Best Scavenged Poems
On many long, drawn out nights, his routine was to
shuffle aimlessly along dimly lit city streets.
Much of the time, his only companion was a
concealed remnant of cheap bottled wine. He
scavenged for food and money. He would walk
enveloped in deep, weighty shadows and
halo laden street lights. Solitary. Lonely.
Emptiness that few people feel or know.
The raw hollow of an alcoholics tightly
drawn stomach. A gnawing pain that craves
food but will only be quelled when he gets
enough cash for another pint of cheap wine or gin.
Where to spend the night? Maybe with
some of them under the 10th st. bridge.
They may have some money there, or a
blanket to share. Might rummage garbage
containers at the restaurants on the way.
Could walk the parking lot at the grocery store.
There's always change lying on the asphalt.
Could act like he passed out on a city
bench. The police take you to the Detox
Center then. He hated that. Have to stay
72 hours. Guts ache, skin crawls. They
feed you well, but there is always
that craving.
Just keep walking. Frail, vaguely awaren
of hissurroundings as he treks in shadow
andsepia. On 10th, the street lights are so
damned bright they hurt his eyes.
What's that at the bus stop bench
in a brown paper sack?
Two loaves of bread, two wrappers of
bologna, and a luxurious bottle of Gallo
wine tucked in the sack. My God.
Providence at a city bus stop.
Someone boarded the bus and left
their supper. Probably headed for the
homeless shelter overnight.
White bread and meat for one hunger.
Cheap wine for the other.
There might even be some food to share.
Miracle on 10th St.
Categories:
scavenged, loneliness, loss, sick,
Form:
Free verse
Pamphlets of Prophets
And in the barren face of sanity
I scavenged
For hope
Hope between the bleeding
Stain
Full forces littered the bodies
Pamphlets of prophets
In useless streets
Streets paved with dead
Dreams
Burning crosses
Burning flags
The caricatures of hate
Hate in the Holy walls and domes of
Jerusalem
And in the coloured face of madness
I found the ever smile
Of borrowed light
Light in the Holy walls and domes of
Death
Death in weeping children sung its dirge
In the sacrificial arms of
Love
Love ?
What love is there between the ruins of bone and shattered blood
Siren screaming its danger to flesh
This Auschwitz strip
This apocalypse
Is a lament unheeded
Of starved and parchment skeletons
Turning in their graves
Piteous demise of theirs
Wasted
Full forces littered the bodies
Pamphlets of prophets
In useless streets
Categories:
scavenged, war
Form:
Free verse
The howling of the lone gray wolf
His fingerprint sound waves
Reaches out to his alpha female
And to enemies like staves
His hunt unfruitful this night
No ungulates found alive
Few scavenged tidbit pieces
Barely enough to survive
His alpha mate heavy with pups
tucked into the warm den
Hunger gnawed away at her, weak~
dreams of a fat tough hen
Maybe fate would befriend her mate
At least a deer he'll kill
And bring home a lean hind quarter
An empty stomach fill
Sixty days or so the liter carried
Must be many large pups
Maybe four or even seven
Seven pups a deluxe
They'll be delivered just in time
For the deer, elk and moose
To give birth to their fawns~ easy prey
Food source hidden in the spruce
Hunger will recede through the summer
They'll be plenty of game
Maybe at least one pup will survive
To the future lay claim
Contest: Canis Lupus The Wolf
Sponsor: Shadow Hamilton
Written: April 06, 2015
Categories:
scavenged, nature,
Form:
Rhyme
Trodden down and beaten out,
That is me for you and whole of the world.
While inside me I still shout,
"Wait to see my rage unfurled".
Since long have I been messed and marred,
Raped, ravaged, killed and scavenged.
Undaunted still I have dared
To get all those wrongs avenged.
Bearing flogs on bloodstained backs,
With burning tyres around the neck.
So many times those malignant knacks
Have left me shambling, a complete wreck.
Withered soul and parched hopes,
My modesty clad only in tatters.
Around dark corners my soul gropes
To think that all this hardly matters.
You want to know who I am,
And I shall tell you in good time.
I have been robbed from grave to pram,
For neither reason nor rhyme.
When wars were fought and lives were lost,
When men decided these were needs.
My heart was caught in unthawed frost
My being collapsed under those deeds.
Hiroshima could not finish me,
Nor could any bloody apartheid.
I shall stay and forever be
And rise forever from the dead.
Changing world and changing days,
Can only hurt me and hurt me more.
But these can never mend my ways,
For I shall rise in full galore.
The planet sways under your weight,
And nature collapses under your feet.
But I conspire to keep you straight,
And cajole you to a quiet retreat.
Pained I am that you call yourselves human,
And yet carefully deign to forget me.
Yet I shall redeem the bestial and inhuman,
For I am the phoenix called 'HUMANITY'.
Categories:
scavenged, blessing, encouraging, faith, humanity,
Form:
Verse
Holy Georgina
Mother of Regina
Pray for me in this sanctified arena
That I may escape your Hurricane Katrina
With your scintillating fingers around my oesophagus
How do I stop your wind and take a breather?
Maybe it was I that summoned the phoenix
From the ashes,
Granted!
I must have conjured your sleeping affection
And swung you to the realm of suffocating emotion,
Granted!
I must have tilled your wanting dry soil
And sailed you to wonderland with my toil,
Granted!
Yet, have I not evinced a crystal clear intention,
Through my dodging and parrying of your ignition,
That I defy your indiscriminate lucre demand
Or must I be blunt and outrageously spit out my reprimand?
In the morn…
You caressed me with a Circe-like embrace
That I might part with reason and pay your price
But I parried and escaped your cage.
In the noon…
You kissed my lips with the hips of the Sirens
That I might lose myself to your voyage as Odysseus
But I parried and escape your cage.
In the dead of the night…
You romanced my sleep as the trespassing succubus
That I might get scavenged by your nocturnal octopus
But I parried and escaped your cage.
Maybe…
My dangling diggy and the twin pendulum
Together with their fastening frenulum
That has rested in passivity for half a decade
Is the ultimate solace you seek in-between your bushy barricade
That you might rear a seed in my frenzied façade
While I reduce myself to a lifetime of regretful escapade.
Holy Georgina.
Mother of Regina
Pray for me in this sanctified arena
That I may escape your Hurricane Katrina.
Bolaji Ramos
copyright 2017
Categories:
scavenged, addiction, allusion, crush, desire,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
The honesty of kin, childhood, the win
to have it all, the prize, the goal,
a Mother's prayer, the senseless maul,
somewhere within my reach, still small!
The hot wheel, faded, paintless steel
within my hand ~ my heart did feel
my Son, but three or four reveal
his coping, his new life, my teel.
The years, fond scheme, and yet within
this child still reckon with esteem
his choices, hurts, constants begin
my focused art, would still find glean!
Within the sewing basket tucked
amidst the buttons, colors mixed,
this small child's toy, not run amuck
scavenged quixotic Mother's fix!
His heyday, now at fifty-two
amidst the bulging corporate trade,
once tiny, sweet, His eyes of blue
but focused on toy cars parade!
Now oil and gas, a larger trek
all busy, but with time so pressed,
a family home, the still recess
of waiting for their coverage blessed!
From small to big, a child's ingress
resumes from trusting through duress
the simple moments of caress
are chosen monument's suggest!
God keep my courage to arrest
those seaming giant's fouling sport,
that from some innocence' impress
ambition's honesty to test!
Contention's wander, thereby less
the larger goal retreat, reveal
the cost of money brings duress
a childhood's faith, much quieter . . . . real!
Categories:
scavenged, childhood, son,
Form:
Monorhyme
As a talisman around my neck, I wear a glass magnifier.
Now where ever and whenever there is sun, I can make myself a fire
and cook food I have scavenged to kill any harmful bacteria,
or boil water free of all parasites that can cause dysentery and diarrhea,
or for the warmth my body needs to prevent possible hypothermia,
or as protection from any local life threatening wild predators.
As an added precaution I also always carry a disposable lighter,
in case darkness falls upon me before I can make my campfire,
but I only use my disposable lighter very rarely.
because it will run out of fuel eventually
and anytime I need fire when fire can't be
is an official life threatening fire emergency.
You won't have any chance of surviving in the wilderness successfully
if you don't make harnessing Fire your number one priority.
Categories:
scavenged, fire,
Form:
Rhyme
Crawling through the dirt trying to get back to my perch,
where I once sang so free and acted happily
in the sunshine of my life things were really going well.
A fall from broken wings, I fell into the dust,
choking there at first waiting for your help.
But wait was all I did whilst no assistance came my way.
For months I struggled on, surviving day to day,
too proud to beg and borrow I scavenged like a dog.
But soon I found the strength to crawl out from the gutter.
I fought for life, to thrive, avoiding vices in my way
and built a ladder to help me from the pit I'd fallen in.
Now I'm back upon a higher perch than I've ever roosted on.
I'm now singing of success, not striving to get by
and feeling so much stronger for my time down in the dumps.
But for those I met, still there, I save a little prayer.
Categories:
scavenged, hope, strength,
Form:
Free verse
He spent the night seeking the smoke of the lucky
for the things once known:
the warm bed, the place to shower, the cup of hot coffee
and the things unknown.
He wandered deeper into the city where the burdens get heavy.
He found himself on the empty streets that bled their own longing.
For the things once known:
the green or brown bottles, the smell of the boiling tar
from when he was the roofer in the black shoes
drank the cheap wine, wore the pee-soaked pants
scavenged food from the garbage bins
pushed the woven wire shopping carts
from supermarket parking lots
until the wheels fell off in the downtown February slush
the concrete sidewalks, the sad empty streets
the granite walls standing erect to dam the pending flood.
And things unknown:
The Oval Office furniture
the texture of the suit coat of the New York banker
having children, tasting caviar
hunting the water buffalo in Kenya
running the dairy farm
cutting the umbilical cord of the first child
owning the ranch style home in Wisconsin.
On the empty streets:
the urban wasteland from which all have fled the imminent disaster.
He found the last carton of smokes in the abandoned corner market.
He smoked them all one by one.
He gazed through the window to see the face
of the eternal woman on the billboard of desire.
Yes
she had her own longing.
Categories:
scavenged, longing,
Form:
Free verse
i dreamt
i moved into a apartment
with an old brick wall
and its decaying face
the old light hanging from a thread
swings on the open breeze
from the window
time seems to slow down to a crawl
so i can see each and every flaw
so i can feel each and every thing she wanted me to feel
so i can know each and everything she saw
and so i see the the moment captured in ink
on her sketch pad
a drawing of the wind in the trees
a image of the smell of the fresh cut grass
the thoughts of the passer-by
who looked with such stark wonder
at this open display of what we have all taken
for granted we could never achieve
the old brick wall
leaned into the wind
and held
for one more day
kept safe the world she held so dear
safe for one more stormy night
the old brick wall
with its spray painted messages
like how joe loves daisy
and how we should make love not war
the old brick wall
holds back the world
from coming into her quiet soul
into the paper flowers and lace curtains of her life
the old brick wall
was once the west most piece of
the boxers rebellion
he was sad all his life
torn from his violent profession
and forced to retire
and his fists lay idle
with objections written on them like scars
but after years he came to terms
with the reasons great and small
with the rationalizations made up and real
and found peace
he found his fists could be hands
and hands can pet a cat
hands can paint a masterpiece
write a love poem
hands can touch another person without hurting them
and he suddenly he didn't want to hurt anyone ever again
because he loved having hands
and all the beautiful things they could do
he would never have fists again
and that change in him
was so profound that it became magical and
part of the old brick wall
so it will endure past its years
to protect her little scavenged world
her delicate life
her frail thoughts
because beauty isn't always
what the world thinks it is
a boxer can tell you that
Categories:
scavenged, angel, good morning, magic,
Form:
Ballad
I don’t know why crowd cover this,
Atmosphere full of air pollution
River full of chemist contamination
I don’t know why seedy cover this.
There are buildings stand sturdy
As the inner of economic
As the base of legality
As the nodal of metropolitan cosmic
But slumber still mushrooming
They have and they haven’t contrast
Too hard they are still humming
Scavenged in every time on trust
Categories:
scavenged, city, community, money,
Form:
Rhyme
THE KING AND THE FOOL
by H.B.Ussach
Folks talk of the long war between a king and a fool,
when peasants and pawns clashed to see one rule;
From pre-cast castle keeps company banners fly
like medieval flags of old,
And from ketchup-stained battlefield parking lots
scavenged not by buzzards but by gulls,
heralds cry: "Have it Your Way" and "Billions Sold."
Categories:
scavenged, business,
Form:
Free verse
The shell remains, picked clean by
Hungry vultures, ravenous with greed-
Eyes, gouged out, now vacant in their stare.
Raw morsels of choice bits and parts,
Unsparingly stripped or torn away, and
Soft gutted vitals furtively devoured,
Totally filled the needs of scavengers who
Yielded to hunger and shared the feast.
Cruelly, the carcass rests on bony frame
Although once supported by plump,
Round parts, on which it mightily ran-
Crushed and crumpled, now an empty shell.
Abandoned, there it lies- the scavenged,
Shattered, rusty, ravaged Chevy-
Staring- lifeless, amid the weeds and grass.
June 14, 2016
~9th Place~
Contest: Rusted and Busted
Sponsor: Casarah Nance
Judged: 06/27/2016
1st Place
Contest: A Brian Strand July 3
Sponsor: Brian Strand
Judged: 07/03/2021
Categories:
scavenged, metaphor, sad, tribute,
Form:
Acrostic
It's about time we talk of ruins.
So, let us talk, for you never know,
How long ears of hope will remain receptive.
Your lips are missing, and your kisses fall,
Like ripe plums and tint my confession,
Like coffee stains with smell of rust.
Looking back, dreams had stories,
About laughters blooming in dews on trembling grass,
With roots growing into layers of blue skies.
That dark sweater you began knitting,
Lies lifeless by a woollen ball,
Like buried half of a rainbow.
My greys are silvery now, and my smile
Looks like a scar, but my heart
Keeps shredding dead skins.
Footprints covered by caddish shadows
Of hubristic tongues,
Never to be retraced, and
The wish to carry your whispers beyond life,
Scavenged by beaks of time,
Is nothing but a piece of
History's torn chorion.
Entangled in my pensive repentance,
Memory of a girl (assuming),
Whose playful steps ruefully erased
Even before she was assisted into the world,
Stares back from an obsolete painting.
I sense blood seething in my veins,
But with no ill-will.
If only i could stop this hour from passing away,
And touch life one more time,
Gently and wisely, perhaps sweet palpitations
Would be heard knocking from within.
Lying in the heap of fallen bricks
Of dilapidated castle of Eros,
Where, once upon a time,
Our romance was folktale for angels and fairies,
I'm supposed to be bleeding the high-noon sun
To feed yesterday's vampiric fleas.
My body no longer lives on bread and grains,
But on tears and prayers, and
Keeps on living, surprising the undertaker and
my foes,
Who begin to think
I am here to stay indefinitely.
So, I labour to hasten my swan song
To gladden those who want to witness my exit.
The yarn with which
I began weaving a flag,
Has been sold to brothels of politics,
Where patriotism is only a slang
In perorations of capricious pimps.
My nights are haunted by ghosts
Of betrayed slogans
I once coined on fisting graffiti.
Standing amidst graves of words
Spoken inconspicuously,
I see soldiers placing putrid shocks and
Ugly boots
On books strewn across the floor
Of my old school's library
Which is now a fortified barrack.
But when I see tombs sleeping like babies,
In quietness of a cemetery,
I beg you -
Don't let me die without a wound, and
Even if it is in pretensive nostalgia,
Bury me with bloodstained kiss.
Categories:
scavenged, age, allegory, allusion, angel,
Form:
ABC
Like the mediaeval skirmish, defeat with stale dismay
Adjacent to every dwelling the silent donor plague;
Masquerades of scarlet doom as those who pass away
Unhygienic circumstance with umpteen reasons vague.
Black Death buboes mystery and evil stench of sewage,
Overcome in mammoth form an infestation magnitude
A maze of sedimentary canals, full to brim in carnage
Reared bubonic wilt of life, description misconstrued.
Queasy whiff from rotten flesh, riddled scourge of fleas
Dejected mass oblivious did every suburb town;
Sodden paths were warily like red light district sleaze
Opening cracks to insult what this suffereing put down.
Gradual was the ambush, a pungent trough of mess
Undisturbed was litter strewn to marinade as broth
Sludge and silt defied the tilt and wasn't getting less,
Darkened skies were charcoal grey, depicted every cough.
Stand pipes caused an arbitary membrane miles long,
Scavenged crust of leaking rot was London's crumpled city
Death prepared ones destiny to which whose dare belong
Disease was one priority, the other? That's a pity!
Expertly did a crafted sway! Enactment to the bold
Manifold a peoples ploy to disinfectant everywhere
Found conclusive rations, much was burned to scold,
Sanitised a rat free zone to dormant sleep somewhere.
Categories:
scavenged, animals, sad, social,
Form:
Ballade