James Fraser Poet Rhyme

Lakota

I'm very small
I am called Standing Tall
My story to be read as i live through it all.

Our Dakota lands are forest and vast
Where our ancestors have hunted
From long in the past.

Our tribes are, a confederation of seven
With our language of Lakota, Sioux heaven
We stand proud as we remember our past
And look to our gods, to make it all last.

A silhouette on the prairie hill i see
This shape in the distance is new to me
As we sleep in the night, we hear guns and blows
We arise from our camp, to look for the noise
We creep on the prairie to their surprise
Under the moon, where the land would flow
No longer the Buffalo.

We mount our ponies to challenge these men
What gives them this right to kill and maim
Bodies of beasts, furs cut away
Missing heads, a ghastly slay.

On reaching their camp our bows stretched
Arrows screech, hit the wretched
Watch them fall to the prarie floor
Just like the Buffalo did hours before.

Years have passed as we are moved from our lands
These poisonous men, and their poisonous glands
Bringing illness fever and strife
Ending many a Lakota life.

We reach a point in History
Which made the white man sit up and see
Their Golden Child General George Custer
And the Little Big Horn, my what a disaster.

Arapaho, Cheyenne and us Lakota too
Sliced the Blue Jackets, their Scouts too
The US Cavalry would have their glee
At the Battle Of Wounded Knee
Where Siiting Bull would finally rest
Standing Tall's story last's the test
If we Indians had the same resources
Like the silhouette on the hill
These praries we always had. would be ours still.


http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/native-americans.php

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Poet Destroyer A March 3, 2013 at 8:51 AM James, many blessings on your featured poem this passed week. Have yourself a new and awesome week.:-) Always & Forever * LINDA

Sara Kendrick August 8, 2009 at 10:39 AM Great story telling set to rhyme. Keep writing. Sara

Melody Coster June 13, 2009 at 11:40 AM Another great write James. I have seen the lands you speak of in this piece as my mother and I drove back to South Dakota where she lived for a number of years and graduated High School while living there. Her father (my grandfather) was actually a Star Mail route carrier while living back there and actually delivered mail to several Indian emcampments. I too have been told that O.O. Howard is an actual decendant and was involved in the events surrounding Chief Joseph of the Nex Pierce. Melody?

Carolyn Devonshire April 26, 2009 at 12:40 PM Remarkable story that evokes images of the buffalo slaughter in "Dances with Wolves." I love the way Standing Tall's story unfolds. I think we are clones in writing style and subject matter. So eerie. Earlier had a poem "Trail of Tears" posted here, and ALSO had a poem "Sea Monsters?" about Loch Ness. My living room is decorated with Native American artifacts, probably remnants from a past life. I hope you guide others to this poem. Some go unseem when posted with many others. Love, CD