in the teepee tent of Akkadian one day
His ideas got farfetched and ran away
he invented a protagonist solid and true
Gilgamesh was magical, mystical, and true-blue
An ancient Mesopotamian hero, that man
King of a city state of Uruk, I understand
He ruled sometime around 2200 BC
A solid hero, built large as the trunk of a tree
The epic poem from Akkadian’s mighty pen
got longer and more fanatical with the desert wind
I can hardly imagine this bard’s surprise
When he met King Gilgamesh over the next rise.
She was a proud Osage who loved her tribe, her family and her skunk.
He had adopted her when he was a baby; he loved her so….
Will he spray me? Potential suiters asked, a bit afraid of this fluff ball.
Only if he does not like you, Girl who Loves Animals replied.
Her father sat at the edge of the teepee listening.
Glad to have a bit of distance from her pet, Stinker.
Stinker was not fond of him; he had been sprayed a few times.
Why don’t you get rid of him? Some of the wise men of the council suggested.
She loves him, and he keeps suiters away, he replied.
He is the best birth control we could ever have.
What if he likes the suiter? One of his council men inquired.
So far, he has liked none of them, replied her father.
tall turquoise teepee
setting camp in maroon mind
teal tender thought time
[This is the poem that made me think ‘Hmmm… Sixgun Sid?’
Which led to a plethora of (at least one) ‘adventures’]
*
Cowboys and Red Indians they ride in any weather
Though one will get a soggy hat and one a soggy feather
And all that soggy headwear has been happening forever
Cos Cowboys and Red Indians are really not that clever
Cowboys and Red Indians they rarely get together
When they chase each other they ride horses hell for leather
And Sitting Fox seeks Sixgun Sid for he’s a scalp to sever
And Cowboys and Red Indians they rarely get called Trevor
Cowboys and Red Indians they simply wont endeavour
To shelter under canvas when its raining… No, not ever
Yet even when they're soaking wet they shrug and say “Whatever.”
For Cowboys and Red Indians will share a teepee never
Big Chief Red Cloud
Man of no little fame
Advising the Paleface
How a child got its name.
It is given by a mother
From the first thing they see
After giving birth and
First leaving their teepee
For my own mother
What caught her eye
Was a beautiful sunset
And the colour of the sky
Over there Is my daughter
Little White Fawn
From a deer and her calf
Seen that very first dawn.
Sometimes of course
Tradition can be irritating
Sat by her side is my son
Two Dogs Copulating.
Cherub's unfurled fingers faithfully extend to his fallow fringe
hung from a chest made firm by suede, sweat and rain.
Chernobyl blue irises mimic April '86 radiation,
dessimating her Cherokee's sense of societal decency.
Devoted to her capture, suede cape kidnapped,
kept protected.
Kernel lodges promise in her gut, cob of compassion sprouts
from yellow potential.
Shrewd Indian whisks his skin of citrine amber sap seraphim
away, to landscape blameless bare.
Motor mumbles underwater torture breathes through
chrome clothing.
Frothy stew swirling storm of snake flesh snow flakes.
Cherub's education quells emotion, pain never developed.
Teepee tall frame levitates in opaque of inequitable love.
Flimsy slim strands strong in Cherub's raised comprehension.
Fringe flown backwards flattens beneath her face,
bohemian bombastic.
Dislodged sand grains foretell
Grasp nestled naive fledgling
Prospered pillion flame
7th June 2022
Written for Contest:
Like A Child
Sponsor:
Regina McIntosh
She was a wise woman, a natural being, a female shaman
Her magical ways were known by most, especially the Lakota
We came to her for truth, guidance, spiritual wisdom.
The men revered her as much as the women, maybe more.
She had a connection with the Great Spirit most do not garner.
Respected and revered, we trusted her to guide us along our path.
She was a fantastic listener, who enlisted the spirits to help
Always encouraging us to make our own connections,
So we could follow the path we had set in Father Sky
Before we ever put our moccasins on Mother Earth.
As we left her campfire or her teepee, we always felt more in tune
With brother deer, sister rainbow and cousin lake.
He gave thanks to The Great Spirit
Appreciating the cool waters of the streams
Excited for daily food that wanders into his path
Eager to begin a new journey with his love match
She watches from the teepee,
Admiring his faithfulness,
Encouraging him with her smile as he turns
To see if she is watching, and of course she always is
We have much to be thankful for, she says.
He understands this. They were amazed to find each other.
Neither expecting The Great Spirit to show them the path
To such a perfect union. Together they give thanks.
A squaw called Winnie Hee Hee
Lived in an Indian teepee
She laughed like a horse
And giggled of course
Alas she was odd and creepy.
What if God isn't a he or a she but a he she
eating quiche in a teepee with a toupee
in the company of a grumpy hippy
seeking to unleash a fart storm our way
solar gusts of gigantic proportions
across intergalactic star systems
unholy guffing crushing our sun
with radiation to our extinction
anything is possible it's all unknown
take a guess at the probable fart tone
all we ever do is disbelieve and joke
open up minds after cannabis toke
some believe he's a vengeful bastard
out to punish us thereafter
in a world seeing many disaster
these people couldn't be dafter
so maybe God really is a he she
toupee wearing and living in a teepee
perving on a world of birds and bees
with an irritable bowel about to let free
A man paints a picture
outside on his teepee
A man writes a novel
from inside his soul
Each message recorded
to transcend the seasons
Eternity on notice
—another black hole
(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2014)
I can do this, I can do that
I can do anything, splicketty-splat.
I'm quite the expert, and certainly quick
Excellent service here, licketty-click.
Your toaster won't roast'er?
Your car needs repair?
I'll fix your teepee,
your sofa and chair
I'll cure your doggy
of fleas, lice, and pox
I'll wash your diapers,
your windows, your socks.
I'm inexpensive, and fast as a wink
Available any time, blinkity-blink.
In my great room I relax
Staring at my surroundings
The lighten curio shelters
Trinkets of horses and dolphins
Atop the curio
A Brazilian lady of porcelain
Sitting shirtless, her head rests in her palm
Beside her on center wall
Painted charcoal black, the family tree
Pictures dangle on leafless branches
Standing tall, a teepee shaped lamppost
Brightening and complimenting the oriental carpet
The twenty year sentimental object in the corner
Is Patrick, the fluffy dog beanbag
Shylo, the go-happy Malti-poo on her lap
She barks at the sighting of a Golden Retriever
Sipping my scotch from my crystal, I comfortably rest
My feet upon the ottoman and my buttocks in my dad's chair
Shylo speaks at a passer-bye
Excitingly, she jumps on my jewels...Ouch !
She spills the half full glass of fine scotch, clenched to my fingers
With her moistened tongue she licks my nose
I rest no more
One and one can often make three
Now tell me, dear friend, how can that be
Two people blow their cork
Nine months later a stork
Comes by and plop, a third member of your teepee
Humans are a strange lot, don't you agree
Should take lessons from the animals, you and me
Only kill to survive
Not to contrive
Nasty schemes to take over another's teepee
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