Helene, you stormed through Appalachian way
from the gulf coast,
you brought a merciless wrath,
a hurricane in the early autumnal mountains.
Mudslides, flooding, high winds, driving rain,
helpless people swept away.
You had fierce scorn,
you screamed and rattled our windows.
A hellion of force,
Blue Ridge recovery,
slow, but hopeful.
Weeping as the waters recede.
Some loss of lives, some missing.
Homes destroyed,
the abiding Lord,
His presence is here,
as many of His local churches are feeding people.
Under October sun, we gather again. ~
Oh no, Tokoloshe is coming for me.
I don’t want to die.
Oh, my God, I better flee.
I’ll hide behind the Suonoki tree.
The vicious predator won’t find me with his evil eye.
Oh no, Tokoloshe is coming for me.
There is no one to rescue me; I can see.
Inside the underground catacomb will terrify.
Oh, my God, I better flee.
Through the skeleton headwalls of his enemy,
Tokoloshe will devour me, but why?
Oh no, Tokoloshe is coming for me.
The hellion has come to collect his fee.
On that, I can rely.
Oh, my God, I better flee.
Oh dear, Tokoloshe, don’t kill me, I plea.
I want to live, I cry.
Oh no, Tokoloshe is coming for me.
Oh, my God, I better flee.
Purple hellion heard them coming, so he was quiet as he ate.
He could tell by their chatter, they were outside his caveman gate.
He stopped slurping his Thanksgiving feast, listening for their feet.
Sammy said, “I will check and see if PH is ready to greet”.
Sammy, a green unicorn always finds good in everyone.
Best of all, he laughs at Purple’s jokes, and they have lots of fun.
But who is the interloper? Hellion listened, without sound.
“Yoo hoo!” called Sammy. “Is there a dragon anywhere around?”
I will not share my feast! PH thought, angry at company.
I brought someone to visit you, Sammy said. Do you have blue tea?
Mama! Purple yelled out, so glad to see his Mom. What a great surprise!
She was carrying two baskets full of his favorite meat pies!
They generously invited Sammy to partake in feast and stay.
But Sammy said “It’s Unicorn fast week,” so I cannot today.
Thank you for showing me the town, and showing me the way.
Purple Hellion was hoping his mama could stay a week and play.
Burglar-exploits of Al-Qaeda and Osama Bin-Laden
Saintly-looking, yet, by Satanic powers crime-ridden
Terror-tied, adventured into frightening the nations
From Los Angels ignited their hellion-operations
triumphed razing the tip of the World Trade Center
Could they, yet, into the united household, forever enter...?
20 September 2022
Remember September Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Andrea Dietrich
In your youth, a bit of a hellion
Septuagenarian, begone rebellion
In midlife, having gone green
Please dismount that stallion
Now as King, let your one cause be
~ Caring for humanity
I sat by the riverbank today and wondered
How long it takes the water to get to the Gulf
Considered things my inquisitive mind ponders
Like what is so enjoyable about playing golf?
Save for an afternoon stroll, I see few merits
Especially since my back has developed kinks
My bag of clubs, the works, my son will inherit
While I spend afternoons catching forty winks.
I sat by the riverbank today and wondered
If those barges ever break loose in rebellion,
[Since their burden is a product plundered],
And run amok like some undisciplined hellion.
I suspect I should beware of my mind adrift
For, at my age, questioning can embarrass,
Although the soothing water gives me a lift
A day like this spent idling is simply fabulous.
BRONZE MEDAL WINNER
Written April 12, 2022
"Anything Goes" Poetry Contest
All Poetry
April 19, 2022
Inner child’s state of rebellion
Forced to endure ballet class
At heart I am complete hellion
Pirouette ended flat on my ass.
Reluctantly wear pink leotard
Scrapped back hair into bun
Out of my depth this is hard
Seems like mother has won.
Competitions are nightmare
Leotard swapped for white tutu
Three judges blank eyes stare
Feet frozen to floor like glue.
Real desire my secret dream
Hold it close to soft young self
Like to be in warm smelly stable
Happily grooming best friend Elf.
Your Inner Child
Poetry Contest
Sponsored
By
Chantelle Anne Cooke
01-09-2021
There are no allegations that
My birthright is of a monster
Nor is there a pretense that I am beast
But one of the brutes
Is hibernating
In the recess of me beneath
The etiquette of a queen
Is to be poised, decent, and unique
But there is a leviathan
That has aspirations to be unleashed
For many decades past and future
This monstrosity continues
Pondering who or what will be
On life’s menu
Please take a step back
I can’t be responsible if there
Is a consequence of a full lethal attack
Read the signs and beware
There is a hellion in my soul
That desires to be disimprisoned
And it’s portentous
Because it’s gasp is only within
A few unsafe measurement of feet
Painting ~ Return of the Prodigal ~ Il Guercino
Returning from the land of my rebellion,
in rags that reek of pigs and sweat and mud.
Now penniless, I’ve been a hell-bent hellion,
wasting the fortune of my flesh and blood.
But now considering my distant father;
how could I dare to think he’ll have me back?
I’ll plead to serve as slave and be no bother;
even his hired workers have no lack.
I journey home rehearsing all I’ve done:
“Father, I’ve sinned against heaven and you –
No longer worthy to be called your son.”
My voice goes numb when home comes into view.
My fears fly when I see my father’s face
and weep in his forgiving, kind embrace.
written 8 Sep 2020
I smiled when the cow had a calf
She was so alive with pleasure
Pregnant for a year and a half
She had the babe at her leisure
For months, she imagined her child
Would it be charming, oh so mild
Or could be full of rebellion
Such a wild and willful hellion
When the cow had a calf, I smiled
So alive with pleasure, she was
For a year and a half, pregnant
At her leisure, she had the babe
It sucked her dry through the night
Keeping her thrilled with her plight
Charonnet Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: charles messina
September 2, 2020
Before my breath touches the morning air,
My thoughts in taciturnity upon suppression of solitudes…
Inhibition initiates interdiction within the hibernal hollow,
Where time a frozen fortress amidst the saturninity still.
The covertness of oblivions obedient in their absolution,
Daunting dorms of doldrums debilitate in their debacle…
Where the vaporous voids echo in their virginal vacuums,
The muted madness mandates the asphyxiated air.
Segregated silent sorrows suffice within my chaotic cage.
Where ignorance incubates immoral idols imposing…
The hellion hordes encroach the silent sentinels standing,
The laconism within my heart erupts with forbidden fury.
The silence sings with thunder as a tear touch’s the ground,
My empty eternal eyes dormant amongst horizons hid…
My mind in a decadent declination before walls of illusions,
And thus before a wounded wake, I am trapped in tangled time.
June.23.2020
Reflection in Silence
Sponsored by~ Silent One
Placed 2'nd...Thank You
We are children of the central sun,
secular seclusiveness becoming none…
Fallen angels in a spiritual spun,
pious partitions of a secretive stun.
Sceptical segregational spores,
seductresses serving as hellion whores…
Innocence infuses pathosis pores,
derelict distemper the syndrome soars.
Evil evoking while delusions dispensing,
forlornness fields fixing finite fencing…
We awaken within solitudes sensing,
freedoms cascading and condensing.
Religions regulate the lesser creeds,
the lamb lies within withered weeds…
Inscrutable imperfections satanic seeds,
diabolical deceptions of demon deeds.
Beware the seditious semisynthetic slayers,
children of the sun banish their betrayers…
Only love levitates the lamenting layers,
upon our hearts amidst pensive prayers.
800,000 children go missing every year in the United States...
50,000 in Canada and many more thousands around the World...
Where is the "Fake News" for that?
April.11.2020
Children of a Lesser God
Sponsored by: Craig Cornish
N/A for Contest
Deciphered deceptions that the summer brings,
As the cathedrals crumble for the corona Kings…
Units ubiquitous unleashed with sweeping strings,
Infectious isolation internal as the contagious clings…
The wounded wander amongst the Hellion hordes,
Where the good battle evil with spiritual swords…
Incurable innocence isolated within their wards,
Inoculable irritations brought by the overlords…
Pestiferous pestilence penetrates through the veil,
Miasmatic megalomaniacs marauding their fail…
Incoherent illusions of their toxicant slaving scale,
For the mephitic wars will end and Love shall prevail.
...stay safe while spreading prayers, peace & love, not the Virus...
March.23.2020
What Matters Most To You
Sponsored by: Chantelle Anne Cooke
Placed 1'st...Thank You
His name was, in fact, March Holman-
The man who was last head of the clan!
The second husband of Miss Ida Fields;
My stepgrandfather sure as redbird trills!
Both generations called him by one name,
Day is the same from dawn to sunset flame.
Grandparents were Mister and Miss to us-
Quaint backwoods custom had dictated thus.
Mister Holman was completely uneducated,
But in rearing a large brood, participated,
Although he was a hard drinkin' hellion,
And a tough, hard livin' son of a gun!
A mighty eagle with a determined red eye,
Without him everything would've gone awry.
When I was only seven and learning to sew,
He taught me a sewing trick I still know.
Back then, golden days were so very young,
Like the memory of the melody just sung,
And he sure must have been a man of flint,
To have left upon time this huge footprint!
Standing at the edge of forever
as one thought leads to hell
for I stare at the empty never
the other to a heavenly dwell
I must choose before the eyes of infinity
my soul torn between the hallucinogen hollow
passing through the vector vicinity
where dreams are created for me to swallow
Seeing visions of a hellion hive
soon thoughts fill with divinities divine
a conspiratorial conscience before I dive
where ambient angels dance and dine
Still I must choose before the end of time
a perplexing panegyrical pantomime.
Sept.16.2019
Crossroads Poetry
Sponsored by: Silent One
Placed 2'nd...Thank You
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