Best Chief Poems
An Indian chief, named Bold Eagle,
Once lived with his faithful old beagle.
He maintained his station,
Without reservation,
In a style that was in tents, but regal.
He sits Alone, In the rising sun ; or is it a setting Moon?
With a birch bark Flute, a sadden Heart plays a very lonely tune
Go north, then west, says Chief Roaring Eagle, I’ll be with You soon
You can feel the tears of “Roaring Eagle” rolling down Your cheek
As he plays a forlorn melody ( of history ) his birch bark flute : sings bleak
For his Native American Ancestry : a Heritage where tribal Leaders “Speak”
Of Yesterdays, when canoes would travel the rivers, catching trout in the creek
In remembrance when Buffalo, Deer, roamed the plains, Salmon owned streams
When a Young Brave, became a man, Hunting in the Forest ; Alone with His dreams
Alone with the mysteries of Life with the voice of Forefathers’ forever heard screams
As the Flute sings to the barren forest of bygones,Chief Roaring Eagle’s Eye, Gleams
In Thanksgiving to the Almighty, the Song of Life , Continues to reassure the Living
The echoes of the birch bark flute reverberate through a dieing forest, ever Living
Go North, then West, to a new land where the Songbirds sing of LOVE: and Thrive
Where the melody of a birch bark Flute ; Sings to Nature we are now again “ ALIVE
Inspired by the Contest "Tell His Story" sponsored by ~Constance~ A Rambling POET
Written by HGarvey Daniel Esquire~~ Dedicated to all Native Americans
9th Place
Is there no place to cast my eyes and look
Without the mug of the felonous crook
Ranting til he turns red
What was it that he said?
"I couldn't care less!" The attitude he took
He doesn't care if his tariffs raise prices
Obsufcation is one of his devices
Scooby Dubious is he
People are blind not to see
Vengeance is one of his many vices
It's Trump this and Trump that. Enough. Good grief!
Aleve, please. My headache needs quick relief
It's attention he seeks
With greediness he reeks
Dictator Donald: Kommandant in Chief
Americans are rising in revolt
Some in the party have started to bolt
In scandal he's basking
And many are asking,
"How ya like him now, that dictating dolt?"
Indians, Chiefs, Braves, Warriors, Redskins and Vikings!
Seems the politically correct crowd is upset with such things!
They're disturbed that sports teams bearing such names are a disgrace,
And that they humiliate and debase the dignity of folks of any given race!
It just so happens that with the PC crowd I have a little beef!
I'm a CHIEF Master Sergeant and Once a CHIEF - Always a CHIEF!
I earned a most worthy title that seems to irritate that pitiful crowd;
Try to take it away from me if you dare, but I'm not so easily cowed!
Robert L. Hinshaw, Chief Master Sergeant, USAF, Retired
March 30 Relationship to God Bible Meditations Based on 1Kings 8-10
Key Verse –1Kings 8:17 And it was in the heart of David my father to build an house for the name of the LORD God of Israel.
LORD GOD, YOU ARE MY LIFE’S CHIEF BUILDER
Lord God, You are my life’s Chief Builder by Your covenant’s steadfastness
Thank You for upholding me upon Your truth-firmness
So I can learn from Your lovingkindness
And enjoy Your bliss of peacefulness.
Lord God, You are my life’s Chief Builder by Your Word’s instruction
Thank You for answering me along my prayer and supplication
So I can have Your forgiveness of pardon’s completion
And walk through Your direction.
Lord God, You are my life’s Chief Builder by Your statutes’ command
Thank You for helping me to offer sacrifices of biblical demand
So I can serve You with dedication, divinely planned
And stay in Your goodness of heaven-brand.
Lord God, You are my life’s Chief Builder by Your pleasantness’ desire
Thank You for transforming me according to what You require
So I can get near Your throne where I should retire
And worship You along Your mercies that never expire.
Lord God, You are my life’s Chief Builder by Your rewards’ furnishing
Thank You for raising me up in Your revival-refreshing
So I can involve in Your ministry of character-polishing
And labour in Your work’s perfection-finishing.
Lord God, You are my life’s Chief Builder by Your name’s fame
Thank You for communing with me through Your wisdom-frame
So I can learn and be freed from foolish judgment’s shame
And delight in Your Gospel of salvation-claim.
Lord God, You are my life’s Chief Builder by Your kingship’s authority
Thank You for enriching me with Your Scriptures’ certainty
So I can abide inside Your bestowed security
And abound in Your compassion-braced liberty.
March 30, 2023
The fire chief was in a great big tight
Was holding his cheeks with all his might
At the bus station did stop
Cost a dime to use the pot
Now his drawers a pitiful sight
Long ago my husband worked as a fireman.
They were on a trip to get some schooling.
On the way the chief had a sudden attack of diarrhea.
They stopped at the bus station but they charged a dime to use the
facilities..He did not have a dime ___well you know the rest of the
story.....
My muse sighs and leaves me unwell
and cuckolds me like faithless love
as if she's ne'er my god or belle,
afflatus or creative breath
who came from the summits above
to save me from poetic death!
"Why go, O Calliope!?" I yell;
her leaving brings about such woe
and inexpressible sorrow
that's too profound, too deep to tell:
I pray to Zeus I'll never know
this Melancholia of hell!
My muse sighs and takes leave of me,—
I yell, "Why go, O Calliope!?
Watching the slow journey of his people
leaving their Navajo land
sad Manuelito
He sits tall astride his steed, their leader
saddened by the enforced move
new settlement awaits
Haastin Ch'il Haajiní,* new name
given him by his people
Died of measle virus
• Sir Black Reed. Named after the place amongst the black reeds
Did you remember
To set your clock back
241-years?
SONGS TO MY CHIEF KPORKU
In this house of yours
The air brews of peace
That long, we longed to feel
That atmosphere of dreamed love
What a father gives us, babies
Open like ripen fruits of a great fan palm
To which ants throng in chains
To which bees throng in droves
And we humans hunts hungrily
Only for the comforts we cherish
From you great King of people.
The heart of our souls
The Soul of our hearts
To which our chords are anchored
Never snap to let loose of us
As this world is too open, too cruel, too blind
Ready not to favour orphans
Without a link to your dream for us, live
So in perpetual flow
Cover us, our shade
Protect me, my armour
Father them, the mentor.
To make our song complete
Been composed of you, Togbui Kporku
Limerick: Once Big Chief Indian called Count Big Toe
Once Big Chief Indian called Count Big Toe
Always counting loud fingers and big toe
Big toes said they worth: Two!
Small toes wanted that Too!
Cut big toes: Now called Big Chief Count No Toe!
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2013
A Deal with the Chief Campaigner
©2012 C. Brent Cloyd
There was a House Speaker named Boehner
Sought a deal with the chief campaigner
For budget cuts he did hope
But campaigner said nope
For how would we pay the retainers?
Brave Indian warrior
Sitting alone in the woods
In the soft glowing light
Of a low hanging moon
Shining on the mighty river
Brave Indian warrior
Playing the flute
The forest comes alive
Animals waking from slumber
To hear his melancholy tune
Brave Indian warrior
Deep in thought
The music lets him escape
Taking his mind of things
And focusing
Brave Indian warrior
Reflecting on the past
Thinking of all he did
All he could do
All he should have done
Brave Indian warrior
All alone now
Concentrating
Drifting away
Into exploration of the mind
~~Written By~Brittany Larson~
For Constance's contest ~"Tell His Story"
upon the eve o' hallow night
when demons cackle, what a fright!
where black cats eyes appear aglow
in headlights cast, I surely know
that my survival must depend
on garlic necklace, tied end to end
but if these measures aren't enough
to vanquish ghosts and scary stuff
then once again, old tried and true
my Nixon Mask, will surely do!
Limerick: Once Steppes Chief Mongol in a loose hose
Once Steppes Chief Mongol in a loose hose
Tried to jump Great Wall with horse and Rose
Horse kicked hole in hose goal
Chief bored hole in the Wall
Guess who licked Rose red-in-the-nose?
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2013
MERRY XMAS to ALL Soupers !