Long Hellion Poems
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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!
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.
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Chantelle Anne Cooke
01-09-2021
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
Bronwyn the Barbaric amassed admirers
like oceans collect river-flow
Streams of suitors all tried to woo her
each determined to be her “best beau”
But our fair pirate queen was a fickle young lass
whose attention was hard to retain
She'd have no truck whatever with crude fellows crass
insisting they possess “half a brain”
She longed for a man both witty and charming
dressed rakishly jaunty and vogue
With manners debonair and smile disarming
('though a bit of a rascally rogue)
Few chaps could achieve these high standards, indeed
yet, one day she met him- and he did!
He was dashing, all agreed, on his wild stallion steed
a sight to behold- resplendent!
And Bronwyn herself, couldn't help but admire
this arrogant, haughty young blaggard
by the name of Beauregard Brody, Esquire
how he bragged, and blustered, and swaggered!
Sailing into his arms, Bronwyn swooned straight away
and they would've composed quite a pair
if only her dog hadn't got in the way
of their breathless and heated affair
Bronwyn's sidekick was a pup quite precocious
all beautifully soft, plush and furry
but she was surprisingly fierce and ferocious
sending most people off in a hurry
Yes, Hellion was a marvelous part-Husky pooch
with one eye brown, and one blue
who took great offense at each intimate smooch
with each snuggle, her distrust grew
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.
A cascade of blood
flowed down the steps,
but the swish of the sword
hadn’t finished yet
Cutting through sinew
bones and veins,
torturing men
faceless no-names
Dripping in blood
and bellowing in lust,
a man with no fear
low sight for the just
Pillaging villages
putting heads on spikes,
raging with evil
with hatred he strikes
Riding through deserts
with bones all around,
these are his leavings
on the roadside are found
A warning to others
don’t knock on this door,
or your head may end up
rolling the floor
Mounting his hellion
he rides the wind,
a horrible form
eyes shine with sin
This evil does travel
and may gallop through town,
bolt your doors
and keep your head down
All through the ages
this evil floods,
gushing through streets
as rivers of blood
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
He was big and he was tough
Sort of primitive and hairy
On first encounter his face
Was frankly somewhat scary
He could .fight and he could cuss
Run a marathon without dropping
And when he got his dander up
Boy he really took some stopping
He could swim and swim for hours
Using the crawl and the dog paddle
But nobody dare ever ask him why
He rode his Hog side saddle
He was the leader of his gang
Unchallenged year by year
His visage and his bearing
Inspiring loyalty and fear
He could quiet a room
In his suit of blackest leather
And he never wore head gear
Regardless of the weather
But he could still draw glances
When he led the pack on a ride
‘cos he did look rather strange
With both legs on one side
He fell in love eventually
Suddenly and rather hard
With a biker babe he’d met
In a bike wrecker’s yard
She was blonde and she was pretty
And boy she really caught him
So much about love and life
She very quickly taught him
And she put her foot down quickly
Insisted he start to lead the rides
On his big Harley Hog
With one leg either side
She set about with determination
To change every aspect of his life
Until he finally succumbed and she
Became his one and only loving wife
And he put his Hog away
Shaved and combed his hair
And his gang suddenly felt
Very unwelcome there
But she couldn’t totally tame
This one time Angel Hellion
He rode side saddle now and then
Just as an act rebellion
I ran across him years later
Still big but not quite so hairy
But over scones and tea
Didn’t seem quite so scary
I asked him about his riding style
Why’d he mount his Hog that way
He grinned and looked evasive
Made me swear not to say
Then he told me his great secret
Which I did find rather absurd
I’d love to tell but I swore my oath
And I’m a man who keeps his word
Shay was her best friend whom she wanted to save
Because she saw a horrible purple bruise.
Felt there was something wrong since she married Dave.
Went to her friend’s family; thought it would be news.
They told her worse stories. Her friend had been beaten up.
Refused to press charges. Went back twice already.
What about the child? She asked. What about the pup?
Pup was long gone. Baby too young to beat -name of Freddy.
Dave moved her far far away and isolated her on a farm with cow.
She forbid them to speak of him and never brought the baby.
They tried to get her to listen to reason, but she was brain washed now.
When asked to bring the baby, she always looked down and said “maybe”.
Bruises became broken bones, then a hammer to her head.
He did not stop until she was now and forever after dead.
The family petitioned the courts to let them see her baby Freddy.
He was a little hellion; mean as hops, and fighting at the ready.
He never knew his wonderful mom, the one she was before.
He never realized she was against hating, killing and more.
Raised by her parents from age two to five then given back to his Dad.
Who got out of prison after three, that horrible control freak cad.
We knew him as a sweet, touching, darling boy who had his mother’s eyes.
In prison now, a psychopath, one who has murdered six women.
No surprise to the cops who listened until he confessed with deep cries.
He went to heaven yesterday, some hope he will be forgiven.
To Hellie's credit, she had rightly judged...
for, all told- the young man was quite shady
so from her guard-post she would not be budged
for she was most loyal to her lady
And when he cooed and whined to survey
Bronwyn's hide-out with treasures galore
(and blinded by love, the lady obeyed)
Hellie let out a terrible roar!
Before he could pilfer a single rare item
our Hellie put Beau on the run
snapping and snarling, she'd viciously bite him
her fun had only begun
He squealed sissy screams and kicked out at her
but she got the better of him
he called her a “hideous, scurrilous cur”
she pursued him with vigor and vim
Rapidly round all the high piles of loot
she chased him with eyes bright and shiny
while he scuffled (and occasionally gave her the boot)
and she snapped at his delicate hiney
At length, he shot out of the mouth of the cave
in a desperate dash to break free
but he'd nowhere to go- and wasn't quite brave
so he threw himself into the sea
As Bronwyn looked down with an irritated frown
(she was actually becoming quite peeved)
old Hellion beamed up, and drooled on her gown
her ultimate mission achieved
Her lady turned to face her, and warmly embraced her
while Hellie soaked it up with a smirk
soft fingers stroking and fluffing her fur
for dispatching the devious jerk
They spied the poor devil as he met his sad fate-
and they watched from their perch high above
a bold pirate queen and her canine first mate
the next-best thing to true love!
____
This is the swashbuckling sequel to my "Barefoot Buccaneer" poem... ;D