Best Scruff Poems
Bully, the bull dog thought he was tough
He barked until his owner had enough
Bully went to the pound
A disgruntled old hound
He had a name change...now he's called "Scruff"
Blow Hard was a very ugly bullfrog
Sat in a pig sty on a rotten log
Boasted about his size
He was not very wise
Cuz the moron was eaten by a hog
There's an old geezer who has an ego
Told tales of his greatness for all to know
The haughty one cries
His tales were all lies
He's an old phony who has to eat crow
Bully, Blow Hard, and even that old Geezer dude
All three looked at life with eyes that were skewed
Moral of story...
There is no glory
In barking, boasting, or a haughty attitude
Categories:
scruff, humor,
Form:
Limerick
the ever helpful angels,
we meet along the way,
ones who will pick you up,
till you are happy, bloody aye,
boot the black dog up the Kyber pass,
and the mongrel whines away,
depression knocked off, on its asss,
when the angel comes your way,
take the world by scruff,
yer tough enough,
be happy bloody aye,
let the inner spirit shine, plum duff,
is all that johnson says...
Don Johnson
Categories:
scruff, adventure, celebration,
Form:
Ballad
BRING IT ON
Bring your unreachable,
Bring your difficult,
I am tough,
Bring your burdens,
Bring your depressed,
I’ve gone through rough,
Bring your exhausting,
Bring your untouchable,
Know all that stuff,
Bring your unorthodox,
Bring your unspeakable,
Bring on the powerful,
I’ll call their bluff,
Will take them by the scruff,
For I have had enough!
Categories:
scruff, bullying,
Form:
Naat
Some gloom took her from me.
Or was it hate?
Or did it rest somewhere between the two?
She's gone is what matters.
The cars pass anyway.
The wind blows anyway.
That new apartment block gets built anyway.
The grass grows anyway and is cut down and grows and is cut down and grows and is cut down and grows and is cut down and grows and is cut down and grows and grows and grows and grows and grows and grows-
Anyway
I decide to shave one morning, the mice in the scruff have fled the snakes long enough.
At least this way they can see them coming.
I wonder which one I am.
But then think that's stupid.
Categories:
scruff, analogy, anger, anxiety, break
Form:
Free verse
They got him as a puppy when Danny was nearly three.
He was a scruffy little fellow and had no pedigree.
Daddy asked, "What are you going to name the little tyke?"
"Scruff" said Danny. "I think that's a name he'd like!"
They became the closest pals and were seldom seen apart.
Every move that Danny made, to him Scruff's eyes would dart.
Scruff would tag along with Danny to ensure he didn't stray.
At night as he dreamed of kings and things, Scruff nigh him lay.
The sun-tanned, barefoot boy and his dog formed a loving bond,
As they explored the fields and streams and veiled horizons beyond.
Scruff chased rabbits and butterflies as they took their daily tramp.
Danny shared his lunch with Scruff when they took a break to camp.
Time hastened on inexorably as it will and schooling beckoned Dan.
Through high school then on to college, Danny became a man.
Scruff was moving slower and gray hairs were seen upon his ruff.
'Twas apparent that time was taking its toll on good and faithful Scruff.
In a far-off place strife began and Danny marched off to war.
His heart was shattered as he left Scruff whimpering at the door.
'Twas to be their final farewell. Alas, Danny did not come home.
Never more would Scruff and his pal those fields of Indiana roam.
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved
Tied First Place in Seren Roberts "Little Lad And Big Dog" Contest - July 2013
Categories:
scruff, growing up, boy,
Form:
Rhyme
Flight (less)
Flight is a gift from God - The Bald Eagle spreads her wings
The Emperor Penguin is a novel sight,
With an crown of gold around the scruff,
Heavily insulated and robbed of flight,
Icy swims, bitter cold, these conditions are rough,
The emperor survives, despite.
New Zea land's pet bird,
Don’t eat this kind of Kiwi,
They can’t fly and are not safe,
National Symbol,
This little guy likes the night,
Smells dinner from far away.
The Emu looks like its cousin,
The Ostrich and his kin are grounded.
Original Poem written by:
Samual Ronthorpe for the contest:
“four DIFFERENT BIRDS IN FOUR DIFFERENT forms” ¤¤ 4th Place ¤¤
The four forms are:
1) Monoku
2) Sicilian Quintain
3) Choka
4) Crystalline
Composed 4-27-2011 ©.
Categories:
scruff, animals
Form:
Free verse
A conversation between Katherine Hepburn
and Spencer Tracy
My Katherine My Spencer
Oh, my Spencer, you're much shorter than I
I know, my Katherine, but for you I’d die
Would you really, how that does please
Oh my Katherine, you are such a tease
You are the queen of the cutting remark
Yes my Spencer, you’ll jump when I bark
Oh my Katherine, please purr like a cat
Spencer, you know, I don’t do things like that
Your such a tough guy with heart so soft
And you're so engaging yet stay so aloft
My Katherine, what’s with, this haughtiness
To keep you at bay, with your naughtiness
My Spencer, it’s just, the way I am made
My Katherine, no way, will you persuade
This soft heart of mine, to leave you alone
Spencer, you know, that I’m made of stone
You’re up on the screen, all elegant, cold
But Katherine to me you’re a sight to behold
So true, my Spencer, but I’ve seen enough
In your best suit, you still look a scruff
My Katherine I wonder in our film career
Which one do think, our fans most endear
My Spencer, of that, there’s one thing I’m sure
You can count yourself lucky I think it’s a draw
We’ve been so successful, both you and I
Yes, my Spencer, could want for no more
Except I was more so, which you can’t deny
They gave you two Oscars but I received four
Oh, my Katherine, I love you so
Maybe Spencer, but no-one must know
We’ll leave this Earth, one day it seems
And make reality our hopes and dreams
Categories:
scruff, people, heart, heart, i
Form:
Couplet
Rhymes with “Stuff”
By Dane Smith-Johnsen
Bluff is a cliff that above land is laid.
Bluffs are charades to win card games played.
Buff is a tint between white and brown.
Buff shines stuff; rub a soft-cloth around.
Duff with raisins is a pudding that's stiff.
Huffing and puffing might cause moods’ shift.
Fluff is stuff that flies when pillow splits.
Fluff is spare language, added tidbits.
Cuff is hitting or playing too rough.
Instant speech is “talking off the cuff.”
Gruff are the words folks say to sound tough.
Guff is gobbledegook's made up stuff.
Muffs warming fingers used to be hip.
Now a day people don't give a flip.
Scuffs are boo-boos found on feet that slip.
Snuff is brown stuff not found in kid's lips.
Buff, cuff, duff, huff, fluff, gruff, bluff and ****
Puff, guff, scuff, scruff, all rhyming with stuff,
Some have two meanings, others one.
That's enough rough tough rhyming word fun!
Dedicated to Hunter G. Jackson, a kindergarten student who loves to rhymes words.
Categories:
scruff, education, children, kindergarten,
Form:
Rhyme
I
wonder. . .
when I see
my lovely cats,
one licking at the
other’s scruff, as if she
were engrossed in an act of
singular devotion. . . how it
is that I, who feed them, cannot get
a one of them to give a darn for me!*
*Note: I was not able to find a very good
replacement for my beloved Callie Cat,
who died three years ago of cancer. The
two cats I now have are ok, but nobody can even see
them because they hide from strangers and
rarely wish to be held!
Categories:
scruff, pets
Form:
Etheree
I was never born a poet
But a pauper standing on a pulpit
Penning words in spring tide dings
Ritzy scribbling like trundling rings
Talons of my feet
Seething grounds I scratch and leet
Feathers I preen and wag
Over my scruff I rip and gag
On rivers and wells I soak and dip
Shimming on reflections I gobble or sip
Over hills and cliffs I hover and skip
Your face I slip over my lip
"Poetry brought life to a dreamer as a penner
But why is life more important than poetry as a winner?"
(Prosebite)
Categories:
scruff, life, poetess, poetry, poets,
Form:
Verse
Dragon always needs to be entertained, or there’s trouble brewing, I Say!
So we got him an electric train set, for him and his penguins the other day.
But naturally, he had to sit in the middle of the track, not to mention his tail!
It kept constantly, knocking that train, plumb off its tracks, without fail!
And his penguins were way to big, to ride those cars that go clickety clack.
Yes, siree’, every time the train started up, another calamity, set him back!
Nobody likes Dragon when he’s frustrated, and Grandpa Troll, least of all!
So he picked up Dragon, by the scruff of his neck, and that’s not easy, atoll!
He said the idea we had was a sound one, but it didn’t fit his age and size.
So he plunked him into the old hay wagon and began to take him for a ride!
Erelong the trolls had laid a wooden track, to run the wagon on for a furlong.
Dragon was having such great fun, that he decided to pull his penguins along.
Our neighbor witch made Dragon a fancy harness with which to pull them all.
Yep, there was more bling, per square inch, on it, than to count before next fall!
Here, it’s Spring with her sun, my poetry friends, giving him energy to burn.
And he was so energized, that every kid on the block, got more than one turn.
Yep, the parents brought them in their Easter Best, as cameras started to roll.
A circular track made it more fun as they all burst into great children’s’ songs!
Now Dragon had everyone’s eyes on him… so he was the happiest of them all.
Even the Trolls got long rides, you know, those who built the track, you recall?
So today we were all winning and swimming in fun, because of Grandpa Troll.
My moral is: fancy gadgets, aren't always what we need, when we want to play.
A little imagination and moving around can sometimes be better, to save the day.
And some times Fun, with no competition can bring friendships closer, your way.
Categories:
scruff, childhood, fantasy, friendship, fun,
Form:
Light Verse
https://www.youtube.com/edit?video_id=M1uhJSVuz_A
School bashings in 1951
Oh I went to school in fifty one
Like every six year old should
I did't know what was in store
A flogging for my good?
Bushy got a sandwich from another kid at school
He handed me another, nice tucker it was cool
Bushy did not come this day, I got another sandwich
Head teacher grabbed me by the scruff
A long cane he did brandish.
He thought to drive the evil out
I surely got a thrashing
Blue stripes from heel to nape of neck
Yes mate I got a bashing .
Beryl Mason was the older girl (bushys sister)
Who came and told my father
He sprang upon his horse, did whirl
His stockwhip cracked like thunder
He rode up the steps into the school
And sprang upon the teacher
Belted him often hard and cruel
And Joe become a preacher....he saw the light
So I did not get the cane for awhile after that.
I'd had all I needed for awhile. Don Johnson 6-12-10
My mate Sourpuss Noble of Dirranbandi had his head
Jammed through a plate of glass in a school door ..
As the teacher said .You will not talk no more?
Categories:
scruff, adventure,
Form:
Ballad
Sometimes
I wonder
Do you think of me?
I lie
So silently
Tears streaming down slow
Never
Have I loved
As strongly as now
I always forget I'm better at hiding than I realise
I expect people to see right through me,
I'm terrified of what they'll think
I'm especially terrified of you.
You should be able to read me like a book
When you don't, I'm amazed
When I told you, you looked like I'd slapped you
My world
It has changed
I was in your arms
Briefly
We melted
Lying in the rain
Your head
On my chest
Isn't a burden
I want you to wrap your arms around me
I want to feel your scruff on my cheek
I want to run my fingers through your hair
I want to make love in the rain.
You are the scariest thing that's happened
We should be lying next to each other
We should be sharing our art
Your song
My book and
My philosophy
We should
Leave this place
Find a safe venue
I would
Follow you
Privileged Presence
Categories:
scruff, love, passion,
Form:
Free verse
Lazy Sundays, a sleep in until whenever, sunny day bbq or a driving adventure, come to think of it - What is it that you are looking for?
A romantic dinner for two, a glass of wine or more, having laughs or chatting down to the core – do you even know what you are looking for?
A modern day Jane Austen, a sure thing, a quick fling or a just never go there kind of ‘ing’ – whatever it is – are you sure you know what you are looking for?
Pealing back the layers, finding out what’s inside, knowing and taking your time – is that the person you are looking for?
High energy plus, taking life by the scruff, making the most of every moment, climbing mountains until your stuffed – is that what you are looking for?
Have you any idea, do you really even care, or can you be bothered, or have you not even thought - about what it is that you are looking for?
A crazy path of twist and turns, experience's that burn, the thought has you churning - are you even game enough to think about the kind of person you may be looking for?
Take a chance, life’s too short, have some fun, to keep company, have good conversation, just hangin out , or to just be close to someone.
What ever it is – if you get the chance fill the gap and seek out what, or the kind of who you are looking for.....
Categories:
scruff, friendship, love, day,
Form:
Free verse
Manchester, born and bred, within a stone throw from the city centre
One of a family of nine kids and our mother as our mentor
In a place called Hulme, full of vagabonds and snot nosed scruff bags
Rope for belts, football boots with studs cut of as shoes and clothes of rags
Hulme was a hard place to grow, terraced housing, paved back yards and broken glass
The sound of gospel hung in the air as the black community attended daily mass
Sugar butties, porridge was the food we ate
No fatty Big Mac’s with salad-less salad on a false plastic plate
Trying to smash bottles that were laid out on top of a wall
From twenty or thirty yards with a cricket ball
Hopscotch, hula hoop, hide and seek were the games we knew
No X-box or computer games on the streets that we grew
There was social intercourse, chatter, friendship, warmth and love
Non of the Facebook, twitter, linked in and all that false stuff
Now the kids live in a pit of sole and isolation
As they tweet and twitter their nonsense across the nation
50, 000 face book friends they have never met, seen or knew
I wouldn’t swap what I had as a child
Would you?
Categories:
scruff, life,
Form:
Rhyme