Best Scratch Poems
Illustrious
Phantom
You chase
My desire
For satisfaction
As I chase you
Hither and thither
Like the rainbow's end
Always just out of reach
Escalating intensity or just
A trick of the cruel mind
Dancing across my skin
Infiltrating my sanity
As a ghostly feather
Until I find your
Illusive hiding
Place
Ahh
My daddy was a roughneck and he worked the oil patch.
He ate his eggs and biscuits that my mommy made from scratch.
Pies and cakes and everything from scratch was always made.
That was the best, the ladies said - the rule they all obeyed.
So I watched her while she made it, and fixed us up a batch.
I saw flour and eggs and butter, but I never saw that scratch.
I saw everything she added, and I watched real close, I swear.
That scratch must be invisible; I couldn't spot it anywhere.
I guess there is some magic in the scratch, I must admit.
Especially at grandma's, who makes everything from it.
So if I should ever marry, for me a perfect match
is a girl just like my mommy, who makes our food from scratch.
April 10, 2015
Roy Jerden
Scribbling
on scratch paper
poets paint their
poems
with colorful word pictures
each palette penned
image a
a stroke from the
artists brush ready to
hang
in a gallery of minds
Why do men scratch
Adjusting their dress they say
But more like a sneaky grope
Is what they do each day
We women can’t help but notice
The obvious ploy of you men
Whether its cos of sweaty bits
But you just don’t care, - when
What if we went about
Having a scratch as we walk
Can you imagine the tongues wag
Wondering what we have caught
Now you males of the universe
Think before you scratch
Whether anyone is watching
Or is it “ You don’t care a hatch”
The itch is less than constant pain
not enough to cause a moan
but always there in misery
asking balm to cure the ill
that static humming on the nerves
stripped to wires sparking hot
the echoes sound at all times
a dirge to state illusion's cast
the glow perceived in manic flush
wishing less than consequence
perhaps the crowds can’t conceive
a state beneath that asks too much
at the price of sanity
a rage suppressed against the need
questing for the medicine
applied to scratch demanding deeds.
There is a certain kind of game to play
It states that you can win in any way
Scratch off the secret spot
Thinking you’ve won a lot
Disappointed, you lose every penny
Russell Sivey
Entrant into Susan Burch's "Lottery Ticket Limerick" contest
1/2/2012
“I don't care what anybody says about me as long as it isn't true.” -Dorothy Parker
“Beauty is only skin deep, but ugly goes clean to the bone” -Dorothy Parker
Angels connecting
in real live
Thinking reflecting
and keeping us strive
'Say no to consensuality
that's your best quality
You've the audibility
so keep on your prosody'
Always on time
Mr/Miss/Ms/Mrs I'm...
'Shhhhhhh'
with an eye rhyme
"That heinous crime"
Jumping off the metrics
Holy sculls!
Writing isn't mathematics
Such as friendship
Do everything intensively on your trip
If you stumble in the footpath
It's just a turn on
High in raciness
No Life Span
In the wrath
I am You Sylvia Plath
Nightmares and Dreams
In your life
You were anarchical
one of a kind
my new heteronym
named Wolfed Golf
because is worth being Virginia Woolf
In my paintings: pastels oils pencils and markers Paranoia(s) converter(s)
In being a reporter
In my disorder
sometimes being dark and darker
I am you,
Mrs Dorothy Parker
Written on August 13, 2012
Cluttering the blue -
A thick white line of a cloud.
The jet races away.
Your Best Haiku contest
Fifth Place
i love your embrace
your arms soothe my stressed pieces ...
please scratch my back some
cuddling is pure joy
your touch is my therapy ...
your feet are so cold
Oh crazy cat lady
with your eyes so yellow,
I want to meet with you
'cause I'm a cat fellow
We can share a cup of tea
if that is what you like,
and I can bring along my cat
in the basket of my bike
We can share good times
and talk about cats that are lazy,
if you want to -- call me tonight
but please, don't call me crazy
So I'll be waiting for your call
as I lightly brush kitty's fur,
I know that if we meet tonight
the four of us will really purr!
For "Crazy Cat Lady" contest by Line Gauthier.
Once upon a time, there was a girl who had a cat.
He was a long haired siamese, with eyes of aquamarine and strands of silver fur.
Every time the girl was sad, she'd lift her cat's paw and give herself a little scratch to remind herself of her beloved pet.
In this way, the girl would transform her sadness to joy.
With every insult thrown her way came a scratch.
Every loss, every heartbreak, it all went scratch, scratch, scratch.
Through this scratching, she'd turn her pain to dust.
The cat knew this wasn't normal human behavior.
No one else in the house picked up his paws like that.
Just her.
One day the girl came home after a particularly hard day. She'd failed two tests and lost a close friend.
Right away, she approached the cat.
"Take my pain away," she whispered. "Turn it to dust."
And with a scratch, it all was gone.
Tropical summer
Scratching nails on metal sheet
What stirred sharp inside
Pie in the oven!
The flaky crust is browning,
Sugar crystallized.
Apple filling, juicy sweet,
I’ll eat it all by myself.
Entered in Soup 2/21/20
'Let the Pens Flow - Tanka' Contest
A
friend
sent me a
wedding invite
via a Facebook app,
I sent a gift via Farmville
Sometimes I sit here and I wonder,
how long have I been here?
With the words of a ghost rotting my tongue,
exhaling phantoms who hang over my shoulders;
they offer a smoky hand.
I could take it and escape.
Instead I try to stay seated, unmoving, tired.
My limbs feel too heavy to move.
Sometimes I get a sense of the world beyond
the confines of my mind, I think, I remember.
I’ve lost count of the days and hours
too many seconds becoming minutes.
My head hurts, so I exhale.
I try to reconnect to my body,
are you out there waiting for this?
My words are building up
so many scratch pieces of paper surround me
Come read them, remember me. Find me.