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Challenge: Take a well-known figure from history or literature and insert him or her into a modern-day situation. Choose any form. Choose any mood. I hope you enjoy my example below. I hope you have as much fun creating your poem as I had composing mine.

—Susan Jarvis Bryant

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Henry VIII at The Dancing Ferret,
Circa Last Friday

He swept in for a swift and sumptuous lunch
With feather-capped and ermine-edged panache.
He’d had a sudden savage urge to munch—
To eat a beast-size feast—to dine then dash.
He nuzzled and he squeezed his comely queen
Who kept her head when hubby grew obscene.

His stomach growled for spit-roast, fig-fed pig
Stuffed with tubby ducks and half a calf,
A butter-battered swan glazed with a swig
Of bramble brew. He bellowed for the staff
To sate his appetite with meaty fare
Commencing with a pheasant and a hare.

The barman recommended kale panini
Infused with flair so vegan-friendly fresh
It topped the Pickled Parrot’s bean linguini,
And by the way, the tavern served no flesh.
Right then a keg of booze and bile spilled—
The chef was soaked in amber ale and grilled.

.

.

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39 Responses

  1. Roy Eugene Peterson

    Susan, your incomparable humorous poem certainly sets the tone! If we can even come up with half as good and witty, we will call ourselves fortunate.

    Reply
    • Susan Jarvis Bryant

      Thank you very much, jd. I’m glad you liked it. I agree – that final line is rather nasty – in keeping with one of England’s naughtiest kings.

      Reply
  3. Roy Eugene Peterson

    ROY ROGERS DROVE A PINTO
    By Roy E. Peterson (April 4, 2025)

    Roy Rogers drove a Pinto painted palomino gold.
    It had a hundred horses, although it was growing old.
    He traded for a Mustang when the Pinto fell apart.
    It seems the Pinto failed him, and the engine wouldn’t start.

    Reply
    • Mike Bryant

      Hey Roy, I love this reminiscence of Roy Rogers. I never missed his show. I just found out that he died in ‘98 so it’s possible that he really did drive those cars! Love it…

      Reply
      • Roy Eugene Peterson

        Mike, I had no idea Roy Rogers died in 1998. I thought he was gone by the 1960’s. Thank you for sharing that with me.

    • Susan Jarvis Bryant

      Great stuff, Roy! I especially love the alliterative opening line!

      Reply
  4. Roy Eugene Peterson

    CAPTAIN MORGAN IS A BUCCANEER
    By Roy E. Peterson (April 4, 2025)

    Captain Morgan is a buccaneer
    ___who lives in Tampa Bay.
    He loves to drink rum named for him
    ___and pretty women at play.
    He loves to view their treasured chests.
    ___He thinks it is his duty.
    When he gets lonely late at night,
    ___he pays gold for their booty.

    Reply
  5. Mark Stellinga

    Cool project, Susan – here’s a Wyatt Earp-er of sorts –

    HEADLINE – ‘Earp Jails Nasty-Jack For Vandalism’

    Billy Bob and Betty Bob was guzzlin’ hooch at ‘Rusty’s’
    when a dude the size o’ Uruguay come thunderin’ through the door.
    He made his way to the slot machines – obviously mad as hell –
    and picked one up above his head an’ slammed it to the floor!

    Curly, the barkeep… lookin’ like he’d pret’ near filled his shorts…
    grabbed himself a double-barrel an’ shouted — “Put that back!”
    Right ’bout then a customer — figurin’ he didn’t know —
    tried to warn him… “Careful, Curly… that there’s – ‘Nasty-Jack’!”

    Nasty Jack was a legendary rattlesnake from Yuma.
    There weren’t no one for miles around that dared to cross this dude.
    A walkin’ pile o’ filthy talk that’d make a sailor blush —
    and, rumor had it – believe it or not — he swallered what he chewed!!

    Well, the slot machine weren’t hurt the least, but – starin’ down the barkeep, Jack done figured — fightin’ a shotgun ain’t no small affair!
    But not the sort to give up easy, “Lookie here,” he roared —
    “that damn ‘one-armed-bandit’ is a thief… an’ I don’t care

    “If you, or any other fool — double-barrel or not —
    figures I ain’t got the right fer gittin’ back what’s mine!
    That there slot, I swear, has stole near half o’ what I’ve earned
    robbin’ banks – cheatin’ at cards – an’ sellin’ homemade shine!”

    Then raisin’ it up above his head to slam it down again –
    “Come on, Curly, gimme a break,” the ornery sucker whined,
    When… all of a sudden… seein’ the crowd racin’ outta Rusty’s –
    (plus bein’ the place that he, an’ brother Virgil, often dined) –

    Marshall Earp come crashin’ in an’ quickly seen the reason.
    “Listen up, Muldoon,” he roared… “what the hell ya’ doin?
    You ain’t got no business tryin’ to bust up that machine
    considerin’ all the people that – for ages – you’ve been screwin’!

    “Now… set it down real easy like and turn and face the wall,
    ‘cause standin’ up – or layin’ down – I’m haulin’ your ass in!
    Every dime you’ve fed that thing was made by doin’ crime,
    and you’re – without a doubt – the biggest crook there’s ever been!”

    Reply
      • Mark Stellinga

        And Marshall Dillon, Bat Masterson, the Lone Ranger, Sugar Foot, Palladin, all the Cartwrights, the Big Valley boys, Joe Friday & Bill Gannon – even Elliot Ness, to name a few others, and virtually any Jim Rockford or Dirty Harry clone. Thanks, Mike

  6. Joseph S. Salemi

    Henry VIII at a vegan restaurant? What a wild concept, Susan! For once I am thoroughly pleased by the King’s savage response when he doesn’t get his way.

    Reply
    • Susan Jarvis Bryant

      It was a tossup between, Henry down the local pub, Cleopatra in Walmart’s, and Lady Macbeth at the laundromat. The meat-eating regal beast won!

      Reply
  7. Joseph S. Salemi

    This one is not quite “anachro-” but it does deal with a modern-day situation.

    Hillary Clinton Becomes a Trannie

    My husband says I’m tough as nails,
    My tantrums are like squalls —
    They say I’ve got testosterone,
    So why not get the balls?

    If I were male, my enemies
    Would say that I’m a prick —
    Well, why not make the language match
    And get myself a dick?

    I think I’ll schedule surgery
    To lop off these two tits —
    I’ll build my upper-body strength
    And work out with the mitts.

    A crew-cut and some dungarees,
    A pair of hiking boots,
    And I can swagger down the street
    With all the big galoots.

    I’ll chug-a-lug a stein of beer,
    I’ll do pushups and curls —
    And nobody will ever know
    That I belong with girls.

    And though I never got to be
    The first damned female Prez —
    At least the world won’t take me for
    Some floral-scented lez.

    Reply
    • Mike Bryant

      Then she could make many other fortunes in male dominated sports! She might not win on the field… at least at first, but I’m pretty sure she would eventually be the best at every male sport around!

      Reply
    • Cynthia Erlandson

      Wow, you really went for it, Joseph! Hilarious, indeed!

      Reply
  8. Roy Eugene Peterson

    MY FRIEND, THE BARD
    By Roy E. Peterson (April 4, 2025)

    My good friend is a poet
    ___and a great playwriter too.
    He writes about my hamlet
    ___and what people there may do.

    One of his greatest hits is of
    ___a peeper named King Lear.
    Perhaps you have guessed my good friends name.
    ___It is Will Shakespeare.

    Will likes to write love sonnets.
    It’s what he spends his days on.
    He also sells cosmetics.
    He’s called the Bard of Avon.

    Reply
    • Susan Jarvis Bryant

      Roy, after this delightful piece of quirk, I will never be able to refer to dear old Will as the Bard of Avon without imagining him in a lick of mascara and lipstick. Thank you!

      Reply
  9. Brian Yapko

    Excellent poem, Susan! So funny! Here is my anachro contribution:

    WALT DISNEY WATCHES THE NEW “SNOW WHITE”

    What wicked curse has brought me to this age —
    To see the studio which bears my name
    Become a source of angry, leftist rage,
    Abusive of my good intent and fame!
    How come I here to 2025?
    Some evil spell was cast to halt my rest
    And force me to see Snow White come alive
    But with no soul — like Frankenstein depressed.

    Forgive me but I must say things unkind –
    Untalented producers now get rich
    On my ideas — but loathsome, coarse and blind.
    And who in hell’s this Rachel Zegler bitch?
    This spoiled, angry actress who’s miscast,
    Who hates this tale, who hates the color white
    Who calls “true love” a relic of the past,
    And turns my world of magic into blight!

    A nightmare has been crafted from my dreams!
    My name now stands for social engineers
    Devoid of innocence but strong on schemes
    To play on prejudices, hates and fears.
    What is this need to turn white into black,
    And blemish magic fairy-light with dapples?
    That’s it! Call Props and tell them Walt is back.
    We’re going to need a lot more poison apples!

    :

    Reply
    • Mike Bryant

      Mannnnn, Brian, VERY FUNNY… and I’m sure exactly what Walt would do.

      Reply
    • Susan Jarvis Bryant

      Brian, this is a tour de force of a challenge entry – spot on satire that packs a poison-apple punch. What more could I ask for? Thank you!

      Reply
    • Joseph S. Salemi

      Brian, word is that Zegler’s “Snow White” is a box-office disaster, and one consequence is that the Disney studio has “paused” (i.e. postponed) all work on their proposed live-action remake of the Rapunzel story, because they are scared that it will be another left-liberal woke flop. If they’re smart, they’ll chuck all the script and shooting that ‘s been done so far on the Rapunzel project, and do something sane to create a popular film.

      But my bet is that they won’t. The company is jackrabbit terrified of its employees and creative staff, the great majority of whom are brainless and fanatical left-liberals.

      When will American corporations finally realize that PERSONNEL IS POLICY?

      Reply
  10. Susan Jarvis Bryant

    I couldn’t resist writing one more in a satirical vein. I’ve had to alter the format to fit the poem in the comments box. I hope it makes you laugh… then hand wring:

    Story Time with Caligula

    He flounced in fierce and frilly
    at the library’s request
    in sheerest silken threads
    of purple hue.
    His frock had failed to veil his tail –
    he sailed in underdressed
    revealing more than tots
    are wont to view.

    With kohl-rimmed eyes a-roving
    and a blush of neon rose,
    in satin slippers
    decked with pearls of pink,
    with swirls of curls cascading
    from his laurel crown to toes,
    this emperor gave kids
    a skittish wink.

    Bluebeard was the story
    on that torrid afternoon.
    It rang with naked fervor
    smeared with smut.
    The rainbow rabble reveled
    in the louche lips of a loon.
    The history buffs
    prayed story time was cut.

    Reply
    • Mark Stellinga

      Hard to beat this one, Susan – though there are several excellent entries. Thanks for the challenge – 🙂

      Reply
    • Roy Eugene Peterson

      You really fit Caligula perfectly from the past into this modern depraved world. Brian’s historical note was horrifying.

      Reply
    • Joseph S. Salemi

      Ha! The Emperor Caligula was one helluva piece of work, to be sure. He was cruel, murderous, and probably insane. Re-imagining him as some drag queen holding a story hour in a modern schoolroom is an inspired idea — funny, but also scary.

      Reply
  11. Brian Yapko

    To present a depraved Roman Emperor reading stories to children is inspired, Susan! There’s an interesting historical resonance here because Caligula was raised by his Great Uncle Tiberius who was a rather noteworthy pedophile. I don’t know if Caligula was as well, but it was rumored (if unproven) that Tiberius and his much younger charge Caligula had incestuous relations. Tiberius liked to swim in his pool in Capri and have very young children swim about him and between his thighs attending to his pleasures. He called them his “little minnows.” I was reminded of those poor “little minnows” when I read your poem.

    Reply
  12. Mia

    Dear Susan , Thank you for this
    challenge. I have had fun reading your excellent poem and all the worthy contributions
    But what a difficult challenge! the best I could do is the following

    Alors, je suis la, mon amie,
    Marie Antoinette, Queen,

    To think I have been viewed with hate,
    A figure of derision, a frivolous fake
    For an innocent remark made in good faith.

    If they have no bread, let them eat cake,
    Alors, what is wrong with that
    Offering an alternative until the crisis passed.

    Look at them now! Stuffing their face,
    Given bugs to eat, all without trace,
    With lashings of monosodium glutamate.

    Are there revolutions, or madame guillotine,
    Non! Unbelievably, I lost my head with this !
    Why? Cherchez Moi! Merci.

    Non, they are as docile as petite lap -dogs,
    Only large , to keep them happy and rotund,
    Fed on sugar and on lard.

    Mon Amie, what is that if not cake!
    Voila! I have been vindicated. Make no mistake,
    Now I deserve my place in history
    Revised, n’est-ce pas!

    Reply
    • Susan Jarvis Bryant

      Mia, thank you very much for this inspired poem. I love the smattering of French throughout to add to the atmosphere. Marie Antoinette’s story has always saddened and intrigued me. You capture the very essence of her character here. Thank you!

      Reply
      • Mia

        Thank you Susan and thank you Mike. I really appreciate all your help and encouragement.

  13. Julian D. Woodruff

    I don’t know that I’ll have the time (and not sure I have the imagination!) to answer Susa’s challenge, but thank you to those who did so, especially Roy. Roy, yours are worthy of Nash, Mercer, and Gilbert at their best.

    Reply
  14. Julian D. Woodruff

    After all …
    “Doc” Martin’s still with us, now how can that be?
    It seems she dropped in from the last century,
    or even the one before that, I dare say.
    Oh, what must she think of our doings today?
    She’d make Edith Wharton such fine company,
    discussing New Yorkers on some balcony,
    o’erlooking the Hudson or maybe the Seine,
    lamenting the state of things (even back then!).
    Her views, from the page, couched in skilled understatement,
    her word’s often one of incisive beratement.
    It’s needed, she’s given it. Fly high the banners,
    you brides, boorish, grooms, overstressed wedding planners,
    for etiquette’s doyenne, our decorous Miss Manners.

    Reply
    • Susan Jarvis Bryant

      Julian, I’m so glad you had the time to join in with this gem. One of my pet peeves is rudeness and you deal with subject of etiquette superbly with your beautifully conceived piece. Thank you!

      Reply

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