Long Native american Poems
Long Native american Poems. Below are the most popular long Native american by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Native american poems by poem length and keyword.
We Are The Ghost Dance Poets
by David Lee Herring (The Powwow Poet)
We come together from near and far
Like wise men following the star
from the sweet Grass Hills, We come to be filled
with the Spirit from on high
Holy Great Spirit in the Sky
Calls us to come together now
He’s our grandfather, he’ll teach us how
Peace and Love will prevail
For we are the Ghost Dance Poets
Summoned together by Great Spirit
Fighting this battle with pen instead of arrow
Taking the path that is the most narrow
Calling all humanity
to come together in unity
We paddle down the Zuni River
As through rusty red silt she slivers
On this quest to quench the thirst of our souls
we surrender all control
to the guidance of Great Spirit
We answer his Call as we hear it
With the rattle of the Gourd and the beat of the drum
We all come together as one
For we are the Ghost Dance Poets
Summoned together by Great Spirit
Fighting this battle with pen instead of arrow
Taking the path that is the most narrow
Calling all humanity
to come together in unity
Some begin their journey at Bear Butte
Others start their passage at Pahuk
All from different nations and tribes
For We are Great Spirit's Scribes
His poems pour forth from our tongues
We sing songs like our Fathers have sung
Prophetic rhymes of warning to mankind
earth is your mother, respect and love her
We all sprang up from her soil
Now we must all join in and toil
Gather and labor together to save her
For we are the Ghost Dance Poets
Summoned together by Great Spirit
Fighting this battle with pen instead of arrow
Taking the path that is the most narrow
Calling all humanity
to come together in unity
See, Wounded Knee could not stop the poets
Over a hundred years ago and We still hear it
The sound of the drum calling us to come
and all join together in the circle
And once again there'll be miracles
Bringing healing to our bodies and souls
As from all tribes together we dance
For Dance is a form of romance
It's Intimacy with the Holy One
As all of his daughters and sons
Worship the Father together as one
For that is how true healing comes
For we are the Ghost Dance Poets
Summoned together by Great Spirit
Fighting this battle with pen instead of arrow
Taking the path that is the most narrow
Calling all humanity
to come together in unity
Pretty like the crystalline canyon rocks -
Fair like a deer wandering in the morn' -
With the Great Spirit as a faithful witness
A baby girl named Red Feather was born
And for her onyx eyes and ruddy cheeks
An angel was sent with kisses to adorn.
Her misery began with John Martin -
A white trader of uncouth demeanor
Who took one day a Navajo woman
As payment for whiskey and gunpowder
And soon his bride realized an inheritance
But in so doing died young in labor.
Red Feather lived - lived with a cruel father
Who cursed her and of her did not boast -
Withholding not his friends who laughed at her
And was ignored by passersby the most -
Irretrievably lost between two worlds
That scorned red highlights and native clothes
Until one day when grief overwhelmed her -
She ran away - against the blinding tears -
Where else but to the village of her mother
But discovered that they too made jeers
At the sight of her and there enslaved her
And instead of love - realized her worst fears.
But solace found Red Feather at moments
When she'd steal away to Spirit Canyon
To gaze upon the weathered petroglyphs.
Silence touched her heart every now and then
As she'd sit among the lonely rifts
And consider the Earth with the heavens.
There among them was one where an artist
Told of the wish of an ancient warrior
To jump the cliff and join the gentle spirits
That captured Red Feather's awe in particular
And since the life ahead held not her interest
She soon desired him and her mother
So it happened during one nice spring day:
The wildflowers breezed as she took the path -
Eagles circled above her at midday
And Red Feather stood on the edge with wrath -
Embraced the sky and Sun and leapt away -
Seeking what the next world might have.
Since that time many a wayward Navajo
And traveler alike claim to have seen
Red Feather come to them - white with glow -
And swear wholly it was not of a dream
But that she lives - she lives as a ghost
Wandering along the cliffs and beneath.
So should you come to Navajo Country
Look sharp - Red Feather's spirit takes flight.
She may run silently with a clan of coyotes
Or dance in the shadows of your firelight.
She may be the breeze that blows softly
Or the silver mist that rises at night.
She frowned at him, still dressed in his skins,
then cast her gaze upon sweet Nell.
“Why do you bring a savage with you?
Long, lost, little brother, do tell?”
Prent knew this would be a hard sell.
“She’s your niece,”he informed,”My little girl.
I came home so she could learn the ways of the world.”
Annabeth laughed, then she glowered at him.
“If only our father could see you now.
Consorting with whores, laying with squaws,
that’s how he figured you would turn out.”
But Prent would let no one talk down.
“I came here to settle, and do right by Nell.
If you don’t want to help me, I’ll do it myself!”
Annabeth sighed, and motioned them inside,
but the scowl never did leave her face.
“Mother, I’m afraid, was laid up by a stroke,
I’ve taken over running this place.
I guess you and your…child can stay.
But I’m telling you now, just so you know,
I’m not associating with folks in such ratty clothes!”
The days that came transformed them both
Into good facsimiles of civilized folk.
Prent wore waist-coats, Nell put on a dress
With a high collar that nearly choked,
So tight it was that poor Nell spoke:
“Daddy, daddy! It huwrts my neck!”
Said Annabeth,”Child, you’ll get used to that.”
Days went by and a tutor was hired,
to try and teach the irrepressible girl.
Annabeth grimly took it on herself
to impart on her manners of the world,
still scowling at her like a churl.
While Prent went to his brother Ike,
to see if the banker had a job he’d like.
But luck was not with him at the bank,
owned sixty years by his family.
He still had no skill for business talk,
or keeping the customers happy.
He found his spirits soon flagging.
Plus, when it came to finding a love,
it seemed he was cursed by Heaven above.
Some would walk with him if he called,
but most ran when they learned of Nell.
One was so shocked he’d married a squaw
that she loudly condemned him to Hell.
In truth, it was all just as well.
A mother, he thought, Nell needed to grow,
but none of these women would make that so.
A month passed, and things grew strained,
Annabeth seemed more and more disturbed.
“She won’t learn her manners, and only talks
about trapping, horses, and pet squirrels!
That’s no kind of talk for a young girl!”
She threw up her hands, and said,”I’m done!
There is no helping that little one.”
CONTINUES IN PART III...
Dear Thom the Train
Attorney Page,
Defender of all Creatures
here below
in these DisUniting States
of throwback uncivil disunion,
What is your root foundation
for a constitutional argument
that all living residents
of these remaining United Democratic States
have a right
to restoring healthy justice,
to resiliently retaining healthy life?
Is this sacred democratic Source
inter-related with values
like well-being
prosperity
liberty
public health optimization,
declarations of defensive rights
for all Creation
to freely seek democratic empowerment
and liberating enlightenment?
Non-royalist
non-fascist
non-authoritarian
non-patriarchal
non-colonizing
non-racist
non-demonizing
non-anthropocentric,
non-xenophobic
non-narcissistic
non-egocentric
and, thereby, pro-green new and ancient win/win deals.
I am not a lawyer,
as you can clearly already hear,
but more of a constitutional
polycultural historian,
So, how do you briefly argue
in courts of your licit choosing,
an evolutionary theory
of democracy still healthily emergent?
Starting with straight
white
patriarchal property owners
of
African and Native American
domesticated and feminized
economic and political
natural and spiritual slaves,
Moving multiculturally out
to include prisoners
and homeless shelter dwellers,
human
and now our imprisoned
and life-endangered dogs
and cats,
horses
and cattle,
birds
and guines pigs
of democratic tensions
intentions
extensions
of dominating fraternity
and liberating sorority.
History shows
where our constitutional democratic story began
with white straight male slave-owner privilege,
But, how do you predict where
and when this evolving
expanding
emergent cooperative health-wealthing
cooperative reality
should
or could
or would globally end?
Or,
it is your brief courtship win/win position
that we must expect no such end
to this multiculturally revolutionary
democratic 20/20 revolution?
Moving from more Straight White Patriarchal
independence days
toward more resiliently fulfilling
Earth InterDependence Days
and sensory moonlit nights
Of freely orbiting stars
and planets
from democratizing Positive/Negative
Yang/Yin Energy
Empowering health,
Enlightening true and beautiful
polycultural
trans-historic
epic green
democratic wealth.
VII.
Reid’s eyes widened with the realization,
she was with child? How long had she known?
His mind reeled and more men gathered outside,
by this time his cover had been long blown.
He glanced down upon red Wolf struggling,
then at the woman who haunted his dreams,
forced to chose between revenge or his love,
just minutes ago so simple it seemed.
He glanced at Mink, and she looked back at him,
said, “If you will spare him, I will go with you.
Take me and our child far from this place,
just please do not do what you came to do.”
Red Wolf argured back, speaking in Cheyenne,
traded words with both his daughter and wife,
then Mink said,”He says he will let me go,
that I bring shame to his lodge and his life.
“He says we should both ride away quickly,
that if we do so he’ll delay the chase.
He says a whore daughter is bad enough,
but bearing your son makes me a disgrace.”
Tears streamed down her face as she said the words,
her mother joined in with an acid tounge,
Reid felt something break through his burning rage,
asked, “Do you truly carry my little one?”
When Mink nodded, he pushed Red Wolf forwards,
keeping his knife at the neck of the chief,
the whole band stayed back as they walked through the camp,
Mink ran ahead and two horses did seek.
She mounted first, Reid pushed Red Wolf away,
leapt on a horse and away they did sprint,
the two kept riding for hours that night,
pushing their mounts through second and third winds.
Red Wolf, it seemed, kept his word to the two,
no pursuit was launched by the Cheyenne braves,
but Reid knew now he could never go home,
he had failed to get revenge for the raid.
In the end he took her to the white world,
back to the people he’d not known since youth,
and I see from your looks that you have doubts,
but what I’m telling you is the plain truth.
I know because my father told it to me,
of how he came to Kansas with his squaw,
I was not that child, I came later,
Mink made Gray Fox ten times over a pa.
He doesn’t talk about it all that much,
most of the details mother told to me,
but when he does, a look comes to his eyes,
a look that’s haunting too all who might see.
It’s not that he regrets moving out here,
he’s lived a life that is worthy and full,
but sometimes I think, when he gets like that,
he regrets not slaying that damn Red Wolf.
One of America’s most treasured holiday and tradition is known as the celebration of Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving a plentiful feast of food and a gathering of friends and family a holiday began as a feast in the beginning days of Americans is one of the most celebrated traditions .To some thanksgiving is just another holiday that is unimportant just another reminder that Christmas is just around the calendar .Just a day off of work or school ,a tradition passed on over the years, commonly excuse to over eat , an occasion that is between two months ,November the 4th Thursday and October the 2nd Monday for Canadians .
But in November 1621 ,after the pilgrims first harvest the Governor William Bradford established a feast and invited a group of the Native American allies .Now remembered as the “first Thanksgiving “ by Americans even though the pilgrims used this terms to describe the feast it was held for three consecutive days .Even though there isn’t a known historic banquet menu of there was record of that several of the Wampanoag guests arrived Bearing five dear by Edward Winslow who wrote in his journal .Also Many Historians suggest that many of the meals were served in traditional Native American spices and cooking methods . Because none of the pilgrims had oven and the Mayflower sugar supply had dwindled there was not the modern day traditional that featured pies, cakes and other desserts .The celebration of Thanksgiving has never changed through the year weather your nationality or faith background it is always been a time to express the thankfulness of family Thanksgiving is the day to reunite with family and feast upon food.
There are many traditions that come with thanksgiving but one that is know over all of America is the food. This tradition is know by many households is that many families struggle to finish out the thanksgiving without having a Ham or turkey on thanksgiving . Also many us have all heard you cant have a turkey day with football, Not every family in America makes football a part of their tradition but the most do .This could range form watching the game to having a little fun playing a game outside .
But you cant forget the essence of thankfulness this can be saying a prayer of thanks to the family gathering to tell what there most thankful for and There are many ways that this can be expressed.
Prentice Haines was the son of wealth,
the youngest of a brood of nine.
At sixteen he fled from Boston town
for the rugged life of western climes,
trapping fur took up his time.
Before a year passed he’d married a squaw,
his wife in fact, if not in law.
A daughter came quick, he named her Nell,
Bbt fate followed with darkness in store.
His wife Feathered Dove died of a fever
a year after sweet Nell was born,
but Prent had little time to mourn.
His daughter knew not that her ma was gone,
so Prent lived for her, Prent soldiered on.
Three years passed swiftly, one sunny noon
Pent and Nell walked into Sally’s case.
She gave them a smile, she always did,
then with sweet Nell did she play.
Sally was always in a happy way.
For four years since her husband died
she’d been running this place and getting by.
While Nell ran about, Prent said to Sal:
“I’m thinking of heading back east.
Time to think about schooling for Nell,
someone who womanly manners can teach.
And I suppose a new wife I should seek.”
Sally, she smiled, teeth white as pearls,
Aad said,”Not just in Boston can you find a girl.”
But Prent didn’t hear her, so lost in his mind,
Saying,”Yep, I think she will need a good school.
Being a half-breed will be troublesome enough,
can’t let her grow up just another fool.
Can’t fall short by my little jewel.
But Sally take my thanks, before I go,
for watching over her, while I trapped in the snow.”
She smiled sadly at that, then she explained:
“Watching Nelly was truly a pleasure.
She’s a wonderful girl, and I see clearly
why her father calls her his treasure.”
She bade them both good-bye forever.
At the station next day, early came
the long, hissing snake that was their train.
Across half the continent they went,
sweet Nell’s face glued to the window,
seeing prairie, farm, hills, and town
Aa along the tracks they’d go.
For Nell it really was quite a show.
And finally, the chugging train pulled on in,
blowing its great whistle at Boston’s station.
Prent knocked on the door to his parent’s house,
waiting until he heard some footsteps.
The door swung open, revealing the maid
so shocked that she looked pale as death.
She called out the name ‘Annabeth.’
A minute went by and his sister appeared,
oldest of the Haines children in years...
CONTINUES IN PART II.
III.
It was near midnight when they came again,
four warriors armed all with flaming brands,
Myron bolted up from a fitful sleep,
and poured out bullets as the horses ran.
He managed to shoot one off of his horse,
but the trio screamed and charged in once more,
Harold said”They’re fools to keep charging in!”
But Myron though hard, and wasn’t so sure.
He called for all to cease firing
and listened close as if searching for proof,
then he heard soft thumps coming from above,
one of them had gotten up on the roof!
The charging men had been a distraction,
and Myron grabbed the shot-gun in a hurry,
fearing that they would set the roof aflame,
he opened fire with a hot fury.
A hole was blasted where he shot the brave,
the dead man rolled off and struck hard on the ground,
the charging warriors roared in anger,
so Harold shot another one of them down.
The survivors fled back towards their camp,
but no withdrawal did the Sioux men beat,
instead they took turns sniping at their foes,
to deny Myron and his family sleep.
Come Morning Myron looked out and saw perched high
sixteen warriors atop their steads,
with lances and rifles and tomahawks
preparing for the morning’s bloody deeds.
But what chilled Myron’s soul more than anything
was the small tree trunk that two riders held
by the branches, to batter down the door,
and visit upon them a living hell.
The others let loose a barrage of shots,
to try and suppress Myron waiting within,
he fired endlessly took down two more,
then leapt back as the riders bore down on him.
The battering tree smashed right through the door,
a slew of war-cries went up, loud and piercing
the shot-gun blasted, two more warriors fell,
the noise left all their heads and ears ringing.
Harold went down from a shot to the chest,
the doorway was a commotions of words,
but standing there clutching his aching head
was the muscled form of Diving Bird.
Myron leapt forwards and drew his pistol,
then jammed it straight into Diving Bird’s ear,
Roared,”If you value your War-chief’s life,
you will all stop, and ride straight out of here!”
The Indians outside froze when they saw them,
none understood the words that he did say
except for an old man, missing an eye,
who spurred forwards to attempt a parlay...
CONCLUDES IN PART IV.
There were Indians just over the Brazos
With a buffalo herd in between
They weren’t trying to stay hidden
They wanted to be seen
The chief of these Comanche
Buffalo Hump by name
They say no one's looked him in the eyes
Was ever quite the same
The COL said go parlay
Invite the chief to sup
I want to look him in the eye
And determine just what’s up
With our white sheet fluttering in the wind
Like the scalps on the big Chief’s lance
We started out across the plain
Taking quite a chance
Our crooked-tooth Pawnee scout
Led the way through the herd
Through the smell of a thousand animals
And the sound that would drown each word
I felt and smelled their hot breath
As I rode my pony near
I turned my pony into the throng
A pathway none too clear
Inching through the buffalo
Blinded by the dust
I held on fast to the reins
Just riding my pony's trust
Once through the thundering buffalo
I glanced up to the rise
The Indians still were waiting there
Much to my surprise
The Pawnee scout then turned to us
Said if they should attack
First take out the big chief
Then that little one in the back
I can understand the big chief
But why the little guy
He said he’s like a badger
He’ll fight until he dies
He said that one's a horse thief
The best you'll ever find
He'll snatch a horse from under you
As if you had gone blind
The big chief started towards us
Shut up the Pawnee said
You young boys keep your damn traps shut
I’ll do the talking instead
The Comanche’s body shone with grease
Had a necklace made of claws
He had a stench about him
That made you gag and pause
My eyes met the chief’s eyes
My hand rested on my gun
He had a look could kill a soul
But I was too scared to run
The Pawnee and Comanche
Spoke in some foreign tongue
I vowed to learn their language
While I was still young
Then all at once the chief turned
And rode on up the hill
Our Pawnee scout turned back for camp
But I just sat there still
For he had pointed at me
With that scalp encrusted lance
And said he’d have MY scalp one day
If he ever got the chance
For last week on the Brazos
Someone had killed his son
And looking me right in the eye
He knew I was the one
Mdailey 2/26/12
1st place finish in contest
For PD’s contest dare. Chapter 11 of Dead Man's Walk by Larry McMurtry. It has been years since I read a western but am finding this one interesting.
Stop! The violent protests and leave peaceful protesters out to make a difference strictly along. Whether you are in law enforcement or the national guard. You need to pray for peaceful solutions! But if all you want to do is assault police officers. Or if protesters burn down business and destroy personal and real property. If you want to incite rioting and violence! You need to be apprehended! I am sick and tired of racist police officers using African American males, Hispanic, and Native American males as "target practice" or unlawful harassment! Black Lives Matter! Today the city of Houston is holding memorial ceremonies for George Floyd. They firmly believe the time has come for closure and for our nation to move forward.
I am sorry about what happened to George Boyd and other minority groups! But letting your explosive anger erupted like a volcano! That Minnesota police officer committed nineteen years of similar acts of racism and violence. He just happened to get caught in the act! He never should have been admitted to the police academy in the first place! The other officers just stood there and watched! It was a national tragedy! In London England, Black Lives Matter are conducting peaceful protests in solidarity with the United States!
Some groups will use any excuse to riot! Some police officers will use any excuse to commit acts of violence! I firmly believe in peaceful protests! Unfortunately, they often end up in tragedy! One bad reaction by one or more groups leads to retaliation by the opposition! Resulting only escalating violence! The president wants to call out the United States military. And it will happen unless senseless acts of violence come to an abrupt ending! The Beatles once sang, "come together right now over me." "Let there be peace on earth and let it begin with me."
Stop! The senseless acts of violence! Private citizens even in communities such as Snohomish Washington! Are arming themselves, and standing outside of the business to protect them. They are citizens vigilantes. They want to stop looters and vandals in their tracks! In the days of the old west, there used to lynch mobs! We do not want the bad old days back again!
Love as always,
Roxanne Lea Dubarry
Roxy Lea 1954
Roxy 1954/ October Country
June 02-03,2020
June 09, 2020 edited