Best Saga Poems
Along the baseboard in a small kitchen
there is a tiny hole, the perfect size to go
unnoticed, perfect for a secret hideaway.
Little twin girls imprisoned at the table
not allowed to leave unless those cold
olive green peas are completely gone!
Canned peas, that had a bit of the flavor
of the tin can infused into them, pushed
around the plate in a marble shoot.
When is she going to leave the kitchen,
quit watching, stop repeating, "eat every one!"
Salty tears dropping on the plate, incapable
of adding any flavor as an hour passes and
little heads are laying on the table beside
the plate with those cursed tiny vegetables
staring back with their small green eyes.
She has to take a trip to the toilet, this must
be timed just right...half the peas leave the plates
and are scooted into the tiny hole in the wall.
She returns, unaware of the subterfuge.
Admonishment causes more tears and little
voices pleading, "they're almost gone". "Not good
enough, finish them or you stay here all night!"
A guardian angel makes the phone ring and she
leaves to answer it. Two little girl's plates quickly
converge upon the tiny hole that gobbles up the
last of those dreaded cold green peas.
She returns and the ordeal is finally over, with
her none the wiser, until a few weeks pass and
she keeps trying to find the smelly odor coming
from the kitchen. She follows her nose to the
secret hideaway exposing the rotted peas.
Infuriation welds up within and then out comes
the razor strap and a painful dance ensues.
© Connie Marcum Wong
Colorado Cowboy Saga
Grandad became a cowboy,
Though born in the mountains of Tennessee,
His family moved to Colorado –
Just when he turned three;
Fleeing from the Civil War’s animosity
Traveled in a wagon ‘cross the wide prairies
Four brothers taught the youngest child
How to ride and brand
How to feed the cattle
How to take a stand
How to rope, how to ranch
And care for the land
He grew up tall and strong
Like the mountains of his heartbeat
In winter and in summer
They called his restless feet
And Grandad knew the mountains
Like city kids know streets
And with his pinto pony
Rode the mail every day
Nederland to Central City
Oh, he knew the way –
Sometimes frozen in the saddle
For warm weather he prayed.
Drove the cows to Denver
From high country fields
With sharp whistles and with yells
He stayed on the cattle’s heels
Through the cut at Boulder
For the sweet autumn grass revealed
When I was a little girl
On grandad’s lap I’d sit
He’d tell me of his boyhood
Cowboy tales true grit
How he loved his cowboy life
Maybe he fudged a bit?
The city was my birthplace
I knew and loved it well
But in my heart grandad planted
A cowboy song to tell
Though he dreamed of bustling cities
His heart bewitched by a cowboy spell.
True story.
Even though my grandfather became an entrepreneur, he never forgot his childhood as a cowboy in the mountains and prairies of Colorado.
1-31-21
Contest: Cowboy Poetry
Sponsor: Line Gauthier
The aperture was small, but drew me in;
I saw the rumored 'saga' I had heard
attest to the temerity within
that so surpassed the sadness told by word.
Tied up with rope and fastened to a pole
with barren soil and stones his only bed;
and there, so out of reach, a rusted bowl
next to a soggy, molded piece of bread.
His sullen eyes lacked nuance in his stare;
proclivity for self-salvation gone...
no marrow left to counter his despair.
But then, he heard my voice and he was drawn
to stand up tall...tail wagging to and fro...
for 'man's best friend', new hope did overflow!
November 5, 2018
~4th Place~
Contest: Eight-Word Challenge - 9
Sponsor: John Hamilton
Judged: 11/27/2018
Required words used in order of appearance:
aperture saga attest temerity
barren nuance proclivity marrow
~Honorable Mention~
Contest: 400, Any Rhyme - Max Of 14 Lines,
Sponsor: Brian Strand
Judged: 06/01/2019
WRITING THE SAGA OF LOVE
Long time ago on the eve of a memorable New Year
we met while you lay on the dewed grass of meadow.
The soft sun shone on the noon sky, spotless clear,
your face glimmered, I could only say,‘wow’.
I saw the crimson roses peep at you in envy
for your supple cheeks couldn’t be redder.
In your eye dreams of our future I could see,
you haven’t gone since then out of my radar.
Our long journey began from the top spot of bliss,
we shared happily whatever from life we did get.
The tenet of togetherness we had never taken amiss
for we haven’t finished writing sagas of our love yet.
May 7, 2018.
Season-1: Graving Ourselves
We are graving ourselves in the middle of the trail,
Breathing smoke as air, skeletons block our way.
this path is ours, ash as rose on the floor.
This moon is too close to us burning our own sights.
These stars are blind in the middle of the night.
Our hearts are too wild to be graved,
Let them be blind, we can find our own way.
I can help you cross the floor and breathe this smoke,
Let them be close, I will reflect the sight on the floor.
Season-2 : We Were Playing
We called those stars blind
but they helped us hide in light.
We cloaked ourselves in quiet, and the moon belived the lie.
They saw us breathing smoke,
The soil, like saviour, gave us hope!
This grave is Deepo, smiling at us
like he wants to keep us in touch.
A mirror as our pawn on the floor,
Protecting us from the skeleton store.
It made them look — no place to hide.
Their faces burned in their own sight,
And the moon, once clever,
now burns with them.
Now we are in Deepo,
watching for an opening window.
A window where pluto sings- love unhexed,
in moonless light.
Fireworks are rising, feeling ignite,
We survived, just to scream — I love you tonight.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Press one for eternal sunshine, two to speak
with a representative currently buried under
three feet of seasonal despair. All other options
have been disconnected due to icy conditions.
Your call is important to us—please hold
through blizzards, black ice, and the existential
dread of winter.
Your estimated wait time:
until lilies break the thaw.
We apologize for the delay,
but spring’s already listening.
The puffs of air came and went bubbling
Happily putting on the exhaust on high
Running like hell to the outhouse saying bye
The civilization of Egypt is a mystery,
But what I love the most is their incredible history,
It starts with Amun Ra, the god of sun;
Who was Khepri in the morning when he rolled in mud and had fun;
But he became Khnum the ram in the evening.
And this is just the beginning.
There was the god of wind- Shu,
Whose daughter was Nut, striped and blue,
She was the goddess of sky,
Whose love for Geb, the earth, would never die.
They had two sons, Set and Osiris,
And two daughters - Nephthys and Isis.
Osiris became the Pharaoh to solve his kingdom’s crisis,
And married his sister, Isis.
Set was the god of desert sand,
And chaos and Ra’s left hand.
Nephthys became the goddess of darkness, decay and death.
As the pharaoh’s protector, she killed his enemies with her fiery breathe;
Isis was very magical,
Who made Ra’s condition critical;
By creating Apophis a snake,
To defeat whom was not a piece of cake.
Horus was the son of Osiris and Isis
Meanwhile Nephthys and Set had a son Anubis.
Then there was Thoth who was a rage,
Among the Egyptians for being the God of knowledge.
Like Ra, there was also a god of moon,
Khonsu, who could delay the noon.
The scorpions had a goddess- Serqet,
While the vultures had Nekhbet,
The cats worshipped Bastet,
Meanwhile the lions had Sekhmet,
The frogs loved Heket,
While the hippos had Tawaret.
There were many Gods and Goddesses.
Like Gengen-Wer, Hapi, Sobek and Bes.
Of which, the dwarves loved Bes the best.
While Heket loved Onuris from the rest.
The geese loved Gengen-Wer.
And Horus became the God of war.
There are many, whom I don’t know,
Yet we feel their majestic halo.
-Ananya Mallik
There was a Red Indian Chief
his name was Raging Waters
he lived a pleasant life
surrounded by his four wives
They took care of all his needs
gave him strong sons and daughters
he ruled mainly in peace not war
apart from raids on the Black Hawks
It was one of his joys to sneak up
and steal their very fine horses
and to capture some of their squaws
these he could trade for guns and whiskey
As time went on he grew very troubled
he consulted with the medicine man
who sent him to the hot bath teepee
there smoking his pipe he relaxed
Soon the visions started to appear
war was on the horizon he could see
also a squaw so comely he lost his heart
he left the teepee and sent out scouts
They scoured the lands searching for her
at last one came back with the news
she belonged to the Crows and was promised
gathering up a raiding party, he set off
At dead of night they sneaked into position
then rushed the camp catching the Crows off guard
they killed the warriors and took the squaws,
children and horses too and well tanned hides
Now there had to be a comeback from this deed
Mighty Hawk gathered his tribes of Crows
and set off for Raging Waters camp for revenge
barely escaping he fled for the mountains
There with just a handful of warriors and squaws
he set out to build up the tribe once more
when at last they had enough warriors
he set out to recapture that beautiful squaw
Never had he forgotten her soft lips on his
driven wild by his desire, he lost all caution
warned by his medicine man it would end badly
he paid no heed and set out to make war
The Crows soon heard he was on his way
and set a terrible trap in between the hills
Raging Waters and his warriors were cut down
the unlucky ones were scalped then given to the squaws
Who beat them and treated them harshly as slaves
thus a lesson was learned do not take promised squaws
Raging Waters name was in time lost in the annuals
his tribe no more, just forgotten ghosts in time
inspired by soup mail chat with Sandra
Were
these
blacksmith,
goliaths-
all eye & no brain
What happens when your only way out is so final, yet so beautiful?
When the only one you've got is your captor, your abuser?
When your chance at a legitimate escape is too far away, when you’ve just got to get away now?
I’ll tell you what happens:
You get a little crazy, a little careless.
You can’t remember all of the people who care for you, the ones who would miss you.
You get selfish.
You can’t see what causes it, so you can’t fix it… this dysfunction.
You know you can’t just change it, because you’re not the only one involved.
So… You run.
The first chance you get, you run.
But there’s no where to go.
You know they’ll come.
You know they’ll find you.
So, you run.
Just until you find a beautiful space.
It’s so beautiful, it might already be heaven.
You’ll find out soon.
It’s a beautiful cliff.
Maybe they’ll think you fell.
It doesn't matter.
Don’t leave a note;
Let them think what they will.
Jump.
Now’s your chance.
Hear them coming?
They’re closing in.
Quick!
Before they catch you.
This is your last chance to escape.
Jump.
It won’t hurt once you've hit the bottom.
It can’t be any worse than everyday.
Do it now,
Before there’s anymore pain.
Don’t start thinking.
They’ll get over you.
Move on without you.
Jump.
Before it’s too late again.
Just jump.
Nothing will ever hurt again.
Quick!
Do it quick!
Jump.
… Just Jump.
*This is the end of a tortured life.*
Turns out…
The bad guys win.
…………
Luke was building a tree house
He was building it all by himself
A rusty old hammer, several bent nails
And wood that used to be someone’s shelf
We could all hear Luke working so hard
Hammering and sawing away
He was such a busy little bee
He didn’t even have time to play
He’d get the job half completed
Then it would all just fall apart
But he’d just pick up the pieces and start again
The kid certainly does have heart
Finally the tree house was finished
Luke was as proud and as happy as could be
He’d done a good job, but there was something missing
And unfortunately that was the tree.
But Luke shouldn't get too upset
Shouldn't let it get to his head
He may not have made a tree house
But he had made a lovely shed.
Limerick crochet: The Saga of Sea Anne-Anne
Once the Captain of the good ship Anne-Anne
Took to the waves to conquer the main.
Slept round the clock mid-ship
Towed his women aft-ship:
Yet women and ship turned on him in pain.
The Flying Oarsman won America gain
And tamed the raging waters Sea Anne-Anne.
One cup he never won
Was the Darling fourth one:
A touching tale this: the tears shed by Jane!
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2013
The “Saga” of the Lonely Cactus
by Miriam McCue
Introduction:
:
Characters in order of appearance:
Lonely Cactus: He is a 6 foot Saguaro cactus with two arms (kind that looks like a man from
a distance.) (In real life these cacti have to be around 75 years old to get an arm.)
Kieran - My granddaughter
Aunt Mikey - My youngest daughter
Alphabet City - Part of the Lower East Side of NYC
Desert - This refers to desert surrounding Phoenix AZ
Manhattan - Name for the island of NYC, not including Brooklyn, Queens, etc.
Super - Nickname for the superintendent of a tenement or apartment building.
Assorted city street characters - Anonymous
Greenwich Village - West of the Lower East Side NYC
Lower East Side - Part of NYC ( name of it describes where it is)
Alphabet City - Part of the Lower East Side of NYC
Assorted city street characters - Anonymous
Central Park - Large man-made park in Center of NYC
Big Apple - Nickname for NYC
U.P.S - A delivery service (In poem pronounced by letters, no as “up sss” )
Casino - We all know what that is.
Donald Trump - Famous prominent business man
The Story of Adam and Eve
Is all well and good and fine,
It marks the frailties of each sex
Without really trying.
First of all it shows the Love of our Creator,
The One, the Good, the True, the Beautiful,
And the deviousness of the Hater.
Antithesis of Love and Justice; a traitor.
The story of Adam and Eve
Is all well and good and fine.
It marks the frailties of each sex
Without really trying.
In our selfish disobedience
we are the very same today,
In our sinful expedience
to get our own way.
Adam was created first,
the woman as an ad lib.
Because Adam was lonely for his own kind
God formed her from his rib.
Well, they were doing just fine
Until one day the serpent said “Eve
You want to be like God, I believe.”
She said yes that would be fine.
So she gave Adam a tempting plausible line,
And he apathetically joined in the sinful crime.
Didn’t want to make any waves, you know,
After all he had his seeds to sow.
And so we see how they fared
Still, woman always shooting for control
The man timid and scared.
The snake laughing in his hole.
So men, before you succumb to so called feminists
and both sexes spend eternity crying…
Remember, ..God only gave her your rib…
so please,.. take back your spine.