#bison
Sacred beast, King of the plains
Feeder of the people and protector of the herd
You are the lifeline come hard times
And through your death you give life.
Sustenance, Nutrients, Nourishment to the hunter's family.
Your skin, your hide turned clothing or shelter.
Your tendons turned sinew
Your bones turned tools to be used for a lifetime.
Your muscle, your meat turned to stew and fragrant roasts
Meals turned to memories
Of families gathered around sacred fires
Laughing, loving, living another day
All thanks to you.
Tatanka
Apr 19
Apr 19, 2026 at 2:15 PM UTC
#*It strayed from the herd
Into the concrete jungle
Met living beings, the strangest kind
Why did it leave its mother’s side
Just to know, where the river stream ends
It ran and ran and followed the stream
Strayed away far, far, faraway from home
Met living beings of the strangest kind
Scared, it panicked and strayed in the alleys
Didn’t know where and what place it was in
Tired and hungry and scared it went berserk
Trying to find its home in every green place
Couldn’t find mama and papa nor her
brother anywhere
Instead it met living beings of strangest kind
It cried as it realised the concrete jungle
Wasn’t as green as its home
The jungle
which has the most sparkling stream
Lost its way and now disturbed
Ran in every direction, couldn’t find home
Tired and hungry and scared
It didn’t know, where it was
The strange living beings equally scared of
it, got it tranquillised
Shocked and tired
Finally, it went into a tranquil sleep
Far far faraway from home
Never ever to see her family, in this life
The she bison, all of four
Now, forever sleeps
In the concrete jungle*#
Dec 9, 2020
Dec 9, 2020 at 11:59 AM UTC
I sunk my fingers down
into the loam of an ancient
buffalo wallow and the
land that had quietly
prepared for their species
untold millennia before me.
I held the buffalo’s
mourning in my heart,
and felt the Buffalo Nations’
cry rattle against my ribs.
I opened myself to the
Earth and it spoke
sorrowfully to me
of its broken home.
Dec 8, 2020
Dec 8, 2020 at 9:27 AM UTC
For you
to see me, ride on a
polar bison to cross,
the Arctic circle and
bring to me, a snow
peacock feather
Safana & Bamalli 2020
Sep 6, 2020
Sep 6, 2020 at 7:26 PM UTC
Guile, come and get it.
Bison beef means
Bison bucks for everyone.
Bison's just:
Satan as he fell from Heaven
like
light
niiiiiiing!!!
Sep 15, 2019
Sep 15, 2019 at 7:48 PM UTC
Oh mighty brother of the plains
Where have you gone?
Has your life been taken with such ease as a whispering breath?
Oh mighty brother of the plains
Where have you gone?
Decaped of all pride, not just to die, but cry... Oh mighty Brother.
Jul 1, 2017
Jul 1, 2017 at 4:36 PM UTC
Let me tell you about how I run
There are a couple of ways but none of them are fun.
There's a "move the **** out of my way" kind of run
Shot at by some man with a gun
Running over old ladies and children
To get the hell out and save my own skin
Kind of run...
And there's the "cliche blonde running through my head all day"
Where I don't get exercise, but she seems to sweat away
The pounds of brains until I'm dumbfoundedly dumb
And I find myself passed out on the couch with a bottle of ***
And a headache that makes me want to blow my brains out
Cause I can't get some Aspirin and a good woman to blow me out
Kind of run...
And there's the angsty little man that runs from home
Fighting his abusive dad and his best friend "hormone"
When he gets a kick in the nuts named reality
and a left hook to the face named puberty
by Mike Tyson riding a bison
Who leans over and whispers "you lost the fight son"
Kind of run...
Then there are the times when I run my fingers over the typewriter
Making more mistakes than a single stared wasted waiter
Running my imagination that nobody wants to hear on a page
A piece of **** that nobody will ever notice on stage
Lost in cut out hearts and origami cranes
and on washed out newspapers on old broken trains
kind of run...
However, there is a time when I actually get off my *** to run
But It hurts cause I'm a beached walrus with my *** in the sun
Flopping on land and trying to swim through concrete
Unable to see that I have 2 feet
cause there are 2 feet of fat that is constricting my view
Of who I am and what I'm really able to do
Kind of run...
And this is the part of the poem when I run away to Spain
Clearly, I can’t run that far so I guess I’ll take a plane
And I’ll bring the beautiful blonde with me in a first class spa
And I’ll walk into Spain saying “Su casa es mi Casa
But it will never be the other way around
Cause if I see you on my property you’ll be six feet underground
Kind of run...
Jan 1, 2017
Jan 1, 2017 at 2:59 PM UTC
Buffalo abound
Providing all with one hunt
Sustaining the tribe
Apr 25, 2015
Apr 25, 2015 at 10:32 AM UTC