Best Chieftain Poems
Prometheus had erred and caused great ire
when stealing in stealth secrets of fire.
But Zeus could not forgive this deed.
The chieftain of gods punished his greed.
The lightning zigzagged across the sky,
in anger he let thunderbolts fly.
Instructions he gave to mould from earth
a woman endowed to prove her worth,
all humans to touch their lives and shift
the balance with her seductive gift.
Hephaestus was told what to create;
Pandora came forth through heaven’s gate.
Athena supplied her silver gown,
her head she adorned with ornate crown.
She hastened to guile the human race
her nature refined to tempt by grace
alluring deceit that knew no shame
her mission withstood distrust or blame.
Pandora’s torment flowed wide and far.
She carried with her an earthen jar.
Instructions were laid to be obeyed
to keep it enclosed and so it stayed
till yearning became hard to resist
temptation knew well how to insist.
Alone by herself beside a brook
she lifted the lid, a glancing look
that opened the flood to evil force
unhindered it spread and took its course.
She panicked and pushed with all her might;
the damage was done – eternal plight.
A trickle of hope was left inside
but hardly enough to turn the tide.
When laws are defied they cause much grief;
the pleasure derived is false and brief.
Temptation is what destroys the weak;
redemption is there for all to seek.
Forever in life it’s hard to cope.
Pandora we chase in search of hope.*
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* Pandora is chased for the only thing left in her jar – hope.
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Author: Paul Callus
Contest: Men Only #2
Sponsor: Kelly Deschler
Placed 1st
Categories:
chieftain, hope,
Form:
Epic
Roads rising up from Irish mists in merry jigs
To the flowing tenor song
Sung by the River Boyne born from Tara's Keep
As Patrick's paschal fire
Weaves truth from stones of blarney
And lucky charms of Erin's spring
Cloth hills in kilts of green clovers with four leaves
To the Kerry pipers wail of jigs and tiompan reels
When soft sunbeams kiss fields - the wind petals
Of Killarney's rose in Londonderry Airs
Born in fifes and fiddles in soft brogues
Delighting in tea and scones - the clairsel harp -
When clear cut crystal rays
Embrace green fields clothed in sheep -
Faire mischief - the wind dance of the Kells -
In bohdran thunder to banish banshee cries
As pirate queens and lost chieftain kings
Sail from emerald shores
Until they meet again beneath the blessings
Of the Celtic cross
In the north winds of the fair aran island.
Categories:
chieftain, poetry,
Form:
Free verse
The dawn spoke her name like a silken secret
carried carefree by the tradewinds of lust and larceny
imported from the traderoutes of paradise and pandemonium,
sequined with violet venom she venerates the virtue of volition
her love is unlawful, unequalled in unrest, righteous in conquest,
tender in temptation, torrid your surrender, her beauty a will bender,
Queen of Empire Passion, warrior unknown to submission
her kingdom was not inherited, glory and throne ungifted,
the treasures, stables and territories, battles and crown all won,
rich in intellect, endowed with rare resources, affluent in original passion
bejeweled in natural beauty, she bewitches beasts and men alike,
Poets pen her preciously as Woman Total, Priests implore her pardon,
male servants pander to her anger and ardor, satisfaction she commands,
Sisterhood the symbol and soul of her mission,
I was just a man, a wanderer wading through her reign,
from the unsubdued North I came, a curious traveler with ancient name,
my tribe unfamiliar, underestimated, a Chieftain of steady pulse,
tresspassing towards her roots my aim was direct knowledge of her
woman of renown cunning and learning, woman of exotic ability,
seeking teaching and romance, though I would not be her Subject or victim,
this she knew, this she abhorred, a challenge to her dominance,
I agreed to meet her alone in the open morning of war,
in an abeyounce of gliding fire she comes riding out of the sun
regalia of black roses against red tears flying above her shoulder,
our horses begin a battle tromp, breaths heavy with moist mania
she has leopards in her eyes
poinsettias and death's palms painted on thighs,
scalps of exlovers and enemies slung on sadle
we acknowledge one another with ritual yell
I exclaim, Warrior Poetess, she screams Poet Warrior!
dismounting with mutual vigor our combat erupts
cutting my cheek with her blade's lip
kicking me in the ribs
I clinch her collared throat
and heel trip us to the ground
she snarls, I growl,
a glimpse of rescue in eachother's eyes -
J.A.B.
Categories:
chieftain, courage, desire, fantasy, gothic,
Form:
Epic
Legends of tribes roam across the plains
Bold spirits guarding their own mighty land
They dance and offer songs to ease lost reign
And nourish life when soldiers flag on,
Encircling a bonfire with shaman’s praise.
The whisper of the winds gives them strength
An Indian terrain, they protect
Oh, hear drumbeats pound a mighty roar
As chieftain gathers the arrow’s quest
For the call of blood, for freedom’s dreams.
Legends passed from generations
Navajos marginalized, tales unfold
When duskfall speaks of native wisdom
To recount strides in brave moccasins
Marking prints from whisper of the winds.
'In the Name of Love for Country -
and Brian's Select 6
Categories:
chieftain, freedom, native american,
Form:
Lyric
The ancient prophecy foretold
so very long ago ...
has finally arrived
Coming swiftly on eagle wings
The howling wind carries piercing night cries,
as open iron claws fall
from the mountain sky
And the slumber days, shown many moons ago,
has awakened death — cursed faces
carved on the fallen totem poles
So many, many moons ago,
my careless people were told
by the Almighty Spirit
not to pray to their vain wooden idols,
whom they worshiped in the forest groves
A flood of tears would one day wash upon the shores,
and bathe my people in the ashes
of their burnt fallen totem poles
Our unheeded shamans foretold
of a white pestilence cleansing of the land,
and our idol hearts would be broken
Visions of rivers of blood
from a snow-capped mountain would flow
As foretold ... so many moons ago
We should not have slaughtered the innocent
of our enemies, whom we last fought ...
giving them no mercy shown
Now our wooden sins have revisited us,
with the steady waves of pale crested sails,
seen upon the new moon horizon shores
This changing color of the evergreen leaves
and red clay soil
was foreseen so many moons ago
And the fate of the ebony mane buffalo
is the spirit path we now weepingly follow
Yes, the fall of my prideful people was foretold,
so many moons ago
And I cover my bowed chieftain head
with the ashes of the toppled totem poles
Categories:
chieftain, culture, history, native american,
Form:
Dramatic Verse
Tracie ~*~ Indigo Dreamweaver
Contest Name 'New Beginnings
20 thousand and more years, then,
We came away from Mars,
Gravity ships with field deflection,
Electromagnetic with the stars.
Come we then amongst the humans,
Tiny short and feeble be,
We were 8 feet tall, us true men,
They might make just 5 foot 3.
Sent to bring them from the darkness,
Bring the light to all who’d see,
To use the mental might a blessing,
See it happen, to make it be.
Rad Arrigo met a maiden,
fine of feature yes was she,
Amber Aqua little maiden,
soon had children, one two three.
Challenged by a Chieftain was the Arrigo,
Changed his mind and let em be,
Mentally taught him love not hate now,
Arrigo willed it, saw it, see…
Perfect were these little women,
Innocent and so coy you see,
Improve the race, life so grim then,
Giants in the land it was to be….
So the crops were started irrigated,
With food came huts and prosperity,
Temples built big blocks migrated,
Mentally cut, sized and shaped by we.
Mind the creator does it all,
Fixed broken bones, so visually,
See it happen walk ye tall,
Mind can fix it, you will see.
Healers learn to use the picture,
See her face just mentally,
See her aorta a bulging,
See it shrink and shrink, heal thee …
Be thou patient with thy learning,
It takes time to get for ye,
Be consistent with your yearning,
Keep the faith and it will be.
Don Johnson
Anti gravity was provided by two electromagnetic fields on board which negated
Gravity of the Earth to free it from the planet using the stepping stones of space and the
attracting gravity magnified of the planets…
Categories:
chieftain, fantasy
Form:
Ballad
“Fair fa’ your honest, sonsie, face
Great Chieftain o’ the Puddin-race!”
“Address To A Haggis”, Robert Burns, 1786.
(Keeper o’er the Fourth Kingdom)
Robert, Robert, Fourth Kingdom
Gate Keeper.
No Telestial glory
Befits the poet deeper!
Wherefore is thy legacy
Robert Burns, regretfully
Wherefore is thy Haggis?
Thy Puddin’ flees before thee.
Thy Hippopotami give birth
Purple, purple, such deliver
The royal eggplant hatchling
That multiplies the giver!
Celestial porridge is thy claim
As such befits thy story
But no resplendent poet name
Perpetuates thy glory
Terrestial kingdoms blissfully
Reject that higher leaven
But thou hast won, delectably
That Kingdom Fourth of Heaven!
Categories:
chieftain, imagery, inspirational, literature, passion,
Form:
Romanticism
Alphabet war.........
A is for aggressor, they're the ones who start wars,
B is for breath, when a bullet takes yours.
C is for Chieftain, a great British tank,
D for the death in trenches so dank.
E for endowment that the army will give,
F for the funeral, in case you don't live.
G is for guns, that you carry around,
H for the heather, when you're dead on the ground.
I is identity, the tags round your neck,
J for the jangles, while on sentry you check.
K for the killer, with weapon in hand,
L for the love of your quiet homeland.
M for my mother, my mentor is she,
N is for nurture, what she did then for me.
O you obliterate, any foe you will see,
P for the pacifists, and for peace is their plea.
Q for the Queen, and her country they fight,
R is the rapier, aimed with optical sight.
S for the soldiers, who've been trained in the field,
T for the tanks, and the power they yield.
U the unexpected sights you will see,
V is for victory, and the love of the free.
W for the wounded, which I hope you stay clear,
X is for xenon and the chemicals we fear.
Y for the youths this poem may teach,
Z is for zenith, put your hands out and reach.
Categories:
chieftain, war,
Form:
Rhyme
I’m the whispering voice of legacies long sense past, the overseer
Of generations traveling with broken wings of tribal tradition,
A vanquished chieftain, whom sheds his sacred feathers, as tears
Shame upon the white man’s winds of manifest destiny.
Clarity’s shattered warrior languishing within a river of
Crimson shoals, drowning beneath salvations suffering,
Wounded left at bending knees of mercy, abandon, with
Our archers crushed bow, and idle arrows of sorrow, upon
The battle field of ignorance and indifference.
Kindred leaves of humanities autumn,
Left torn and tossed asunder,
Tatters remnants, drifting loosely on the breeze
Of progress,
Built upon the ash pile of a nation’s people.
Many life flames flicker at the sacred fire beyond,
Hear the drumming’s roar; it is the beating heart,
The bleeding soul, crying out for revenge, but
Driven deeply is the spear of destiny, piercing
The righteous spirit, shattering it into a million
Pieces, that descends as raindrops of regret.
Treaties promises melt away as paper confetti,
Burnt embers offerings left as crisp fiery spray,
Floating in the deadened chill of winter’s forth
Coming.
Beneath the singed blankets of tribal markings,
Lie huddled the feeble of starvation, those whom
Desire to feed from the table of their ancient culture,
But these eloping breasts are drained dry.
Behold these starving cannot remember the flavor
Of her milks taste, nor the fragrance of her natural
Perfume, for they are the lost tribe of humanity,
People of the desert prairie, blown apart by the
Scorching winds of fate.
I’m the whispering voice of legacies long sense past, the overseer
Of generations traveling with broken wings of tribal tradition,
A vanquished chieftain, whom sheds his sacred feathers, as tears
Shame upon the white man’s winds of manifest destiny.
Harken my children and listen, for wind whisper walks amongst
You, and I’ll mend the bow, with prides honor, in faith’s devotion,
The ancient warrior shall ride again, against the flames of our
Sacred fire, and thus the weeping woman shall cry no more.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Categories:
chieftain, america, history, imagery, imagination,
Form:
Free verse
Hear the whispering voices of our tribal ancestors,
Echoing against the rough rock skin of Chacoan Canyon,
Telling the outsider white devils, that this is sacred ground,
Do not dare to tread here, for your own salvation's sake,
Lies at risk.
Can't these intruders hear, the rattling bones of the dead,
Beating against the native drums, calling forth the guardians
Whom protect these revered mountains, and ancient?
Forgotten ruins.
It's a presence of malevolence, given off by shadow stalkers,
Whom elude detection, spiritual chameleons these the unseen
And the unheard.
At dusk's twilight hour, does blood's mountain so flicker
Crimson red, for within dwells the beast, whom feast upon
The forsaken, those who have desecrated the purity
Of this sacred tribal land.
Weeping women of generations plead for mercies
Leniency, but the creature knows only basic instincts
Need for survival, and this is his native hunting grounds
Territory.
Can you not feel its eyes watching you from above?
Does not the hair stand up straight on the back of
Your neck, flee out-lander to a different venues location,
Before it is too late.
No medicine man's enchantment, or incantation's spell,
Can save thee, the sacred right's ritual is older than the
Desert sands that blow against these rock canyon walls.
In this arid arena the fallen are taken prisoner, by a dark
Phantom gladiator, who seemly is made of vaporous mist.
But the chieftain elders praise his existence, for he is a
Guardians sent by the power of the Great Spirit,
To protect and guard this land of native wonder.
Many thrill seekers come here to behold nature
In its raw state of brilliance, and few leave
Unscathed, for they have been touched by
The presence of the supernatural.
In chacoan Canyon, where the Colorado River
Still runs wild and free.
A killer crouches in a stance's freeze, waiting
For his next meal to step forth onto his sacred
Feeding grounds, welcome tourist, unto the ritual
Bloody feast.
The beast does smile, with fiendish delight, come'
Any further my friend, the creature speaks, and
You belong to me for all eternity.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Categories:
chieftain, adventure, america, halloween, history,
Form:
Free verse
410 AD when mythology takes hold
Barbarians threaten to conquer Rome
Roman troops abandon Britain, head home
But Chieftain Vortigern seizes the throne
Britain’s new king sought to flex his power
Mt. Snowden’s site chosen for his tower
But before Vortigern builders cowered
Ever-crumbling walls left his face sour
Soothsayers were beckoned and wove a tale
A fatherless boy must be brought to Wales
His blood be shed and his future curtailed
If hopes for the tower were to prevail
A princess was said to have spawned an heir
Whose father had simply vanished in air
Leaving the single mother in despair
And the ghost’s voice she still heard she declared
Her son Merlin was brought before the king
Vortigern scowled when he began laughing
Merlin said ‘neath the tower lay a spring
That’s why its unsettled walls kept crumbling
He claimed serpents were below ground as well
The king quickly fell under the boy’s spell
Diggers found both as the lad did foretell
Merlin’s life spared, his reputation swelled
To escape wrath from a king with clout
The tower’s real problem this boy figured out
The “magician” name he could do without
But a sharp wiz kid was Merlin, no doubt
*Friends, I did extensive research on Merlin
and this is what I learned. Is the story true?
Yes, to the best of my knowledge.
Vortigern was a true character and this is
allegedly how he discovered Merlin.
Categories:
chieftain, fantasy, history
Form:
Rhyme
The Escape from the Turkish Slavery
(Ukrainian historic folk song)
There broke into the Tartar sprites,
And they captured my daughter, nice,
Marusyna, my daughter, dear,
I remained with one son in fear.
And there came others- my son was enslaved,
And a widow, a poor orphan, I remained.
The third time, they took me too, an old soul...
... a Turk took me to the service,
I began to toil and slave
Serving the foe every day.
The daughter didn’t recognize her nurse
Having given her the works, the worst:
With the hands- to spin the yarn, fine,
With the little feet- to lull the child,
To watch the flock- with the eyes…
They found themselves in one place
All three meeting face to face.
When the daughter was recognized by the mother
And, when also confessed the brother…
They were united with one another.
Then the daughter began to tell the Turk,
That's my brother, this is my mother,
Then, the Turk began to trust them.
He entrusted them with all his goods.
They did everything, not to delude
Thinking, dreaming of their home.
When the Turk and daughter were going to the ball,
They handed the keys from the houses, all;
The son and the mother were taking the golden keys,
The souls of the slaves from the cellars to release,
Saddling the horses to start their way
To travel back home again.
Oh they were crossing the Danube, Dunahj,
The Turks, low-natured, were on a catch-ride.
On the other bank, they shouted:
"Oh Ivan, Ivan!
You know and you know,
And take the infusion of wormwood,
And, you will know even better for good! "
Chieftain Ivan Korsun began to narrate:
"I crossed the Danube River -
Denied the enemy forever! "
(Translation from Ukrainian into English by Ivan Petryshyn)
The Escape from the Turkish Slavery
Categories:
chieftain, history, slavery,
Form:
Ballad
Unkosi Rholihlahla Mandela,
born into the Madiba clan in the village of Qunu
grow up in Mvezo in Umtata,Transkei
Dalibhunga, the prince of the Tembu tribe
son of umama Nonqaphi Nosekeni
son of Nkosi Hendry Mphakanyiswa Gadla Mandela
father of South African freedom
ward of Chief Jongintaba Dalindyebo
at the Great Place in Mqhekezweni
acting regent of the Thembu nation
boy from the Thembu royal homestead
icon of peace and justice.
sun that rises in the grim atmosphere
commander-in-chief of Umkhonto we Sizwe
dedicated himself to the struggle of the African people
South Africa’s greatest son
the greatest leader of our time
the giant of the South African history
the Son of Africa’s children
uBawomkhulu,
the man who pioneered the new patriotism in this unique country
the principal of his destiny
the commander of his soul
he represented hope and freedom
through his dignity, through his triumph, he inspired millions
the father of our nation
He who will live on in the hearts & minds of people throughout the world
the one who cherished the ideal of a democratic and free society
he who taught us reconciliation
he who embraced his enemies
one of the brightest lights of our world has gone out
a great tree has fallen
the son of a Tembu tribal chieftain is gone
Siyakuhlonipha
Tata Sizokukhumbula
Hamba kahle Tata!
Categories:
chieftain, best friend, brother, father,
Form:
Free verse
He razzed Iran’s chieftain emir
Cotton's had his writing premiere
The paparazzi
Might call him a Nazi
But he's just a smart profiteer
Author's note: This young senator reminds me of someone who might have attended a Hitler youth camp. Fear is his opportunity. While he is strangely self-assured, he is on the same side of the nuclear negotiations as the Iranian hardliners. He doesn't go back and talk about the time the USA overthrew the democratically elected government of Iran and installed the brutal Shah. (Even if that information is critical to the relationship we now have with the Iranians.) If talks fail we know there will be a short term benefit to certain groups. Are you affiliated with them, Senator? Follow the $$$.
Categories:
chieftain, crazy,
Form:
Limerick
Ode to Rabbie Burns.
. I was up before the dawn,
still half asleep for sure.
I struggled into wellies
and headed for the moor.
The heather smelt so fine,
my Whisky tasted good
as i put away the hip flask
and walked towards the woods.
I went in through the bracken
and quietness was a need.
The search was now in earnest
for this is where they feed.
At first i checked the traps
all empty such a shame.
This Beastie was elusive
would you like to know his name?
He is only found in Scotland
on moors and deep in woods
and sometimes changes colour
depending on his moods.
His diet it is Heather
the purple is the best,
though sometimes he eats Neeps
to farmers he"s a pest.
His legs they number three
he has no grace or poise,
and if theres more than one
they really make a noise.
They taste so good and spicy
with pepper and with salt.
Served up with Tatties and Neeps
washed down with a single malt.
But have you guessed his name,
would you know one face to face.
Robert Burns it was who called him
" Great chieftain o the pudding-race"
Yes it is the Haggis,
let"s all take it in turns
and raise your glass in homage
"Oh heres tae Rabbie Burns"
Categories:
chieftain, food
Form:
Rhyme