Best Feud Poems
But later that night the girl tip-toed out,
And went down to the registry desk.
She picked up the ledger, poured through it all,
There was something that she had to check.
Back upstairs she went, content to wait
Her quarry had not yet arrived.
He loved was awake, and smiled at her
The kind the makes a man feel alive.
She smiled back and asked for his name,
She’d forgotten to ask in the rush.
He said ‘Clarence Stone,’ and out came her gun,
And she pointed it straight at his gut.
She said,’My name is Ellie-May Burton,
Sent out two months ago on this path,
To track down a Stone who ran to the west,
Hoping to escape our wrath!’
But he heard a catch in her harsh tone,
And in her gun-hand a slight shiver.
He couldn’t forget the warmth of her touch,
So one final chance her did give her:
He nodded and said,’Then fire away,’
With a coldness that made the soul quake.
The gun fell from her hands, and she lit out,
Running from the hotel without break.
Come morning he road, pointed northwest
Unnerved, but his decision remained,
To return to Kentucky and die in a feud
Was a choice not made by the sane.
In the bright prairie light a rider appeared,
A familiar woman on a mare.
She rode up slowly, face red form tears,
No weapon upon him did bear.
He moved closer slowly, hand on his gun,
But she said,’Clarence, there’s no need.
I’ve been thinking all night on what I’m to do
Of the future and of dark deeds.’
‘Of a good man who stood, fought by my side,
And put on a fine show in bed.
Yet my family demands, for forgotten crimes
That I put a bullet in his head.’
‘Perhaps it is best, what you’re doing now,
Riding out a free man to the wild.
To be ride of the hate that has put kin in graves,
Since the days when I was a child.’
‘They say that a woman needs a good man,
And the good men need themselves a wife.
I may not be so good, but I think you and I
Could ride out and build ourselves a life.’
Then she went silent, he waited and thought
Of the chances and of the risks.
But the pain in her eyes told the whole truth
She he rode close and planted a kiss.
They moved out at a trot, both realizing that
Amongst the worst you sometimes find the best,
And to this very day countless Burton-Stones
Are scattered all over the west.
Clarence Stone stepped into the saloon,
Tired from long days on the trail.
He was riding on west to far Idaho,
Where land awaited, spacious and hale.
He was fleeing a feud that had consumed
The families of Burton and Stone.
Rather than die for an old hate,
He had set out with all that he owned.
Inside the bar one thing he did espy:
A woman beautiful and tanned,
With flowing black hair and emerald eyes,
Dressed in the jeans of a man.
Why such a woman was here, he didn’t know,
But she clearly seemed to belong.
She tossed back whiskey and joined the choir
Of the men’s raucous, cow-punching songs.
Stone went for a drink, and sat at the bar
Planning out the rest of his night,
When a man shouted ‘cheat,’ and all sprung up
The saloon gave itself over to fight!
Stone swung as they came, holding his own,
And the woman just off to his right,
Danced and dodged, kicked and swung,
Shrieking loudly her delight…
But her speed failed, and job it got through,
She stumbled, fell back to the floor.
So bold Clarence charged, bull-rushed the man,
Who whimpered and cried out,’No More!’
He helped the girl up, but she grabbed his neck,
And slammed him into a deep kiss.
She broke with a grin, and turned to the fray
Saying,’Come on! Let’s go finish this!’
Ten minutes later they both stumbled out
Sweaty with hard-fought victory.
Stone tried to move off, but she grabbed his wrist
Saying,’Oh No! You’re not done with me!’
They went to her hotel, hurried and hot
And up the grand stair-case did tear.
I won’t go into detail on what happened next,
For a gentleman doesn’t go there…
CONCLUDES IN PART II.
Fiery hate-fueled war
Fierce, continued conflict
Frightful heart-breaking blight
Ferocious, savage sight
Forgoes chances to mend
Forsakes pleas, “This much end!”
Flouts God’s command to LOVE*
*Mark 12:31 (King James Version): “Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself.”
Fiery, vicious, ire-filled dispute
Ferocious, savage, shocking fight
Flagrant show of hate so acute
Frightful, vitriolic blight
Forgoes any chances to mend
Forsakes God's command: Let hate end.
Fails to deal with furor's root.
June 4, 2018, entered in Joseph May's Pleiades Contest
I fell in love with Lady Ann,
A pleasure just to hold her hand-
Loved watching her move in the gentle wind,
A beautiful sight with her sparkling skin-
Could hardly wait to see her face,
Proposal inked, to her I raced-
Then a startled look upon her came,
The man behind called out her name-
"Wait a moment sir," he blared,
With puzzled eyes, at her, I stared-
"Tis my love there, you're talking to,"
Tried to think, what shall I do?
"If you're a gentleman, I challenge a duel,"
"Nothing better," he said, "just us two,"
"Choose your weapon," said he to I,
"To one of us, she surely lied."
Tears down my face, but not out of fear,
Had I made a mistake in loving you, dear?
Ann's facial expressions, still as could be,
Was it him that she loved, or was it me?
I smiled at the stranger, he was very polite,
Neither one of us really wanted to fight-
Ann had betrayed us, and she didn't care,
When the duel would finish, a love would be there-
Pistols were the weapons of choice,
Twenty paces out, "TURN," said the voice-
Like hunters together, our pistols we aimed,
Last words out of her were both of our names!
A sunken tombstone lay on either side,
The wall itself enswathed in moss and fern,
Fragmented, as the bond of blood which died
Before the grave envelopped each in turn.
Two brothers who had once been closest friends
Who ran through fields and forests hand in hand,
Too proud and hard of heart to make amends,
Had forced a subdivision of the land.
Their Father, by such hatred torn apart,
With his own weathered hands had built the wall
Each brick ripped out a portion of his heart
Partitioning his sons once and for all.
Now woodland hides their memories from sight
But passers-by will often stop and stare
To contemplate man's universal plight
And wonder why the rugged wall is there.
10.10.20
A Wall In The Woods Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Craig Cornish
N/A COMPLETELY YOUR CHOICE (28)any form any theme Brian Strand JUDGED :10/18/2020
Hm's And Na's October 2020 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France
How much do families know?
Follow me s its going to be a show
There will be laughter so keep it on the down low
A question I would ask, “Name something people should do, but don’t”
The number one answers being, TRY, MOVEMENT, CONFIDENCE, ASSURANCE AND PERUASION
Next question of my own being, “Name something people would do, but can’t”
The top answers, WRITE, TEACH, INFLUENCE, ENCOURAGE, EFFORT and EXPLORE
Many families would say all the wrong answers
It seemed it would be best if a Deer just pranced
All the families thinking on the wrong theory
A game show shouldn’t have its own mystery
Three X’s when a family loses
The other family being more enthused with the idea in being determined in not having a loss
Points awarded in what was on the Family Feud Board
Until next time with more fun
But tonight we are done.
The love that knows no boundary set by clan;
The clans that know no love except for war;
The flower that dares to bloom, but never can;
This then the story Shakespeare told, in core.
And what the nature of a petty feud?
Where pride replaces peaceful, prosperous life;
Where little things as mountains are construed,
And things far greater die within its strife.
How might a lesser quill have writ the tale?
One family good, the other dripping ill;
The timeless lie, the righteous must prevail;
And happiness the final act to fill.
But not these things, you had much more to say:
And that is why we think of you today.
___________
The heroine indulging in quarrels (kalaha)
with her beloved, might well suffer remorse
later, and try to end it all.
__________________
Not dagger, even aversion robs life,
My Love, I know it is no less a knife,
Pray forget my harsh words,
Let’s be the same love birds.
O try and look me through my heart,
If wish, even split it apart
To see if ye find anything but love for you,
Tell me then where I failed, give me a clue,
Why hast that vast store of love dried in you?
Why in place of love-showers this sky blue?
Recall, we had pledged together to live
And walk one day together to life’s eve.
_______________________
Natya Shastra | 06.02.2025 | Rhyme,
Note: This is sixth of Ashta-Nayikas, eight heroine types, as classified in a Sanskrit treatise on performing arts in Bharata’s Natya-Shastra. The state (avastha) of the eight romantic heroines widely themed in Indian paintings, literature, sculpture, classical dance forms and music. Kalahantarita is the sixth of the eight such heroines depicted here in poetic form.
Family feud
Hurt feelings
Misunderstood words
Anger rampage
Rant and rave
Pick up phone, listen to it ringing
Hang up before they answer
Civil war? Cold war? Gulf war?
Social media.
Review every single post,
Carefully,
Honestly,
And never post in haste
best to avoid all feuds
especially in a family.
Fire's fickle flare falls down
Rosy cheeks
with violent wet streaks
of fury shattered against the
shores of tragedy.
Hair torn, grace forlorn
feigning futile fights from last morn
now rendered pointless
by endless scorn.
Free flows follow fine lines
between sorrowful and happy times
bittersweet empty crimes
unsustained lies,
times terrible truths held to roost
smashing boundaries juiced
like sour limes.
Green, with envy
no longer gently held
behind dry mascara recently welled
and screams, so gleefully yelled
at who?
The vast verbal vindictive void,
the nothing, the emptiness
You held so deep, that only
passion could melt that frozen keep.
teeth gnashing like a spiked portcullis
holding back your mortal lips
from words so venomous they bring abyss.
- A journey started by a single kiss.
Finally Found A Family Feud
What we finally found was family feud,
Full of many lies and often did delude;
No joking;
Family broken;
Their each part now existed in solitude.
Jim Horn
The battle well fought,
Blood drips from the blade.
Clans kill each other,
A grave history made.
Women and children weep,
Men driven by fear.
Prejudice handed down,
Death year after year.
The torch forever blinds,
The flame of hatred burns.
A sad lesson taught,
But no one ever learns.
With malice in their hearts,
The war will never end.
The righteous always rise,
To do it once again.
I was eight when she first talked about her mother,
Thought she was raised and bred by only her father.
I had known her father since I was an infant,
Thought while growing up, mother was recalcitrant,
I couldn’t ask questions before she departed,
‘Twas later I knew she had had her depleted.
I knew she had taken her off her memory,
‘Twas her older sister who told me the story.
I was told that their mother had abandoned them,
Taken off to explore and lace her garment's helm.
I was told she faced her work burying motherhood,
This in the end took its toll on her and her mood.
August 27, 2022.
I followed the road across the plain
Looking to hunt him down again
Up ahead there was a roadside tavern
Inside of which gathered a witch’s coven
The old hags were wary of my call
And looked suspiciously at my footfall
One spoke up in a craggy voice inquiring
As the others whispered together all conspiring
I told them I was looking for the dark man
And they said they had seen him in an earlier stand
Where he had demanded a potion to bind his wounds
They had complied and the man had regained health very soon
But I did not see one of them cast a spell
As the room changed and over I fell
Next a black panther crouched and looked at me
And I fought it to death in a power play to see
Then I saw the witches through the misty shade broke
I pounced on them with my blade to the one who spoke
Demanding them all to yield to me or they would find my blade
And they cowered away from me crying mercy for mercy made
They confessed to seeing the dark man the previous fore-noon then
He had left taking a potion paying with a silver coin at the agreement’s end
I searched their tavern leaving with a green cat’s eye amulet
To use or to barter as I pursued the dark man on the path as it was set.
© Paul Warren Poetry