Long Dakota Poems
Long Dakota Poems. Below are the most popular long Dakota by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Dakota poems by poem length and keyword.
‘Wana Hin Gle’ the Lakota call me,
‘Wana Hin Gle’ my given name
‘He Who Happens Now,’ the drumbeat has found me,
reaching into this moment beyond glory and fame
As ‘Wana Hin Gle,’ my spirit has wandered,
as ‘Wana Hin Gle,’ my ancestors call
The questions dissolve, as The Great Mystery beckons,
the campfire eternal, the chanting enthralls
“‘Wana Hin Gle,”’ my Mother calls proudly,
your horse is now waiting, your shield fixed with bone
“Off into the prairie you must ride in the twilight,
the People will dance until their son returns home
“’Wana Hin Gle,’ you must now happen quickly,
the buffalo ravaged, starvation cries loud
“Your eyes to look upon the great Wakan Tanka,
whose absence has shamed us, who once were so proud
“As the great Tasunka Witko who traveled before you,
you must call for your horse to come out of the lake
“Great Mother River and Great Mountain Father,
to your will they entrust what The People forsake
“Your spirit must suffer, the babies still cry,
the cold through the tent flaps, all future in blight
“The hawk comes to guide you, as you pass through the darkness,
the drums of your fathers beat into the night
“You will ride to the top of the ‘Pass Of The Bears,’
ask the Grizzly, our brother, where the demon still hides
“Where it lives, you must kill it, for this time and always,
before it steals our last dream, keeping spirits alive
“The White Horse will take you from the lake to the mountain,
and the stallion will sprout wings with its hooves fiery hot
“You will trample this demon and burn him before you,
the smoke will then signal of what he is not
“‘Wana Hin Gle,’” my son; the time is for going,
your journey awaits, past-futures on hold
“The Medicine Woman is locked deep inside you,
your People die waiting—the young and the old”
(Pine Ridge South Dakota: February, 2011)
From My Novel: “Searching For Crazy Horse”
(A Native American Story)
Iktomi is a spider fairy,
though in truth he is related to mankind.
Like most of mankind
Iktomi is vain, shallow, and mischievous
yet he alone, is the master
of greedy craftiness.
He has long braided hair
and he paints his funny face red.
He draws black circles around his eyes.
His buckskins are beaded and sparkle
day and night.
One day, Iktomi went to Walmart.
the people had never seen a Dakota Sioux legend
strutting through their store
and marveled at his gaudy attire.
Iktomi was very pleased with his appearance
and the impression he was making.
When he reached the aisle
where the canned soups were displayed
he told a worker to open one for him
for he was hungry. It was politely explained
that he would have to buy one.
Iktomi flew into a rage and hopped over the aisle.
He began to throw canned goods at the startled shoppers
but this time he could not intimidate the people
who, by and large, were by nature - large
and as equally as hardy as any warrior.
Several mighty consumers and several sturdy maidens
chased him as he crashed through the
bathroom tissue sections… a mistake
for the beefy shoppers prized toilet paper most highly.
He was carried howling over the heads of the throng
out into the parking lot
where a few off-duty anarchist’s rescued him;
for mischief and mayhem
were again in need of a fake hero.
Apache, the Ndee, "the people" of Arizona and other States
Blackfoot, the Siksika, whose painted red faces we can relate
Cheyenne, the Tsitsistas, meaning relatives of the Cree
Dakota Sioux, the Dakota, meaning little snakes in Ojibwe
Euchee, or Yuchi, are the "children of the sun"
Fox, the Meskwaki, eventually native to Wisconsin
Gros Ventre, strangely named "big belly" by the French
Huron, with their above allies left many a tribe wrenched
Inuit, the Eskimo, this tribe with the snow
Juaneño, from the Sunshine State around Orange and San Diego
Kickapoo, with their linguistic code, unique called "whistle speech"
Lakota, like the Dakota, speak with similar tongues they teach
Mohawk, "People of the Flint" from upstate New York
Navajo, is now the most spoken, where extinction has not gone berserk
Ottawa, "the traders" their name lives on in their City
Potawatomi, "fire keepers" one hundred speakers, my hearts in pity
Qwulhhwaipum, "the prairie people from beyond the mountain range"
Ryawas, by the Missouri River where they no longer reign
Shawnee, meaning "southerner" were a far ranging tribe
Tonkawa, "they keep together" but only a few still reside
Ute, of Colorado and Salt Lake valley fame
Victorious the ones who remain to this day, whilst the V has no name
Wiyot, and its last native speaker, died in 1962
X, xenophobic they would be, to the ancestors of me and you
Yavapai, from Arizona, are the "people of the sun"
Zuni, like all the tribes above, fell victim to the white mans gun.
In the heart of my heart
I cry for you
in the harbor of my despair
I feel your emptiness
a land once yours was lost
stolen by men whose hearts were cold
and whose greed and hate knew no bounds
Prisoners on the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation
where nothing lived
only impoverished people
Once proud warriors who traveled the plains
moving with the winds of freedom
whose tears have fallen upon sacred ground
to be swallowed by the Earth
stripped of your pride
stripped of your guns
A people lost in the wicked transition of time
kept like cattle, treated like dogs
Lonely the empty eyes of the Lakota
when the looked towards the sun
on a Winter December morning
seeing soldiers approaching
in the dim lit shade of sunrise
heavily armed on horseback
dragging four Hotchkiss guns
bringing death to two hundred and fifty
unarmed Lakota men women and children
on the frozen creek bed at Wounded Knee
where cruelity brought its bloody coat from Hell
When it was over vultures picked at the frozen flesh
left to rot in the cold like so much garbage
Twenty soldiers received the medal of honor
for duty above and beyond
for this massacre of innocence
Wounded Knee Massacre
December 29 1890
South Dakota
250 Lakota Souix massacred
by the 7th Calvery
Hotchkiss gun-gatling gun
9/19/20 contest A Historic Event
From distance far she came;
From California she drove;
Notwithstanding the pain.
About halfway here, she stopped in
South Dakota, picking up a family of
special friends. Together they braved the
stormy weather; wind, rain, big rigs and
low visibility, driving till they nearly dropped.
It was to see us, they came.
with a love so deep and pure.
We felt so honored and respected.
Oh, what a reunion there was when
they arrived with so much love to give.
Like a fresh feel of heaven on earth.
What more can mortal ones ask?
Smiles and laughter, prayers and shares.
Fun and games, abundance of foods.
Coffee and water; no wine or other spirits;
But songs in hearts so filled with The Holy Spirit.
We spent some 60 plus blissful hours together.
They came to visit at the end of May;
But it felt like the month of September.
Not the climate, but my heart's emotions;
The feel of something that should not end.
Yes, they and their visit, were like September;
Like an Autumn breeze before a Winter freeze.
Yes, September is a threshold, a living bridge,
Ushering me from and through seasons of
Pleasantries into a Winter season of cold.
Time moves rapidly when you are having fun.
Saying "Hi" is always better than saying goodbye.
We took pictures, kissed and hugged tightly.
Watery eyes were spotted throughout our time
together; and special tears fell and flowed as
they s l o w l y, s l o w l y walked to the car.
Coming is always sweet; leaving, not so much.
What more can you say when there is no other
way? When emotions are stretched to the max
and you cannot stay? What more can you do?
I guess, as best you can, with a heart filled
with tears, 'You Just walk Away'.
Apache, the Ndee, "the people" of Arizona and other States
Blackfoot, the Siksika, whose painted red faces we can relate
Cheyenne, the Tsitsistas, meaning relatives of the Cree
Dakota Sioux, the Dakota, meaning little snakes in Ojibwe
Euchee, or Yuchi, are the "children of the sun"
Fox, the Meskwaki, eventually native to Wisconsin
Gros Ventre, strangely named "big belly" by the French
Huron, with their above allies left many a tribe wrenched
Inuit, the Eskimo, this tribe with the snow
Juaneño, from the Sunshine State around Orange and San Diego
Kickapoo, with their linguistic code, unique called "whistle speech"
Lakota, like the Dakota, speak with similar tongues they teach
Mohawk, "People of the Flint" from upstate New York
Navajo, is now the most spoken, where extinction has not gone berserk
Ottawa, "the traders" their name lives on in their City
Potawatomi, "fire keepers" one hundred speakers, my hearts in pity
Qwulhhwaipum, "the prairie people from beyond the mountain range"
Ryawas, by the Missouri River where they no longer reign
Shawnee, meaning "southerner" were are far ranging tribe
Tonkawa, "they keep together" but only a few still reside
Ute, of Colorado and Salt Lake valley fame
Victorious the ones who remain to this day, whilst the V has no name
Wiyot, and its last native speaker, died in 1962
X, xenophobic they would be, to the ancestors of me and you
Yavapai, from Arizona, are the "people of the sun"
Zuni, like all the tribes above, fell victim to the white mans gun
.
The True American.
MY HEART SINKS, MY EYES WEEP
MY BRAIN EXPLODES, I CAN’T SLEEP
I DON’T UNDERSTAND, I NEVER WILL
A SWEET CHILD WHY DO THE COPS KILL?
CHILDREN WITH CHOCOLATE COLOURED SKIN
HARDLY ALLOWED LET THEIR LIVES BEGIN
INNOCENT UNARMED SIXTEEN AND UNDER
SOMETIMES COPS CALL IT A BLUNDER
JUST A MISTAKE THEY ARE HEARD TO SAY
CHILDREN BEATEN OR SHOT TO DEATH IN USA
THEN CHILDREN LIKE ADERRIEN 11 YEARS OLD
HE LIVED THEN TO HAVE HIS STORY TOLD
LUNGS, RIBS AND LIVER INJURED, AS POLICE SHOT,
A REASON OFFERED BY POLICE THERE WAS NOT
I RESEARCHED WELL, AND FOUND NOT ONE CASE
OF COPS IN USA INJURING A CHILD OF CAUCASION RACE
I FEAR FOR MY BEAUTIFUL GRAND SONS OVER THERE
WITH THEIR BEAUTIFUL DARK SKIN AND CURLY HAIR
I PRAY THEY WILL BE SAFE AND THINGS WILL CHANGE
BECAUSE HATRED OF BLACK SKIN TO ME IS SO STRANGE
THERE ARE AT LEAST 24 KIDS ALL UNDER SIXTEEN YEARS
WHO WOULD BE ALIVE TODAY IF NOT FOR RACIAL FEARS
UNARMED AND INNOCENT, BEATEN OR SHOT , BY A COP
A BOY PUT IN A BURNING BUILDING, THIS MUST STOP.
AFRICAN AMERICAN KIDS FROM 2023 GOING BACK 20 YEARS
THESE ARE THE DEAR ONES THAT DIED AS WE ALL SHED TEARS
BRETT 15 YEARS OLD FANTA 8 YEARS OLD
LA’MELLO 3 MONTHS OLD ANGELO 16 YEARS OLD
DAMON 15 YEARS OLD JORDAN 15 YEARS OLD
TAMIR 12 YEARS OLD CAMERON 14 YEARS OLD
KIMANI 16 YEARS OLD DAKOTA 15 YEARS OLD
BOBBY 15 YEARS OLD JAMES 16 YEARS OLD
AIYANA 7 YEARS OLD LEONA 16 YEARS OLD
KIWANE 15 YEARS OLD YVETTE 15 YEARS OLD
ROBERT 16 YEARS OLD DEAUNTA 12 YEARS OLD
ELLIS 13 YEARS OLD VINCENT 16 YEARS OLD
MARTIN 14 YEARS OLD D’KOY 14 YEARS OLD
MICHAEL 12 YEARS OLD DEJEURN 13 YEARS OLD
THERE IS NOTHING MORE PRECIOUS THAN A CHILD.
TO THINK OF THESE SWEET ONES MAKES ME SO WILD
WHAT THE HELL IS THE DIFFERENCE BLACK OR WHITE?
WHEN ARE COPS GOING TO START THINKING RIGHT?
OK I HAD MY SAY. BLM EVERY DAY!
This statue of four done the American way
For the Black Hills of Dakota, with the Lakota should stay
Carved to commemorate, the first one hundred and fifty years
This new nation built, on Red Indian tears
Washington, Jefferson, Lincoln and Roosevelt
This area Six Grandfathers, the Fort Laramie Treaty has dealt
Then the Indian Wars in the years 1876-77
What happened to perpetuity that was taken from them
Somewhere through the years a decision was made
Carved by the Borglum's to the Lakota they degrade
An AIM occupation, as recent as 1971
In memory of The Six Grandfathers, who were once their ancestors sons
Time has moved on further from those days of long ago
But the Six Grandfathers memories will once again flow
For in the Black Hills of Dakota, they will once again rise
For the Crazy Horse Memorial, will proudly be seen through the Lakota's eyes
The modern America you see, will know it simply as this
Mount Rushmore and four Presidents, against the Lakota's last wish
Time moves on and it certainly never stands still
Its the history of us humans, that we take at will
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mount_Rushmore
Into the badlands we travel with hearts full of infinite hope.
Ecosystem in this national park fosters four hundred species of life.
Sedimentary layers of pink, tan and white look like soap.
Into the badlands we travel with hearts full of infinite hope.
Oglala Lakota people named it land bad as they learned to cope.
Ghost dances are performed there around indigenous fires of rope.
Black footed ferrets are chasing prairie dogs who understand strife.
Into the badlands we travel with hearts full of infinite hope.
Ecosystem in this national park fosters four hundred species of life.
Written 10-25-2020
Contest: Pick a Title Vol 24 Triolet Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
She was a wily cigar chompin' gambler with the moniker of Poker Alice,
Renowned throughout the west for her skill in many a gamblin' palace!
Poker Alice had a good head for countin' and with her very cunnin' guile,
(Plus her beauty), she mesmerized her opponents, amassin' quite a pile!
Poker Alice worked in saloons across the west as a faro and poker dealer.
She worked in Creede, Colorado for Bob Ford, that notorious stealer!
Because of her pious rearin' as a girl, she refused to work on Sundays,
But she was back smokin' a two-dollar stogie and dealin' cards on Mondays!
She drifted to Deadwood, South Dakota, where her notoriety was well known,
And married a house painter named Tubbs who was a deft gambler on his own!
Later she established a brothel near Fort Mead Army Post with her ill-gotten gain.
The place was small and she needed funds to fix the 'house' on Pleasure Lane!
To expand and recruit 'soiled doves' from Kansas City she applied for a loan.
The banker scratched his skull sayin', "I dunno! That's a risk into the unknown!"
She convinced him notin' that The Grand Old Army had an encampment near,
And for the soldiers' bent for visitin' hog ranches, he had nothin' at all to fear!
Things didn't go well since she plumb forgot The Methodist Preachers' Convention,
Convened each and every year and she hadn't figured on that intervention!
Poker Alice's fame and notoriety followed her well beyond her wanin' years.
She died after a gall bladder operation with her 'house' payments in arrears!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Placed No. 4 in Don Johnson's " Your Old Ballad Or Rhyme - Best Of All Time" Contest
July 2011