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!
A.E.C.
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.
H.C.N.
*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!
51 comments
Thatch from the nest blows from the shrub,
Wind stronger than tangles ensconcing the eggs.
Guardian bison browse buds,
Stand impervious to the wind.
Quiet eyes know the wind is not what is to be feared.
Sunshine, the kind that lifts the scent from the prairie into a tumbled ribbon, interrupts pondering,
And the buffalo gaze at the sky as they frolic in their own mainstream grassland harmony.
The meadowlarks count out their own beats.
Bison breathe in the blue and gold mornings of spring just as we do,
But their breaths breathe deeper as one species for many.
In their limited comings and goings, they contemplate mainly what is coming.
What they fear is not on the horizon despite the cyclonic mid-latitude storms that parlay from the west.
It’s the ground.
The ground that slips from their own feet in not a blissful harmony.
Swollen, spring ground; warm, summer ground; cold, winter ground.
Hummocky, noodled ground and soft bounty. Streamside riparian. Upland.
Absent of buffalo the grasses and sedges and forbes may not only lie fallow but perish.
In a buffalo winter, the buffalo go,
So do the birds, those effervescent beings now denizens in their own country,
And, really, whether clover or plover it matters not for our souls.
Find your quiet eyes.
Watching is akin to walking away.
And the buffalo will not whimper to call us home.
BISON REVERIE:
A Sonnet in praise of the Bison
Historically the bison filled the land
From “sea to shining sea” and back again
From Yukon’s frozen plain to Texas’ sand
Their numbers were untold so vast their span!
In harmony with native tribes they moved
From winter graze to summer calving grounds
And proved to be their life-blood, meat and robe
Sustaining generations through their hoards.
Alas “Go west young man” the call was heard
And settlers fenced the range and broke the sod.
To tame the land and tribes the rails were laid
And tribe and beast were vanquished in their wake!
One time your numbers dropped so dangerous’ low,
But now you live protected, free to roam.
Buffalo Bounty
Prairies thrive again with buffalo hooves
Drawing in life from buffalo wallows.
Richness of water sources, growth of wild flowers
towering with tall grasses.
The calls of birds, coyote, wolves. The hums of insects.
Wind sweeps the plains; again the rumble of buffalo thunder.
A new wilderness now abundant with life.
We smoke the pipe, giving thanks to buffalo.
Prairie Haiku
Sunlight warms dark soil
Bluestem nourishes bison
My steak hints of grass
Dan, Dan the buffalo man, what he says is straight, what he says is true, you can’t love the buff without loving the land.
Buff, Buff, their rough and tough, they love to romp, they love to roam, you gotta love the buff who batta bing the land.
Wild, Wild, you can’t go wrong, jump on in and soon you’ll be sing-ing Wild, Wild, I love to be Wild, what a Wild Idea!
Tendrils of winter wind
Still alive in April
Are searching in the hollows
Rushing the hilltops
Restless and chill.
The wind’s search is almost almost endless
And won’t finish until it reaches
The final hidden snow drift
And the last rigid ice, in a dark place
On the side of the river, turns to liquid wonder.
Then in a secret sheltered hollow
It finally comes to rest in the first buffalo calf
Just arrived from the great beyond
To lift its head in this new world
To gaze upward from the earth,
Through cinnamon eyes
At the calm sweet celebration of spring flowers
And the brave green gratitude of new grass.
There once was a grumpy old bovine,
Who would wallow and complain and whine.
He tried to get tougher,
But just couldn’t suffer.
So his bison steak texture stayed divine.
There once was a bison named Nate,
Who roamed the fields happily and ate.
He grew big and wide,
On the green countryside,
And made a delicious addition to my plate.
Ancient ground and wind/ Bison seen on horizon/ Mother Nature smiles
I was minding my own business when a friend perchanced to call
We had a chew and a chat about nothing much at all.
He said “I know you’ve ridden critters from Casper to the Rio Grande”
“You’ve not an ounce of cowardice when it comes to make a stand”.
I’ve seen you atop a buffalo, and sidesaddle on a longhorn steer
From your time of mutton bustin’ you could hit that extra gear.”
“Well I don’t have a world champ buckle or a title to my name
But I’ve ridden and worn the hair off of anything that had game.”
My friend says there’s one critter that no true cowboy has rode
He’s not so far from where we sit-or so I have been told
He lifted a brow at me to see if all of that sunk in
I’m thinking in my head-now there’s a bet that I might win
“Let’s have at it pard, let’s hear some hollars and some hoots”
I was chasing down my bull strap, spurs and hat and boots,
We climbed into his pickup with the stockrack on the bed
I was heading back to glory days, at least in my own head
Then he pulled into the unexpected lot-mighty strange
I’m used to riding bronks and bulls out on the open range
“No matter” said I to he, “sure don’t mind some new found show”
I was greased and ready to cowboy up-I ain’t eatin’ any crow
I put one foot in the stirrup and swung the other leg with care
I rubbed down my rope and strap-it was time for truth or dare
I sat deep in the saddle, took a breath, said let him loose
The way we started out, he must have given that bum a goose
His head went down and butt came up-he sure was playin’ sly
Then he quick reversed both ends and caught me right above the eye
Twisting and cavorting he did his best to break my straddle
But my iron butt stayed glued to the cantle of the saddle
I’m sure I heard some awful screams and snorts and shouts
Not sure if in fun or fear-were they mine-I had my doubts
I had a ton of knowledge and instinct just kicking in
But the beast did as well and mine was wearing thin
I listened for a bell to ring-could 8 seconds take this long
Must have looked a winning ride to the cheering awestruck throng
Wondered how much more action my old bones could take
It was in that hesitation that came my big mistake
His head and butt came up at once-but I was ready for that lurch
But he shaked instead of shimmied-that’s when I lost my perch
My plan midair was to come off clean-live to fight another day
But my left foot stirrup caught and left me hanging in the sway
My head was bouncing off the ground with every violent jerk
My life flashed before me-I should find another line of work
Being dragged and kicked and pounded- I still ain’t no quitter
But I’d give my family jewels to be done with this mangy critter
I sent a prayer aloft-Lord I know you ain’t seen me much at church
But you can see, I’m facing death and I’m really in a lurch
If you could send an angel to come and free me from this mess
I’ll renounce my wicked ways and be a bloke that you can bless
My days were surely numbered-I’ve had a good life’s spin
But I sure wish that I could have seen my grandkids once again
Then the store manager came up and unplugged the darn machine
And he put a sign up where a warning poster should have been
I limped away-my pride and mojo had been cowed
The sign said: FOR KIDS-NO GRAY HAIRED COWBOYS ARE ALLOWED.
I glanced back as I shuffled and the bronk gave me a wink
I’m heading to my porch and chair for a well-deserved drink
HAIL TO THE KING
Once, driving home to Denver from Gillette by way of Buffalo —
All the windows open to that wild Wyoming wind —
I embraced that lovely, lonesome road,
Relishing the thought I was the lone world survivor.
But as I sang along with Garth, as loudly as I could sing,
‘Bout all my friends in low, low places,
I chanced a look east across the plains,
And there in the middle of a wide, open basin,
Taking my breath clean away,
Stood a bison, shoulders tall, beard blowing.
Clearly the King of all he surveyed.
And I was humbled,
And hushed to awed silence, before I whooped and hollered
At the wonders of God’s creation.
Life is good!
HAIL TO THE KING
Once, driving home to Denver from Gillette by way of Buffalo —
All the windows open to that wild Wyoming wind —
I embraced that lovely, lonesome road,
Relishing the thought I was the lone world survivor.
But as I sang along with Garth, as loudly as I could sing,
‘Bout all my friends in low, low places,
I chanced a look east across the plains,
And there in the middle of a wide, open basin,
My breath catching in my throat,
Stood a bison, shoulders tall, beard blowing.
Clearly the King of all he surveyed.
And I was humbled,
And hushed to awed silence, before I whooped and hollered
At the wonders of God’s creation.
Life is good!
Wind blows,
Faintly sweet smells of spring,
Warm golden hues.
Slowly growing through blades of greener grass,
Blue, reflects the pool of life,
Brown commits to earth the mother.
Awakened.
Bison forge their trail with measured tread.
Perceptions dwell here renewed, unfiltered- unrefined, secluded – wistful
Welcoming the golden state of time to come.
The American Buffalo
(Bison bison)
Brown wooly bovine
Thick fleece and hide protect you
From the elements
Mercurial moods
Docile yet cantankerous
Unpredictable!
Once on the edge of
Imminent extinction, now
Your numbers increase
Blanket, meat, and more
Indians’ roaming pantry
Sustainer of a culture
A thread from sinew
Hide and fur for a blanket
Horn shaped as a spoon
Meat into jerky
Pipes and needles made from bone
Brains used to tan hide
All parts had a use
Essence of utility
Nothing was wasted
Sacred ungulate
Natives’ religious icon
Revered by tribesmen
Faunal royalty
Regal roamer of prairie
Monarch of the plains!
Bison and Haiku
Sensory pleasures abound
Body, Mind, Spirit