghost Dance
A chanting shaman dies in his trance
One hundred fifty Sioux lay dead
Now, only blue coats remain...
Only the blue remain.

A creek ran red with Union shame
When a shaman called the Spirit Great
And that Spirit did not hesitate
He fell on Wounded Knee and came
To take His people home...
His people swiftly home.

                                     Timothy I. Brumley

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  1. Date: 4/8/2011 7:59:00 PM
    This is a terrific poem, Timothy. I enjoyed learning more about the battle at Wounded Knee. Best to you, Diane

  1. Date: 4/8/2011 2:25:00 PM
    a beautiful write i remember reading about the ghost dance, i got the movie about wounded knee, and it was awlful, the Native American Indians got a real bad deal, and nothing is big done to make up for it. thank you for reading Go To Sleep and for your comment. right now my grandson brandon is sleeping the last three days he has been a little angel.

  1. Date: 4/7/2011 8:35:00 PM
    I too have learnt something here today about your history (U.S) Timothy, your rendering of this period in time, is exceptional, thank you, Harry

  1. Date: 4/7/2011 6:09:00 PM
    I am not familiar with this at all but this sure is interesting-- very vivid piece and I learned something new as well today-- thank you for dropping by my poem :) that's so cool that you've been to the Philippines :) would be a joy to share those native delicacies with you :) Maraming salamat sa pagmamahal ;) hugs

  1. Date: 4/7/2011 10:46:00 AM
    Ah, the battle of Wounded Knee! Thanks for the heads up, Tim. Extraordinary poem in many ways. Writes about history and Native Americans always interest me. You did a great job here! Goes to my faves now. Love, Carolyn

  1. Date: 4/7/2011 9:41:00 AM
    Enjoyed reading your historical write today..Some happening in the past are not good but we can't change the past we can only learn from it..I hope that we as the human race begin to learn.Your kind review of my work is greatly appreciated...Sara

  1. Date: 4/6/2011 1:00:00 AM
    A stunning and stirring write Timothy.. a rousing tale of tragedy and loss .. very descriptive images and visuals luv.. good luck if for the contest ...

  1. Date: 4/5/2011 10:34:00 PM
    Great personal rendition of this historic story that I know so well. Enjoyed your use of repetition here, it ended up working very well for this poem. Excellent.

  1. Date: 4/5/2011 5:02:00 PM
    It wasn't a battle Carolyn, it was a massacre. The great Sioux massacre at Wounded Knee of the Dakota Creek and Sioux Indian reservation.

  1. Date: 4/5/2011 4:44:00 PM
    Captivating poem, Tim. I'm not sure which battle you're referring to, but many Native American tribes were wiped out by the bloody bluecoats. A tragic time in American history. How interesting that the shaman died in a trance while evoking the Spirit Great to bring their souls to heaven. Very compelling write and brilliantly penned! Love, Carolyn