Best Scott Poems
FOREVER ADELINE
Acknowledgement:
A big thank you Sam Scott from our Poetry Soup Community,
for your splendid narrative contribution.
Synopsis:
A story of unrequited love that began in childhood.
Despite the passage of time, his love remained hauntingly
painful even after she fell in love with another.
Aloft on wings of rhapsody, together spirits soar
Wild, untamed and sensuous, just like a lion's roar.
HOW LONG AGO IT SEEMS THE TWO OF YOU FIRST MET
AS TIME IS RENDERED MEANINGLESS
OR TIMELESS, BETTER YET
Though in that Timeless moment, along came winds of change
Love swiftly rearranged, but what it WAS, remained
Oh, Adeline, so fair and bright,
Eyes, like stars, shine with delight,
Oh fickle heart, now you await
your new love's sweet embrace
Blinded by the callous cad, you foolishly don't resist
In the quench of love's allure, Time does not exist
His loving lips will not reveal your new love's promiscuous charms
Intoxicated, unrepentantly, he sways to others' wanton arms.
Across the bronze Sienna shores and blissful sea breeze skies,
He ever trails your hungry heart through
his own saddened eyes.
Oh, Adeline in Twilight's Hush,
where shadows dance and play,
A tale of love and longing
When Night succumbs to Day
Oh, Adeline, will it be
mere friendship, he would fain?
To be just a deliverer of love notes,
a job he will disdain
Oh, Adeline ~ Sweet Adeline
At every glance - a secret shared,
his every word - love unsaid,
In every touch - a fire dared
HOW LONG AGO IT SEEMS ~ THE TWO OF YOU FIRST MET
AS TIME IS RENDERED MEANINGLESS
OR TIMELESS, BETTER YET
Chansons ne sont que chansons
Quand on écrit de l'amour
Comment d'écrire des chansons
De la femme qui est l'amour?
English translation from above:
Songs are just songs
When we write about love
How do you write songs
Of the woman who is Love?
OH, ADELINE ~ SWEET ADELINE
by Maria Williams ©
Background garden images taken on our recent visit to the amazing
Hunter Valley Gardens, Sydney, Australia
Musicians
Harp - Rolando Cristaldo
Violins: Fátima Benítez
Celeste Osorio
Hey, Scott Pruitt!*
We all knew it
Soon would come to this.
Rumors flew; it
Seemed you blew it.
Truth you would dismiss.
Anger’d brew; it
Looked like, “Screw it!”
Were the words you’d hiss.
You’d pooh-pooh it
As on view it
Seemed you were amiss.
How’d you do it?
Breeze right through it,
Seemingly in bliss?
Well, Scott Pruitt,
Now boo-hoo it!
You we will not miss!
*Trump’s head of the EPA
I'm an admirer
of his love
Not the romantic kind
The kind in our
imaginations
Brought to life
With a chivorous
Knight
A defender of
the poor and
downtrodden
Riding his horse
with his sword
glistening and
well sharpened
Defender of truth
and adoring his
one and only
Woman
By his side
I first met him
Over a year
and a half ago
He was handing
me over to
clearance
The intensity in
his gaze said
I should stand up
and pay attention
This was something
he needed help in
Like his little broken
but talented soldier
I complied
How do you say
no way to a Knight
in shining armour
Who bestows you with
a task at hand and
helps you along the way
This Knight would pop by
every now and again
and ask how it's going
Are you going to finish
this by the end of the day?
I'd say to this Knight
I'm working on it
He'd reply
You know I'm a
Yes or No man
And I'd reply back
Yes I know
But I have my own
way of answering
Saying it ever so
sweetly
His eyes light and he
chuckles as he rides away
A task at hand forming
in his mind to bestow on me
For another day
I didn't realize it
Until after he rode into
the sunset
That these tasks he
bestowed on me
Were for my own benefit
To work on me
To become strong and free
No longer needing
My Knight in shining armour
That all I needed was me
Sir Walter Scott
In the cold refused to squat
He lived on a boat
That refused to float.
19/05/14
"Love rain down on me..."
she bellows sweetly
I drink her soul through
the sounds
Letting me into her universe
dripping with love, food, imagery
a beautiful symphony of words
"Slowly, surely, I walked away from..."
the thought of turning my cd off
Jazz seeping through my pores
melting me like chocolate in hand
'I understand what you sayin' girl!!!'
Moving feet with every beat
"Love rain down on me..."
Author's Note: Some of the words in this piece are from actual songs. Jill Scott
has been a tremendous influence in my poetry. Her music and words are
constant companions. Much respect to her.
May I get serious for a moment
Sorry “serious” is not in my vocabulary
I try, and try but to no avail
Perhaps it's somewhat hereditary
Got it from my cuckoo son Scott
He sure didn't warn me he was contagious
Some of his humour is really far out
Might even call it outrageous
Did he get it from me, did I get it from him
A quandry but it really matters not
The end result is we're a couple of yahoos
All else means diddly squat
Though I have been known to change my hat
On occasion, a few times in the past
Mostly though, when it comes to the crunch
Being a silly old jester is a blast!
© Jack Ellison 2015
We could have run
And tried to hide.
But I promised Martin
I'd stand by his side.
The fear of death, hatred and pain.
He could oppress by peaceful change.
We could have tried
To run and hide.
But either way
He would have died.
So I gave to you my dream.
And carried on in peaceful means.
Now I join my love so true.
And leave this Dream Of Peace to you....
Nigh on ninescore year hae I
Preside o'er thaes city faer
But i' shoundna be me on thaes stule
In Mad King Gaerge's Squaer
In life a saemple claerk o' law
Who frae Edinburrah hael
'nd 's kent tae woo thae lasses
Wi' an auld ramaentic tael
Naw I set upon mae paerch
'nd watch Glaswegians pass
'nd time again mae eye doth fix
Upon a bonny lass
Thaer be but one wee aeggravation
I 'ud gladly tae shed
Faer I'ud rathaer dae wi'out
Thae seagael on mae haed
August 25, 2017
What wood you look 4 in a super heroe group ? IDE want sum one kwick , with speed like the flash ! And a black guy hooz allways talking trash !
And a fat cowboy with a small flying machine , hoo can be giving his pals a ride.
And a pretty redhead girl hoo levitates 2 the other side .
And a Kung fu master and a master of disskyze ,
Let's call this group , Scott Rockwell,s lunatic fringe ,
And ile take my burgers with fries ! ...
Ain't it Funny how
Lucifer once said to his father
Some certain individuals
No matter how guilty they are
Or evidence doth incriminate them
Always seem to get off
Scott Free
Enough said
Mic Drop
That's all I wished to say
As i am currently off to serve
Scott's sentence now
So due to this unavoidable catastrophe and travesty of justice
I will be most unfortunately out of commission for
the a wee foreseeable while
Hope to be back and see you soon
I'll be back
All depends on if I am prepared to change
And i manage to get parole for good behavior
With again
Ohh so Devilishly glint and glimmer in his eye
Trying his level best not to crack a Smile
Whilst all the while chocking up way
down deep inside
Looking most angelic as if he could sprout
wing's from underneath the ethereal
glowing hallo eminent above his saintly
head
Like butter wouldn't melt on any given
Sunday given up for lent
frankly zapped after wildly oscillating
in tandem with seven bobble heads and ten French horns)
a devilish trumpeting event
by pre-Christian Celtic festival standards
with a “proto” Don twick or tweeting
like a Taj Mahal wonder of webbed, wide world scout
Samhain celebrated on nightfall of October 31
for bachanalia, candy corn, dreaded locks tot tout.
Now, the Celts I met lived 2,000 years ago
in the area now Ireland,
the United Kingdom and northern France,
believed that the dead,
cuz the underworld could not tolerate nor find stand
ding room, thus returned to earth on Samhain –
accessing a outdated map drawn by Rand McNally.
Though all roads leading to Rome,
would be millenniums as future did advance
but (mentioned for no particular rhyme nor reason)
only for discordant anachronism
Lewis Carroll took a tumble,
and neither fat nor slim chance,
would never find him completing Alice in Wonderland,
cuz quite an expanse
of centuries extant between his accidental slip
somewhere back in time at a glance
hence, he befell the same fate,
how Alice would never en hance
her life, yet the first stanza hailed
as powerful punch from grunting naked tribesman
with armstrong brandishing big lance
which phallic symbol extolled bare necessity,
and no need to wear seer sucker pants
even when inaugurating the ritual, including the verse
..."The time has come," the Walrus said
"To talk of ma ny things:
Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax--
Of cabbages--and kings--
And why the sea is boiling hot--
And whether pigs have wings."...
set the listeners in a trance
emptying coffers of bipedal feral simians to add vance
this yearly practice filling rucksacks
with berries, carrion and twigs.
Whether ya favor Golem, Hobgoblins, or Dybyk,
take pause buffer ja pour out massed goodies heck
enjoy satiating yar sweet tooth while still able to lick
every morsel of junk food afterwards a tooth pick
might be necessary to remove gobs that didst stick
analogous to tallow melted from candle wick.
After becoming confident
(das ernest frank gent) handled ignition
jerryrigged knobs, levers, motors,
nameless other parts quintessentially,
set registers to “understand” vital www xy zone.
----------------------------------------------------------
A blitzkrieg capstone detonated explosive forcees
generating horrendous instantaneous jolt,
Krakatoa lost mighty noise,
outrageous phenomena qualified regarding
tremendous unearthly violent
whiplashing xing yawping zeitgeist!
----------------------------------------------------------
Imagine; The giant from Jack and the beanstalk, deign
Paul Bun, or the Jolly Green Giant,
straddling an imaginary line
between fall and winter. Therein lied the rub
(a tub tub three men in a tub), a question of mine
if pecking peccadillos peculiar per pretend puppies
engaged in any...Snoop...doggy style spine
tingling homosexual behavior,
no who matter intimated naked playtime also flourished
amidst can dyed cornicopia of good 'n plenty eats
contrasted with paucity,
life and death, Halloween evolved
as a celebration and superstition with wine
woman and song. Such weaning of the hallow,
or hallow of the weaner originated
with ancient Celtic festival of Samhain,
when village people would light vanity of bonfires,
and wear politically incorrect costumes
to ward off roaming ghosts of inept leaders
if necessary rivaling Tarzan impressions
swinging on a vine.
The Mound of the Hostages car bon mot dated
(by this amateur sigh hint hussed)
at 4,500 to 5000 years old, or there about
suggesting Samhain celebrated long before
first Celts arrived in Ireland
about 2,500 years ago with no cleats boot riveting clout
Samhain (pronounced /'s??w?n/
SAH-win or /'sa?.?n/ SOW-in,
Irish pronunciation: without,
or possibly Greek to this doubt
ting Thomas – [s??u?n?]),
a Gaelic festival marking the end,
when pollination ceased to flout
ushered advent of harvest season,
and beginning cust tomb of caw king grout,
discussing the epic winter of Gilgamesh,
or the "darker half" of the year,
when one feasted on giblets and sauer kraut
Halloween rooted er beer reed in ancient biers
caravansari doggedly exhumed along route,
66 (the third beastly 6
Thank ye immensely devoted sister Shari
for availing Shana Aubrey
an expansive plethora of blessedly
extravagant opportunities
wherein here anatomical fist-sized noggin i.e. grey
matter sponging up - less doable from me
the biological father, who validates
your doting, helping, kickstarting,
et cetera I clamor to see!
--------------------------------------------
Matthew Scott Harris Born January 13th, 1959
I shake my shaggy hirsute hair
in utter disbelief, when the cocked arrow
begat thine conception,
when meal ate mum and octogenarian papa
begat their second offspring and only son,
what now seems to be a stepped-up pace,
where father time
doth affix another candle to blow
where the passage of life now measured
in swiftly tailored decades
denoting another birthday,
when in the blink of an eye,
I vividly recall crow
wing like a Lil whippersnapper of a boy
leisurely playing monopoly
for make-believe dough...
--------------------------------------------
nothing ranks as the greatest gift
since being a father twenty-one years ago
then bearing witness to grow
increasing autonomy
of my two precious daughters
whereby each will become master
of their domain, and meet a loving beau
(actually thy eldest dates
a delightful young man
from Puerto Re Coe),
whom intuition discerns would be
a near perfect match –
and this papa intuits dough
nuts to dollars – that such an
em man hint gentle, humble,
intelligent lad – doth hoe
pa fully become the future groom
of said firstborn, (which outcome I know
wing couched in a couple of poems
sent his way, and no doubt his smarts lo'
and behold revealed the slightly obscure wish),
where love doth most obviously abound mo'
then prevailed between myself and bride o'
mine these last deuce score
plus (21+) years, but now this Poe
whit aspires to recognize the worthiness of she,
whose chose thyself as a lifetime
groom cuz peaceful status quo
avoiding animosity –
as thyself and spouse gently row
merrily...merrily...merrily
our once quite rickety craft
which oft times in the past needed a tow
off the craggy shoals of constant woe.
Anne Simpson Scott
1895- 1932
Friends, my friends,
I do remember.
On the night before leaving to France in 1917
George held my hand.
He held it firmly in his perspiring palm,
Held it and would not relinquish
His gallant grasp. I recall too,
He, taking his left loving index finger
And smoothly, affectionately, precisely,
Stroking my left accepting index finger
Like a soothing balm, like a healing descending brook
As it lapps and caresses the shivering earth
In the silent tranquil evenings of renewed Spring.
Friends, my friends
I do remember.
On our wedding day in 1921
George held my hand.
He held it firmly in his perspiring palm,
Held it and would not let go.
Not even for five fateful forgotten minutes.
Friends, dear friends,
I do remember.
On the morning I died in 1932
George held my hand.
He held it gently, reassuringly, resignedly
In his trembling perspiring palm,
Held it quietly, bravely, sadly
And would not let go.
And now friends, we are together again
Here in this deep sleeping earth
This dreaming drowsy earth
Here in Mt. Olive Cemetery
He on top of me
Our skeletal long fingered hands
Enjoined, enmeshed and entwined
Forever in the dust
Forever in the dark blooms of death.
Oh friends, my friends
I do remember.
Alpha male
No doubt about it
It's in the way he walks
It's in the way he talks
Self confidence and presence
He knows he's in a powerful position
When women at work call him Mc Dreamy
I always ask "Who's That??"
They look at me like I'm from another planet
I'm laughing when I think about that
See, I look into the soul of this wolf
Not at his outer appearance
I've got say, that I had to face him one day
I was running away from clearance
And the task at hand given to me
by Co Scott
My story of the Night in Shining Armour
with tasks at hand
Lessons in growth and understanding
How to be self sufficient and self reliant
And I was so overwhelmed and crying
But he ever so gently put his foot down
and said people are jealous of success
That clearance is stressful and I'd be good
for this task
So I went back to clearance and went back
under the guidance of both men
And I don't regret it one bit
Store Scott ever so gently guided me
in the right direction for my success
I asked him one time if he valued me
as an employee
And he immediately said yes
I was a problem solver he said
I took those words and cherished them
in my heart
And he was right
Through his wisdom
I'm applying these problem solving skills
in my personal life
And I'm growing and flourishing
Thanks to this alpha males kindness
And belief in me that I can succeed
See I'm fiercely loyal to those who are loyal to me
And I can't wait to show him I can shine
With a little more guidance and patience
I feel safe with his presence in our pack
Queensryche. Silent lucidty. song.