Long South dakota Poems
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The Black Hills wept for Thee
East of the Black Hills of South Dakota,
On the Pine Ridge Reservation,
Live a proud tribe of Oglala Lakota,
Part of the Great Sioux Nation.
On saddled chargers rode half the Regiment,
of the Seventh Cavalry.
A tune they played on behalf of the GarryOwen,
was such a sight to see.
While climbing through Prickly pines, they spied,
near the summit of Porcupine Butte.
Spotted Elk with Hunkpapa Lakota tribe,
the chief of the Minneconjou.
Five miles West through the cold day they walked,
the Lakota and soldiers of the Seventh,
Where Wounded Knee creek's icy waters balked,
between hell and heaven.
The Colonel ordered all of the tribe's rifles confiscated,
while the braves danced the ghost dance.
For rumor had spread of a new religion, long awaited,
that would turn the tide of chance.
Then suddenly came the report of rifles fired,
as the women and children fled to a ravine.
From the heights the thunder of cannon, now inspired,
close quarter fighting and lead, now convened.
Who knows where Providence went,
on that cold December morning.
Both guilty and innocent, now spent,
lay dead with little warning.
Bodies of the fallen now sprawled across the snowy plains,
with faces frozen in a moment of violence.
One mass grave with all, is all that remains,
of tears and laughter forever silenced.
In the days that followed medals were pinned to chests,
who proclaimed victoriously.
Though God only knows why, ignoble and divest,
life taken in vain, ingloriously.
In the shadow of the land of Sitting Bull,
was now told the tragic story.
Passed down from Mother to Daughter were recounted,
days of lost glory.
“Let us put our minds together to see what life we can make for our children.”
-Sitting Bull
“Let ‘em loose,” came his bellowing yell,
“I got 3,000 head I gotta to sell,
Goin' 1,000 miles in weather that's hell,
You're all gonna sweat and all gonna smell”-
The boss’s eyes on ten cowboys did lay,
With disdain in his words he smirked to say,
“Keep ‘em cattle rollin', don’t let ‘em stray,
If one ends up missing, you’re all gonna pay,”
They worked hard, like good wranglers would,
Never slowing down, even when they could,
Their sleep was short and their food no good,
At the end the boss said, "they'd misunderstood"-
A man doesn’t work for two months on the trail,
Through dust storms, winds, the rains and the gales,
To be told by his boss “You utterly failed,
and if you complained, he’d put you in jail.”
Most walked away, with no money in hand,
The boss was a cheat, like no other man,
Two stayed behind and took a firm stand,
“Give us our pay!” that's our demand!"
They swallowed hard and filled their canteens,
These two rugged cowboys were tough and lean-
“South Dakota Badlands,” neither had seen,
One of them was thirty, the other nineteen-
“Partner,” the younger one said,
“Don’t know if we should’ve fled-“
The other stared, then shook his head,
Saying, “It was either him or us dead!”
The older one, his chaps he unfurled,
His chew on the ground he spat and hurled-
“An old Indian belief,” he said with lips curled,
“There ain't no death, only a change of worlds,”
No one knows if they made it across,
If they found refuge or if they got lost-
Or with their lives, paid the ultimate costs,
All because they had shot their range boss-
Cowboys at home spun their tale that night,
While eating ‘round the campfire light-
‘bout two heroes who weren’t afraid to fight,
And took out the man who’d done none of them right-
I’m going to watch you die…
but before I do
I will foretell your story
The story of the White Bird
The Great Mystery
and the Silver Seed
The White Bird carries
in its talons
the Silver Seed of all mankind
A seed that will allow you
to move past what you have been afraid
of for so long
When the White Bird
passes overhead
it will drop the Silver Seed
You must be dead
before the seed
touches the ground
Then, the White bird
will turn into
the legendary Hawk of Thunder
And carry you off
into the land
of the great Wakan Tanka
The decision to leave
being yours
and yours alone
Passing beyond
what time has frozen
—passing beyond what then has been
(Pine Ridge South Dakota: August, 2011)
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'.
There is no real life without love and no love without life. Both can be beautiful, but like roses, they also produce thorns. The two entities must co-exist and draw fuel from each other. There is the pain in both, like power from positive and negative charges. We do not always welcome it with open arms, but there is no life without pain.
Long before I knew or even met her who became 'The One', there were other relationships, most of which were short-lived with sad endings. Two of them are very noteworthy and taught me early-on about life's enduring character. We can be rocked and bulldozed by them if we do not learn to come to terms and 'move on'. Romantic and relationship encounters that go sour and south can strike one at the very core of the soul and render its victims helpless. It is a very curable experience for most of us, but it is also a most memorable one.
For two summers in a row, I was charmed, swept into the arms and hearts of beautiful human beings only to be emotionally beaten up one summer, and abandoned the next summer by circumstances some two thousand miles away. These two promising loves had barely begun before they quickly ended, never having the chance to complete what could have been. From Chicago, one returned to South Dakota, and the other returned to Puerto Rico.
One has to be reminded that events of emotion and passion, though ever so pure, innocent, and sincere, do not have to end one's hope for a lasting love. Emotions and passions come and go like seasons, but like summer always follows springtime, my lasting love came with a beautiful smile later that summer.
07112018PoetrySoupContest, An Incomplete Love Story, Faraz Ajmal
They tease people
and undermine relationships
they thinks it's cute
always at odds
making things difficult for the people
it aint cute
-------------------------------------------------------
The Savants shall warn the people
of the wierds of many
they shall sppeak salvation
and will couple to be unioned
we shall not recognize there togetherness
and there unions shall be frowned upon.
Exactio Malo and Femalo's
spoke the feathered Savant
as all clapped and cheered.
_____________________________________________________
Then the day came when the aspiring People wished to marry
and the Savants laughed at there desire to
do so.
It was aparent that they were
to tease these people.
And the members of the resistance began cursing and circling
calling the elders needless and useless
they throw nuts and fruits
at them and lored them into the caves
tthere they put up a fence around the cave.
___________________________________________________________
Article from WayWard National
A Natures Magizine
"I Lived 10 Months with Savages"
By Calli Comeanie
South Dakota Cattle Publishing Co.
New Jersey, Oklahoma, Lake Erie
Offices across the World
Contact: The Mallard Mimick
Prime Rib and Tenderloin
We were thrown in the back of a pick-up truck camper in 1964,
My twin sister, my brother, and me. We were all fighting age.
There was a mattress, comic books, three pillows, and an ice chest.
We were told if we got into the ice chest we would be sorry, so we didn’t.
Mommy and Daddy sat in the front. Daddy drove. Mommy smiled.
If we rapped on the tiny in between window hard she might open it.
Other times she glared and shook her head ‘no”.
Going to the bathroom was expected at each stop, not many of them.
We drove from Iowa to South Dakota. Saw the Corn Palace.
It was amazingly beautiful; I never wanted to leave it. Saw Indians.
We called them that in 1964, and I remember how beautiful they were.
Like TV Indians that I used to root for more than the cowboys.
Stopped at a park with enormous dinosaurs you could walk up and down.
Mount Rushmore was exactly like the books. Did not interest me long.
We reread and reread those twenty-two comic books, nothing else to do....
Except watch mile after mile after mile of badlands, all the same as the other.
Pretty for the first mile or two, maybe three tops.
I swear there are three thousand miles of Badlands in South Dakota.
Tashunka Witko, better known as Crazy Horse, had a vision of a red-tailed hawk at Sylvan Lake, South Dakota. In his vision he saw himself riding a spirit horse, flying through a storm, as the hawk flew above him, shrieking. When he awoke, a red-tailed hawk was perched near his horse.
Earthbound,
and yet I now fly
through the clouds that are aimlessly drifting ...
so high
that no sound
echoing by
below where the mountains are lifting
the sky
can be heard.
Like a bird,
but not meek,
like a hawk from a distance regarding its prey,
I will shriek,
not a word,
but a screech,
and my terrible clamor will turn them to clay—
the sheep,
the earthbound.
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
The year 1890
December 29th
Wounded Knee, South Dakota
My tribe lost their lives
The USS 7th
On their orders so
To round up the Sioux
Railroad herd them and go
Us Lakota were next
To disarm their request
But my cousin Black Coyote
At best he was deaf
Not hearing the orders
To lay down our guns
A chain reaction
Ensued on my tribal ones
Chaos and mayhem
Distressed our grounds
This proud nation
Beaten down
Men, women and children
300 slain
Another reminder
For the white mans gain
To disrespect the fallen
Slows our souls to our gods
We were left in a blizzard
Hardened like logs
In three days we rose
Civilians did lift
And dumped us unceremoniously
In a hole in the drift
My corpse and my peoples
Stripped and robbed
As flakes of snow
Confirm our spirits have sobbed
As i am reborn again
In another country
It gives me the freedom
To look back and see
That December day in 1890
Gunning down innocent ones
Not so mighty
The Medal of Honor
In their distinguished past
The record still stands
On their chests they flash
But attitudes change
As two centuries pass
The Medal Of Honor
Has won back its class
No longer the weak
Gunned down by the strong
Its man against man
Sometimes they do wrong
So as i sit back in my adopted nation
Will i live again past this lives station
Writing the wrongs of modern man
This Lakota warrior who never ran
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