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The writings of William Purcell writing as Shunkepi Nunpi

Contents

Pictorials

Wounded Knee Pictorial

Littlebig Horn Pictorial

Abby Stewart

People of Turtle Island

SHORT STORIES

My Death

First Encounter

Old Man and the Boy

Grey Wolf

Sun Dance

Wounded Knee

Sweat Lodge

Ghost Shirt

Rides Beneath The Hawk

Wolf In The Heart

Last Journey Together

The Story Of White Owl

Morning Clouds Story

Wolf Society

The Sand Creek Massacre

The White Buffalo Calf Pipe

The Battle Within

The Drum

This Land

Journey
Home

POEMS

Page 1

Page 2

Page 3

Page 4

Page 5

Page 6

Page 7

Page 8

Page 9

Page 10

Page 11

Page 12

Graphics

Page One

Page Two

Page Three

Page Four

Page Five

Page Six

Page Seven

Page Eight

Page Nine

Page Ten

Page Eleven

Page Twelve

Page Thirteen

Page Fourteen

Page Fifteen

Page Sixteen

Page Seventeen

Page Eighteen

Page Nineteen

Page Twenty

Page Twenty-One

Page Twenty-Two

Page Twenty-Three

Page Twenty-Four

Page Twenty-Five

Education Section

History Home Page

The Lakota

Face and Body Painting 1

Face and Body Painting 2

Family Tree

Lakota Words 1

Lakota Words 2

The Pipe

Native American Quotes

The Horse

The Buffalo

Warfare

The Sun Dance

Life and Death

Lakota Word Index

Little Bighorn

The Decline of the Plains Indian

Present Day People of Turtle Island

Sites

Guest Page

Links

 

Poetry Page 1.

OUR CAUSES.
 
I heard the sound of a distant bugle,
On a cold and mournful day,
And then the sound of ponies,
As soldiers came charging our way.
 
I stepped out from my tipi,
Weapons of war in my hands,
My pony was painted for battle,
As we fought to protect our band.
 
They attack us early this morning,
Hoping to catch us asleep,
But we always posted sentries,
So our women would not have to weep.
 
The sound of rifles exploding,
Filled the still morning with dread,
For it signalled the start of the slaughter,
As some of our brothers fell dead.
 
They shoot to kill all before them,
Not caring when killing our young,
Our women they cut down with long knives,
For their day of judgement has come.
 
Their cries of excited frenzy,
As they slaughter without any pause,
Gives them brave heart in the killing,
And renews the faith in their cause.
 
I do not consider them heroes,
These men without honour or heart,
For this is the action of cowards,
And our causes are so far apart.
 
Shunkepi Nunpi
June 1998
 

 

 
SPIRIT LANDS.
 
There are many sacred places,
That I hold so very close,
For in them live my forefathers
In the guise of a vision ghost.
 
They dwell within these Spirit Lands
So that I can come and see,
All the beauty of the lands
Where I can wonder free.
 
For when their bones have turned to dust
They form a layer upon the earth,
On which the people can walk upon
And from which we are granted birth.
 
These Spirit Lands are most sacred,
For they are the peoples heart.
And no path can make us leave it
Or distance keep us apart.
 
And when my time has finally come
To join all those who went before,
Carry my body to the Spirit Lands
So that I may live once more.
 
Shunkepi Nunpi
January 1999
 

 

 
BROTHER.
 
My mother’s name is Running Deer,
She was my first true love,
For I worship her just as much
As the stars shinning high above.
 
My father’s name is Black Dog,
And he shines within my eyes,
For he always burns more brightly
Than the sun up in the sky.
 
The village where I have always lived,
Is the center of my world,
Where I could run and play around
Where I could scream and yell.
 
My elder brother Eagle Feather,
Taught me how to ride,
And it broke my heart the day I learnt
That in a buffalo hunt he’d died.
 
It then left me with two sisters
Who showered their love on me,
One was called Morning Cloud
The other Willow Tree.
 
Although our lives were often hard
It was our love that saw us through.
And then quiet unexpectedly
Our Mother gave birth to you.
 
I sat inside our tipi
Right at my Fathers side,
As we thought of a beautiful name
But we could not decide.
 
It was Morning Cloud who spoke the name
That we would bestow upon you,
For as she played with you upon the hide
We could see the name was true.
 
For she had called you Laughing Bear
And we could plainly see,
That of all the names we had thought about
This one it had to be.
 
And now as I hold you in my arms,
Looking down upon your face,
A distant memory is disturbed
Of another familiar face.
 
Did Eagle Feather have to go,
So that Laughing Bear could come?
For if it’s true I’ll love you more
Than a brother has ever done.
 
Shunkepi Nunpi
January 1999
 

 

 
BROKEN ARROW.
 
You came into our camp un-invited,
To tell us what we must do.
You wanted to show us all your might,
So you lined up your men in blue.
 
You called us all to meeting,
And made us sit upon the ground,
You then talked to us like children
As your smiles turned into a frown.
 
You wanted us to sign your treaties,
That would remove us from our land
We told you we would not sign the paper
This was not what you had planned.
 
You said our Great White Father,
Would send more soldiers here,
But if we signed your treaties
We would have nothing to fear.
 
You then offered us some blankets
To help keep out the cold,
You promised us more presents
If we would do as we were told.
 
Our chief he then stood before you
And began to explain about the land,
How it belonged to each generation
And was not owned by any man.
 
But you would not listen to his words,
And then you threatened us with war.
He then broke an arrow across his thigh
For we’ll give you what you’re looking for.
 
Shunkepi Nunpi
January 1999

 

 

   

     

Copyright @ William Purcell 2002
All rights reserved.