Poetry Contest!

And the winner is…

Wow! We were all so knocked out by the fantastic, thoughtful entries! Thank you to all for participating!

We want to give a special shout out to Chris Bechtold, our sourcing partner and ranch manager of the Diamond-4-D ranch in Montana for his "Buffalo Ranchers Soliloquy". You said it just right and oh-so beautifully! Also, a special mention to a few other's who made many of the judges top 5 list: Chuck Beatty's "Prairie Haiku", Lisa Lewis's "Translation Between Friends" and Chuck Tompkins "Where the Buffalo Roam". Great job and thank you so much. 

You can read all the above mentioned along with all entries below in the comment section. 

And now.... drum roll please.....

Our April poetry contest has come to a close.
It was hard to pick, but we finally chose.
The poetry winner is not one but two.
Maria and Suzanne hats off to you!
You can read their poems right below here!
One will make you laugh and other will make you tear.

Congratulations Suzanne & Maria, we will be reaching out to make arrangements  for Dan O'Brien's visit for your personal reading!

Maria Reeves "Wild Idea Rhyme

There once was a woman with so much to do,
Between work, and the house, and mouths to feed, too.
She went to the store, where the labels were tricky,
With preservatives, sugars, and colorings (icky!)
The antibiotics, hormones, and living conditions made her feel blue.

She thought, “we must do better,” and began searching online.
Where she found Wild Idea (just in the nick of time).
Better than organic, is what the O’Briens say.
The buffalo revered, and roaming all day.
Finally, a place she could get behind: restoring the prairie one bite at a time!

With so many options, the woman placed her first order,
And filled up her freezer like a buffalo hoarder.
Now meatloaf, and ribeyes, and sirloins abound.
There’s even trachea and bones for her dogs to be found.
So thanks Wild Idea for being transparent and getting this customer on-board(er).

From her family to yours, she wishes only the best. 
And believes with Wild Idea, the prairie is blessed.
She loves the ranch kitchen, and Jill’s recipes, too.
Now dinners seem so easy, and healthier (it’s true!)
Thanks for reducing her food industry stress!

Suzanne Core "
Redeemer of the Plains"

Listen in the silence for the buffalo,
Pounding rhythm of its hooves, your heartbeat.
Listen to the pulsing, steady, still.
Its longing felt in every field and hill.

Listen to the silence of the buffalo:
Tears in the heart. Protected grass and sod. 
Like its Creator could not protect itself. 
Destroyed by man pretending-to-be god.

Listen for the silence of the buffalo.
Billions of ghost feet roam the mists of time:
Its stolen spaces filled with brick and stone
And memories of when it was its own.

Listen with the Silence to the buffalo.
Its grace slowly returns to its domains.
Home. It calls. to Man. To help. To Be. 
Love. Life. Redeemer of the Plains.

Again - congratulations!


Poetry Contest Announcement
Win a chance for author, rancher and environmentalist, Dan O'Brien to do a reading at your home, business or school!

April is National Poetry month, so we are throwing a free-style poetry contest!  There are over 50 different types of poetry, which is way too complicated... so, we are keeping it simple with two freestyle categories; poems that rhyme and poems that don’t.  There is only one caveat; the poem must contain the word buffalo or bison.

We encourage you to play (enter), to win a chance at having our own in-house writer, Dan O’Brien visit you for a reading at your home, school or business. Plus - we’ll throw in $200.00 worth of our artisan charcuterie so you can invite friends too!

Our in-house group of judges will select one overall winner, which will be announced on April 26th, “Put a Poem in your Pocket Day”.

So poets - start salivating over your words and put them to pen (keyboard) and enter. It’s easy, write your poem and copy and paste it in the comment section below this blog. Here are a couple of examples from our in-house poets to get you going!

Awakened Palate

Leaves danced on her face
reflections of the wind and light

Her body heavy with sleep
still belonging to the night

A morning kiss on the lips
awoke the memory of her palate

A dish of steamed mussels,
buffalo chorizo, wine, and shallot

Dreamy meals are rare,
and some aren’t worth a thought

But perhaps it’s time to change that
and go Wild Idea or wild caught!


Prairie King

The Bison stands with strength and courage, holding tight to the responsibility of his domain.
He waits unknowing yet fully aware and alive.
It’s lonely at the top but the journey was tough and full.
He stands waiting, calmly, deliberately to claim what in his.
He is his own master now, protector and leader of his kingdom.


*Published poets, employees or associates of Wild Idea Buffalo Company will not be eligible to win - but we welcome you to play!  

We look forward to you sharing your poem with us! And... good luck to all!  

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  • Lean and mean only eating greens

    Smoked or steamed tastes like a dream

    Addicted to bison, I’m like a fiend

    I had to buy some and join the team

    Goes real great with rice and beans

    Always organic like Evergreens

    I feel one with nature when I’m in the trees

    Or when I’m on the scene, of my buffalo dreams

    Nate Tilley
  • Poetry not my thing, but here, from a real life encounter, with some apology to whoever penned “O Death”:

    The Buffalo Test

    Heavy head, swinging low,
    I’m under the gaze of the buffalo.
    He fixes my feet, inspects my soul-
    Will I pass the test of the buffalo?

    I look down, I say my name,
    I tell him I know we’re all to blame.
    I promise to sow, swear to plant,
    Vow I’ll do the prairie dance.

    Erase the lines, let waters flow,
    Let his people follow the buffalo.
    He lifts his head, releases my soul,
    Fades into gold grasses where dry winds blow.

    Monica Van der Vieren
  • Where the Buffalo Roam
    The buffalo grass ruffles gently, in the breeze,
    A Prairie scene so few have seen.
    Crocus quietly pop their furry soft-blue blooms,
    A quick spring thunderstorm, on the horizon booms.
    From sulky coyotes, the buffalo protect their new born calves.
    Massive heads down, circled up in living rafts.
    Life goes on, rebirth on the prairie.
    Powerful, timeless: Invisible to the unwary.
    A prairie so remote, and yet so near,
    Noisy crows call, quiet movements of deer.
    Highways hum, uncaring cars pass by,
    Lazy contrails stretch, across azure skies.
    In our busy world, we must be wary,
    To look and listen; take time to tarry.
    Inhale Spring’s fresh smell, as the crocus bloom,
    And spend some time in Nature’s Room.
    Watch the herds slowly graze and protect their young.
    Take time to listen as nature’s song is sung.
    Be it the soft munching of grass, by the regal beasts,
    Or the sights and sounds; all provide a treat.
    And high above a hawk’s sharp screeeee…
    Nature’s symphony: It pleases me.
    Chuck 4/18/19

    chuck Tompkins
  • Manifest Destiny

    From inland sea to grinding glaciers,
    melting and flattening and fertilizing into prairie grasses,
    thousands of square miles of grasses—tallgrass, midgrass, short grass and
    millions of buffalo grazing the grasses, over time and space, energy transformed
    from sun and rain to grass, from grass to buffalo, from buffalo back to grass
    from the Pleistocene to the Anthropocene,
    from prehistoric bison to plains bison and wood bison,
    from the Appalachians to the Rockies,
    from the Yukon to Yucatan,
    We are the grasses,
    We are the buffalo,
    We are original inhabitants
    and we will remain,
    survivors of American history.

    F. Burnier
  • A Rap
    Yo you don’t wanna fight
    With these beasts of the plains
    Though their brains take pains
    Just to think and maintain,
    They’re stronger than oxen,
    Got skills at out-foxin’
    The predators and killers;
    Those hungry belly-fillers.
    So don’t mess with the bison
    Or they’ll clobber you like Tyson;
    Make you blue like Heisenberg
    Who’d take you out with a drop of Ricin.
    So show some respect, you know,
    They’re more impressive than Mark Ruffalo,
    Got me rhyming and spittin’ all this flow:
    The one and only buffalo.

    Andrew Joseph Perez

    I like buffalo when there on my plate,
    I could eat them all day,
    ‘Cause they taste real great,
    I could eat them while I play,
    And I’d just like to say,
    Thank you Wild Idea Buffalo.

  • Grasses roll like waves along a tumultuous shore,
    cresting and swirling with birdsong lost to the wind.
    Buffalo navigate the waves, the grasses lapping wildly at their feet,
    churning new sod sustaining an endless prairie sea.

    Darcie Bacon
  • Whoops! Good Questions Christine. Entries must be received by end of day April 24th.

    Wild Idea Buffalo Co.
  • What’s the due date?

    Christine Arvidson
  • Majestic Bison
    Roam the South Dakota Plains
    Inspire future hope

    Jane King
  • John Snow Knows Nothing of Buffalo

    We dream of impossible creatures
    To fill dragon-sized holes
    left by wild open spaces
    and hoarfrosted heavy hides.
    We jam our mouths with salt and empty gnashing,
    Craving the true savor of sustenance.
    Our heroes now saviors of imaginings,
    we cry “what is dead will never die,”
    knowing what is left is passing.
    Winter has come.
    Winter has gone.
    Winter remains, because somewhere on the plains
    there is magic.
    It is a song of grass and wind.
    The peace that was promised.
    It is war waged for the purest pleasures,
    molding ranchers and bards
    into emissaries and knights
    for a kingdom where nature sits on a wild throne,
    for an ending where everyone wins.

    Rebecca K. O'Connor
    The earth quakes beneath your power.
    Creating wind and weather,
    You are life itself.
    Your multitude is God.

    Randee Huber
  • Lakota Prayer

    Counting coup and riding wind
    On plains that exhale primal truth.
    Great Spirit, life that has no end
    Come fill the quiver of my youth.

    Wakan Tanka, reveal your might
    In thunderclouds from bison’s breath.
    Tatanka owns both day and night,
    He gives us life; he gives us death.

    The pipe connecting all blood’s flow
    Reveals the path of sacred herd.
    Four colors then White Buffalo
    To speak the language never heard.

    No struggles when we learn to pray
    To take the path the bison tread.
    The holy man will point the way
    To go to where Life’s blood is shed.

    Anne Fox
  • Ode to a Kansan’s Urn

    Such subtle earth tones
    Grace your upper curves;
    Azure, coffee, bronze, and chrome
    Surround your basal bulge

    Like char-coaled canyon walls
    With prehistoric pictographs
    An ancient bison adorns your bowl
    And lowers its head in threatening mode;

    Oh lacquered and fired vessel
    With sgraffito bison likeness
    Such artwork inspires the senses
    Conjuring aged artist’s praxis;

    From earthen clay and hues
    You speak of times bygone
    Survival’s ancient rules
    Remain with us today:

    To kill and eat, it is a must
    But conservation, it, too, a need
    For once extinction rears its head
    Civilization will not proceed!

    Donald L. Williams
  • My mamma used to say
    That meat isn’t to eat.
    No factory farms for us
    As they were not to trust.

    It wasn’t til one day,
    That bison came her way.
    They roam, they play
    Happy all their days.

    “All that lettuce? Tofu too?
    No, meat is what you’ll eat!”
    Buffalo burger, buffalo chops
    A carnivore’s delight!

    Its pretty safe to say:
    That none put up a fight.

    Lyndsi Petitti

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