Best Scraggly Poems
I remember the days when I'd fall
asleep before hitting the pillow.
Ah, the joy of a sound sleep.
I might not have been at my best
in the morning all things considered.
Day-old makeup very much past its prime.
My eyelashes were caked and looking scraggly,
my lipstick smeared across my cheek and pillow,
eyeshadow streaked clear across my forehead.
Thankfully one good shower made me whole again!
AP: 2nd place 2025
I am dreaming of you tonight,
though we may never meet
but if we do, you will know me
by my hyacinth shoes.
You will remember me in the pale blooms
that float on
billabongs or ponds
I will take you along dusty streets
an outback town, where currawongs
call at dusk from scraggly gums,
branches rocking in the wind
I will whisper secrets
of morning glory vines along a back fence-
of the surprise that Spring's
first snowdrop brings
it’s green petals
dotted and lined with delicate green.
Your sorrow will never be the color of them
your joy only as high
as the elation they bring
I will teach you to sing by slow caresses,
my hair on your skin
to dance with soft words that waltz
over a carpets of leaves
No-one will know the small cues - each tiny gesture
that will guide us
into life’s un-knowable purpose.
Suzanne Delaney
Those BURMA SHAVE signs used to give us kids something to do,
As down the highways and byways in our 1935 Dodge we flew!
The chef-d'oeuvre from the quills of very creative poets flowed,
Nailed to fence posts for our cultural enlightenment along the road!
Take note of this sign young reader as you pass this way!
In just a little while you too will be hoary and gray!
And like your Pa with steady hand be true and brave,
As you wield that straight razor usin' BURMA SHAVE!
She told her beau, "You remind me of a thug,
With that scraggly stubble sproutin' on yer mug!
If its my hugs and kisses that you crave,
Best ya start usin' BURMA SHAVE!"
The feller tried over and over to get a job,
But potential bosses thought him a slob!
Never apply for work looking like a knave!
Use gobs of BURMA SHAVE when you shave!
With her feller Mabel had a beef.
Claude's stubble caused her grief!
Said she, "Yer wreckin' our romance!
Ever thought of usin' BURMA SHAVE by chance?"
If on your mug you are well endowed
With stubble of which you're not proud
In the mornin' after yer kisser you scrub,
Liberally slather with BURMA SHAVE, old Bub!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved
there once was a flying monkey who didn't know what to eat. so he ate the old scraggly poop hanging from his butthole. His friends thought he was weird but i didnt. i do that all the time. it tastes good.
We were poor, but my brother and I didn’t know it.
Before Christmas my dad would take us to find just the right scraggly
fir tree..a wonderful afternoon tramping around in the woods.
Old and worn decorations..we were delighted to open the crate
and unpack them; it was like seeing old and beloved friends again.
The red velvet car was my favorite.. his a bedraggled Santa sled.
We always had a present or two..but the most exciting gifts were
in our stockings. The stockings were my dad’s work socks..washed
and pressed for the occasion. They hung with pride, beautiful to us.
One year I got a fishing pole in my stocking. It was stuck through
a hole in the heel. I thought that Santa was the cleverest
of men. Imagine..using that hole to my advantage!
My dad’s boss would give us the same thing year after year.
A crate of oranges, something we never had at any other time.
I can still see the juice on my hands as we devoured that special gift.
I wouldn’t trade those Christmas memories. The greatest gift was feeling
warm, and safe…and loved.
When fire raged and burned it's roof, sun rays fell to forest floor,
And lit upon scraggly flowers once doomed to bloom no more.
Then unharnessed, like wild horses, the shrubs began to fight.
Each year they grew and blossomed, thanking sunshine for it's light.
The rains in spring brought forth rhodendendron's chromatic reds,
Near Redwood towering trunks 'bove where squirrels make their beds.
The rhodendendrons meander like hikers in the hills,
To startle round forest corners with blossoming pink thrills.
Kruse Rhodendendron State Natural Reserve is a park,
A California treasure, a pleasant trip to embark.
While hiking beneath the Redwood trees' scented canopy,
Enjoy this gift of land, enjoy the flowers wild and free.
Abraham Lincoln, the president,
Awe-inspiring American gent.
Lead the American Civil war
Abolishing slavery no more.
Abraham Lincoln, the president,
Scraggly and tall, cheeks each flaccid dent.
Laughing, jokes were told of people’s flaws.
Jokester, mocked how ugly he was.
Abraham Lincoln, the president
Shared his humorous stories frequent.
History's great leaders, once long ago;
Helped shape the America we know.
12/29/2020
Lincoln was 6’ 4” tall
On Christmas Eve night,
The only sound
Within our house
Comes from its wooden frame,
Creaking
And settling
Like three footsteps
Carefully
Stepping
From the upstairs
To downstairs
Then nothing more,
An exhausted ghost
Lifted
From the hot air
Of the furnace
That begins to blow
Through the opened vents
On the wooden floors.
But then,
From the living room
Down the hall,
A tiny bell
Rings
Rings
Rings.
I go to see.
From under the Christmas tree,
Lit
With twinkling lights
Like the skyline of a city
Towering upon a bay at night,
The presents
Underneath
Wrapped
And stacked
In all the colors,
Rippling
Like a watery reflection,
I see
Our cat
With his snowy white paw,
Much like a miniature mitten,
Batting the air,
Back and forth,
Above his head,
Jiggling
A little bell
That fell
From the top of the tree,
Snagged by the tree’s scraggly arm
Outstretched
At the hem of its billowing skirt,
Pulsating a tiny
Ting
Ting
Ting
Through all the rooms
Throughout our house
In the pendulum eyes
Of that curious cat,
Holy echoes
From all my Christmas’ past.
Sunlight trickles through stained glass windows.
She kneels, a little apart from her fellows
who also seek salvation in water.
Her gray hair slips from her circumspect braid,
and her Sunday-best thrift-store garb
stands out because it doesn't.
Shaking fingers tap the rail
Nervous feet twitch as she waits.
The water flows down the line of supplicants
till it reaches her, and instantly,she is transformed,
beautiful from scraggly braid to thrift-store shoes.
Can mere water cause this transformation?
Is this a message for me---
Another arrow into the heart of my agnosticism?
I don't know, but for now,
there is sunlight trickling through stained glass windows.
Z Z Top and Cousin It took the right approach
Dark sun glasses and beards detract from scraggly hair
Next time my motley hairdo meets with reproach
Combing forward I’ll consider, sparing the Nair
*For Rick's "Bad Hair Day" contest
Poor Tim, the timorous, one cold dark day
set out to prove that TIMID he was not!
He ventured one whole night alone to stay
inside the empty house his friends had sought.
The house was old. . . unlocked, it beckoned Tim.
He neared its door; his trepidation grew.
His laughing friends grew silent watching him.
He deeply breathed, then vanished from their view.
Inside, Tim heard below the house a sound.
He could not be a coward! With a sigh,
he took the creaking stairway down and found
before his eyes, a scraggly toothless guy
who greeted, smilingly, the trembling lad:
“It ain’t the Ritz, but welcome to my pad!”
For the "Smile You're On Candid Camera Contest
of vienna bombardieri
The lessons of life remind me,
the lack of substance,
birth and rebirth without relevance or depth
death to some, “who cares”
life to others, “who cares”
meaningless unspoken voices echoing back and forth
up and down, upside down
change we can't; we won't
hearts locked in cold
it's ok to be without, “get a job you bum”
empty innards inside - cold empty spaces outside
cold, heat, starvation,
pain and death,
pointless ill-defined life,
human beings as acceptable losses, “heaven forbid”
heatless minds accept
heart-filled minds don’t.
This work is dedicated to the ill dressed, soiled, bearded, smoking, scraggly maybe once proud and loving individual, holding his “homeless” sign in his hand begging for money - as I hurriedly exited the freeway this morning, who I ignored – actually hid from. Have I become what I dislike in others? Hope not.
the man had a flat expression and showed no emotion
he seemed disconnected his movements bizarre
and his eyes lost sometimes standing motionless
on the busy street corner
with his little dog I always gave him money
(what's a few bucks to me )
thinking this is someone's child baby
oh he was sloppy his hygiene lacking
the man's memory muddled confused
but he did have a history locked within deep inside
at nineteen he was hearing voices paraniod
thoughts hullucinations bizarre
(like the pope was from outer space) delusional
he had withdraw from society run away
did not want to be a burden no one understood
disorganized and poor judgement
made working impossible they yelled at him
(he threw away his pills)
he wrote in cheap journals from
edge to edge top to bottom words jumbled meaningless
(in a secret language)
he did not show happiness agitation pleasure but
for some reason sadness oh yes sadness
was written all over him I could see feel
that and he did have love a real deep love
for that thin scraggly dog and I thought
some may think he is a drunk
but they are wrong this is
schizophrenia
____________________________
August 4, 2015
Poetry/Free Verse/Something Not Quite Right
Copyright Protected, ID 15-697-431-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
For the contest, Mental Illness,
sponsor, Nathan D
Fifth Place
I took my periodic stroll through the local antique store today.
I stumbled over things and stepped 'round clutter to make my way.
I looked for clocks, found none, but saw many things I could do without,
And those are the things that I propose to tell you all about.
There was an old buggy wheel - I could see no use for that.
I saw horse collars, washboards and someone's stuffed Angora cat.
On the wall was a photo of a Victorian guy glaring back at me.
Also displayed was a chamber pot and a scraggly Christmas tree!
What use have I for a manure fork or hubcaps for a '47 Dodge,
Or a shaggy buffalo robe or shriveled scalps from an Indian lodge?
Displayed were coffee grinders and old Prince Albert tobacco cans,
A portrait of Napoleon and a hood ornament for a '37 Mercedes Benz!
Hanging on a clothes rack was an old soldier's moth-eaten uniform.
I have no need for a hornet's nest that once held and angry swarm.
Though I found many things I could do without, not so my spouse!
She bought a cart full of gimcracks and trumpery to clutter up the house!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved
First Place in Black Eyed Susan's "Antique" Contest - May 2014
One day my daughter brought home a scraggly looking young cat who had always
lived outside. In her first year, we learned she had given birth to two litters of kittens, most of which died. She’d always had to scrounge for food and had even escaped from the pound, only to find her way back to that place where she’d not been well-treated! When my daughter saw her, it was her kittens that were being given away. But my daughter saw a gentle quality in this mother cat that surpassed the sweetness of the kittens and asked to take the mother, who became known to our family as Callie (for Calico).
Callie grew plump and flourished in our home. She was no nuisance to anybody or anything. She became so pampered that she hated the outdoors and if a door were opened, she would approach the “outside” cautiously, only to come racing back inside the minute we returned from our porch. Callie loved to sit on laps and be petted. The older she got, the louder she even purred. If a visitor came to the house, she would climb to their laps. She was small and so likable that nobody wanted to shoo her away.
When our children left home, she became my one and only baby, curled up by my pillow each night and awakening me with a little pat to my face every morning for her breakfast. Callie lived a long life, nearly 18 years, but has since passed on. Dying of cancer, she clung to life until we saw fit to have her put to sleep. I have since adopted other cats, and my current cat is indeed charming, but I still believe there is not another cat in the world that can compare to our one and only Callie Cat!