The white man stole their land
now the red man has the blues
the white man sold their families
and the black man's still ill-used
the white man shot the American buffalo
now the red man sings the blues
the white man put their people in chains
and the black man's grief accrues
the white house is to blame
the Government just the same
the white man broke the treaties
now the red man feels the blues
the white man did the dirty
and the black man he's abused
the white man has no conscience
but the red man has the blues
no the white man does not care
tho' the black man's overdue
the white house is to blame
the Government it is too
My love is like a tornado
Sifting through the grains of life.
I was one to be a button on a shirt.
But I know I see I’m another wingless bird.
And I will fall off the cliff until they grow.
I will fall off the cliff until they grow.
I will follow the wind of the buffalo.
The white man stole their land
now the red man has the blues
the white man sold their families
and the black man's still ill-used
the white man shot the American buffalo
now the red man sings the blues
the white man put their people in chains
and the black man's grief accrues
the white house is to blame
the Government just the same
the white man broke the treaty
now the red man feels the blues
the white man did the dirty
and the black man he's abused
the white man has no conscience
but the red man has the blues
no the white man does not care
tho' the black man's overdue
the white house is to blame
the Government it is too
Black Diamond lived in New York City’s Central Park Zoo
From 1893 to 1915, and he was popular too.
This bison was honored by the US buffalo nickel which looked like him.
His caretakers gave Black Diamond all kinds of treats, on a whim.
Where have all the bison gone
shot by Sharps shooters nearly every one
where have all the shooters gone
done away by Indians more than some
the red man revered the buffalo
of Manitou's abundance living proof
to the white who sent them
to the not-so-happy-hunting grounds
a gold mine on the hoof
the paleface ways in olden days long gone
were somewhat less than perfect
and should be frowned upon
to soldiers bison were target practice
indigenous people to quell
while hunters killed for the hides
by 1884 the Black Hills buffalo death knell
lies were spoken treaties broken
but revenge was none too soon at hand
Sioux Cheyenne Arapaho attacked
and briefly turned the tide
on what was their rightful land
beside the Little Bighorn
one frightful day at Custer's last stand
A fly so audacious and small,
Tried to land on a buffalo's ball.
The beast gave a twitch,
And sent him a hitch,
"That's not landing," he buzzed, "not at all!"
©bfa032225
In a canvas alive with whispers of green and blue/
A giant buffalo stands, proud, bold, with majesty pride/
Its horns, like arching galaxies reach for the sky/
The buffalo stands, proud, bold, a spirit true in hues that electrify the vibrant African plans long and wide/
Against the vibrant tapestry he commands your sight, a symbol of strength, a guardian of the night/
With every stroke of color, the heartbeat of the wild, a masterpiece of nature, untamed and undefiled/
Two black birds, guardians, perch near its might, they dance on the buffalo, in the soft morning light, Contrasting silhouettes, sharp against the hue, they whisper stories of the earth, in the vast African blue/
For in this vivid moment, in this sacred space, lives the spirit of the buffalo, his the freedom we embrace/
In the dance of the buffalo, where nature's voice resounds/ African history must be recognized as the birthplace of all humankind/
Buffalo woman knew the value of life
She understood the beauty of the mountains
Anticipated the ebbing of the night skies
She appreciated the sprinkling sound of autumn leaves
Buffalo was her power animal
She was fierce, determined, resolute and resilient.
Resourceful, she could take little and make a lot.
People sought her out for her wisdom.
She did not force her truths on people.
They figured out that she knew without knowing how she knew.
She was an oracle for the Apache tribe,
One of their most cherished treasures.
Alexander buffalo can’t dance even for grass.
His imbecilic jitterbug keeps leaving many nimble organists perplexed
Quickstepping really scares the unprepared viewer
While Xander yells, ‘Zumba!’
beware of black death
africa’s cape buffalo
they even charge cars
They thundered across the fertile plains,
Those hardened hooves, those tangled manes,
But now the Buffalo can't be found.
They thundered across the fertile plains.
The long grass has vanished from the ground
Where cities and highways now abound.
They thundered across the fertile plains,
Those hardened hooves, those tangled manes.
brother buffaloes wait for us on the plain
we give thanks to our father sky
Apaches will eat well tonight
the hunt begins
Its the slight waft of rotting flesh
That first hits you
While the smartly dressed
Smiling warden ushers you in,
Through narrow turnstiles
There are rows of enclosures
A maze of them, a maze of the wild
Its like a snapshot of danger
A dangerous predator-laden savanna
Danger enclosed
Lions...
You will hear their shouting matches
Royal majestic roars
Like cage competitions
Even the females join in
While one stares you down
Sizing you up
Like a piece of flesh
(Well come to think of it...)
Some males lie down
Nonchalant
Amidst the noise
The leopard paces in its enclosure
Waiting for its daily ration
While the young buffalo
Grazes nervously,
Its enclosure next to the lions
They have emergency exits
Just in case...
You will spot a Serval cat
A croc, bored
And nervous rare Sokoke cats
Terribly out of place...
Buffalo wings, buffalo wings, buffalo wings
when I was young, just a boy
the skies overflowed with flying buffalo.
Take shelter for if you looked up
splat on your face from a buffalo butt
Now the poor creatures grounded for we clip their wings
deep fried and tasty sauces they are a favorite food thing
Herds of buffalo floating in the sky
kids waving at them as they mozy by
Peaceful and plentiful wouldn't hurt a fly
but sad for them their wings we fried
Poor buffaloes on foot they must roam
no longer in the air can they call home
Buffalo hunting a dangerous sport indeed
shot from the sky hunters squashed for their deed
O poor bison how now life must stink
hunted for their wings on the brink of extinct
So when chowing down on their tasty wings
watching sports with friends gathering
Why is the taste not what your expecting
cause buffalo wings taste just like chicken.
she was homely and plain
Buffalo Bill dressed her poster up, pretending pretty
the men would not come to watch her shoot
if they knew the truth about Annie Oakley
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