Long Scram Poems

Long Scram Poems. Below are the most popular long Scram by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Scram poems by poem length and keyword.


Camptown Races Or Eh, That's a Joke, Son!

"Camptown Races sing this song, Do Dah! Do Dah!"
( sung incessantly by a certain, unique rooster.)

Henry Hawke: ( Sung to Holly Jolly Christmas:)
" I'll be there and back by sunset.
  There's a chicken there for me!
  Mom and Dad will be proud, you bet!
  when a chicken, they'll see!"

Henry: ( Sung to Arkansas Traveler:)
" I think that there's a chicken, yes, indeed!
  No need to check, that's a chicken, yes, siree!
  I know that that's a chicken , yes, indeed!
  Even though he has a snout for pecking at the seed!"

POW! ( cue woozy music.)

Barnyard Dog:
Hey, wait a minute, kid!
Have you flipped your lid!"

Henry:
" I hit you a good one and I'm the winner!
  Now come along with me! You're what's for dinner!"

Barnyard Dog:
" Eh, kid.. I'm a dog, don't you get it!
  Now, scram! Before I make you regret it!"

" Camptown races, sing this song..
  I say , I say.. it's not the words,
  son, it's the song
  It kind of.. eh, moves me along, err.."

Henry: 
" Oh, the shame!
  The family name!
  Life for me will never be the same!"

Barnyard Dog:
" Someone's given you the bum steer!"
He looks at Henry crying.
" Kind of gets you right here..
  Tell ya, what, kid!
  I'll give you a real clucker with all the feathers!
  Now listen to me, the sooner the better.." Pss. psst. pss..

"Camptown Races, Uhh, oh, I say, I say..
 What do we have here?!
 An unholy alli, alli alli, joining together.
 and the word is ..Beware!"
 I say, son!
 What are, what are you doing here
 in my little slice of paradise?!"

Henry:
"Ehh, Mister Cock-a-Doodle Doo..
 I'd turn around if I were you!"

"Heh, heh heh..
Obviously, this boy believes
that I was born yesterday
if not the day before!
Let me lead him on a little more.."

"Just what am I supposed to see, there, ehh, son?
The rising moon? The setting sun? Heh, Heh, Heh.."
BAM!
"I, I, I think I've been way layed.
I, I, better look for some shade.."
PLOP!
"That boy's got more nerve than a bum tooth!
ehh, that's a joke, son!
Miss Prissy! My my time has come too soon!"
Eeee, THUD!
Henry and Barnyard Dog( together.):
"Geez, What a maroon!"
Cue the Looney Tunes end music.
(" Eer.. That's your cue, son!")
" Can't find no good cartoon help these days!" THUD!
 
THAT'S ALL FOLKS!


Premium Member Spontaneity

Line of inquiry from Unseeking Seeker:

"discarding narrow thought flow crutch
we learn directly by soft touch
and what we garner we relay
to the vast void in childlike play
entwined thus with the universe
we dance without need to rehearse"
_______________________________________________

Ahhh, Spontaneity!  How wonderful it is.
It separates adults from children more often than not.
It’s that magical quality which often seems to me
that some people in their older age simply have forgot!

Spontaneity . . . Maybe it’s the essence of authenticity
when you can be yourself and say exactly what you think.
Maturity can keep us from being much too blunt,
yet spontaneity can be subtle like a winsome wink.

Spontaneity . . .Imagine yourself when young.
How easily you laughed; how happily you simply played.
Sadly, it’s not that way for kids from homes of terror,
yet I hope that most of us recall impulsiveness we once displayed.

Did you hop onto your bike, riding anywhere without a care?
Did you ever jump into a pond where tadpoles swam -
trying to catch them while cupping them in your small hands?
Did you grab an apple off a neighbor’s tree, then have to scram?

Did you play with tiny cars or trucks, causing them to crash?
Did you pretend your doll was you and then converse
with your best friend’s dolly as if that doll were her?
Did you make up little plays you never did rehearse?

I did all those things and more. It was a different time.
I could run, play ball, and all through town I’d roam
with friends or siblings. How we laughed and had such fun.
It was not till darkness fell we even would go home.

Today kids have to be more careful, yet I see them play
showing  imagination like when as a child I did.
Were you like me, and do you ever dream about today
those fascinating things that you dreamed of as a kid?

Unfortunately as adults, we have a lot of rules.
Rule are necessary, but we must not let
the rigidity of them replace the joy of having fun.
The inner child in all of us we must not forget.

Spontaneity . . . Reclaim what you may have lost.
Calm your mind; lighten up; laugh and smile more.
Embrace creative thinking; be as honest as you can.
The child inside of you is one you never should ignore!
fun
Form: Rhyme

The Wreck On Gastons Hill

I watched as the old train chugged heavily up the hill.
   Puffing and puffing the smoke completely shadowing J. Gastons’ saw and 
paper mill.
Then I saw what looked to be another train coming down from around the bend.
    Some one needed to stop them but what kind of message could I send.
The one going up the hill was still chugging slow while the other was running full 
gear.
   Well I started shouting to the top of my lungs but no one could hear.
I knew what was fixing to happen and I couldn’t bear to look.
    Then I heard the awful sound of crashing metal as they both fell tangled into 
Gastons Brook.
It was a good half a mile I ran hoping somehow I could maybe help or lend a 
helping hand.
    The site when I arrived was more than I could stand.
I don’t think there could be any survivors they went in the deepest part right next to 
the dam.
    The water was icy cold and there came old Cooter being pulled by his old dog 
that they called Go On Scram.
Well I got down to the shore and helped pull Cooter to dry land.
    He looked fairly good except you could see he broke his hand.
I asked him if he thought anybody else might still be alive.
    He said I don’t see how anybody in the front could possibly survive.
I got a fire a going and tried to get him warm.
    I knew the townfolk would be coming cause I heard the church bell ring its 
alarm.
Here comes Jackie Collins followed by Dr. Lemuel White.
   Well he set Old Cooters hand right there on the site.
We helped him up to Doc Whites surrey and they drove him back to the old 
depot.  
    And he hollered to me to find Go On Scram before I was to go.
Well I found Old Scram at the waters shore.
    I called to him but I’m afraid Old Scram can’t hear me anymore.
I picked him up and carried him all the way back to old Coot.
    Coot asked me if I’d help bury him down by the track, said Scram loved to hear 
that ole whistle toot.
We said goodbye to old Scram that night.
     Sixty five years later and I still see that frightful sight. 
Well that’s the story that happened there down by Gastons mill.
     The wreck that I can’t forget that happened on that hill.
    
R.R.Bingham
Form: Narrative

A Swim In the Dam

The sun baked down on our Karoo town
It is dryer than dry; not a cloud in the sky.
No one in the street.
Nothing moves in that heat.

It is the end of the school holidays
Nothing to do; too hot to play,
Except to swim in the farmer’s dam;
Hoping we will not be told to scram
Before we can dive in
For that cooling swim.

Down the road, through the fence
We laugh, with naughty jubilance.
Through the bush, to the dam
Excitedly we run.
Shirts and pants off in a flash
Into the water, we dash and splash.

But happy times must end too soon.
As we walk home in late afternoon
There is a snarl, there is a growl
Two Dobermans are on the prowl 

They block our path from front and back
Preparing for attack.
Our only hope, to turn and flee
In the distance, a single tree

We do not wait, we spin around
And race across the open ground
They catch up quickly and try to bite
As we scream out wildly on our frightened flight

The moment sharp teeth sink into my thigh
I know I am going to die.
My flesh is ripped,
To the bone is stripped

I stumble, I fall
I try to crawl.
Blood pours onto the dusty sand.
I am alone, not a helping hand.

Why?
Why me?
Why is this happening to me?
I am too young to die.

Brutal teeth are the last I see
As they clamp, and tear though my eyeballs.
Then darkness, I am blind

I scream in terror at my plight
At every crunching sound, at every painful bite
I can smell the stench from jaws as they rip
And taste the salt of blood from my torn off lips

Strong paws claw.
Jaws grind, chew, and gnaw
My flesh with fierce ferociousness.
I drift in and out of consciousness

There is no bottom to the dark depth of my despair
I cannot move or see, but only feel and hear
The chewing, crunching teeth on bone
And feel the helpless fear that overcomes, now hope is gone

Will this gnawing never cease?
Please God kill quickly, give me peace.

The pain is neither here, nor there
But everywhere
Yet, I do not care.
I know, that only when I am dead, the pain will cease.
Only then, will there be peace.

Slowly it comes.
Life’s agonising light turns into the darkness of night.
The snarls become a song. Soft music in the air
A world without care.
Then I am gone

Revenge of the Cunning Linguist

Folks think I'm a 
nice guy, to a fault I 
guess I am, if those 
folks only knew 
deep down I'm tellin 
them to scram,

I'm tryin to keep my 
language clean like 
crispy Franklin 
notes, I am The 
Cunning Linguist 
spittin nifty 
antidotes,

that cross you up 
the Hardaway and 
leave ya ankles 
broke, hot feces 
exits out my mouth, 
I got a stanky throat,

that exhales dragon 
fire but believe this 
aint a roast, there's 
too much jumpin off 
and I'm afraid it aint 
a joke.

Like women 
nowadays, I often 
wonder if it's me, 
that sees how 
some are free to 
divvy up the wizard 
sleeve,

then they don't 
know just how they 
came to get the 
HIVV disease, deny 
and keep it sweet 
to give it up to Pete 
and Steve.

I get up on my 
soapbox when I 
have to drop a 
jewel, the niceness 
gets mistaken like I 
still won't drop a 
fool,

for comin outta 
pocket, I aint talkin 
poppin tools, I let 
go of the knowledge 
cause this dude 
can drop it smooth.

I'm Harry Belafonte 
but don't call me 
Mr. Tibbs, this 
poetry just flows in 
me and what a gift 
it is,

you may not think 
my skill's correct 
but I insist it is, I'm 
so unlike the 
others, verbis not 
ipissimis.

Confused on what 
that means? Well I 
advise you look it 
up, vernacular's like 
stir-fry in a wok; I 
cook it up,

and dish out 
healthy servings, I 
won't let your brain 
cells starve, in 
executing verbal 
warfare, yes I am 
well armed.

My aim will blow ya 
head off like Bin 
Laden, picture that, 
the YouTube vids 
and image will 
confirm this vicious 
fact,

don't need Marines 
and choppers flying 
into distant lands, 
I'll do you like Waist 
Deep but they won't 
find the missing 
hand. 

My adjectives are 
ravenous but that's 
just certain ones, 
my scarface 
resonates of how I 
kill these words for 
fun,

to crush the 
competition and I 
do it big like Pun, 
then ride off in a 
Matrix, Cunning 
Linguist, I'm The 
One.
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Short Poem Collection

1. Apollo's Radiance

Find me not in the hollow
A dream is a dream is a dream
Find me among the trees and follow
In the sunlight I follow the gleam
Reality is difficult to swallow
So I found peace with Apollo

2. Discovery

It was a discovery to discover me
My soul was lost in the art of words
I found my heart in the golden sea
Dancing with the lovely birds
To discover me is to set me free
And love was the only key

3. Wisdom And Wit

I amuse myself with wisdom and wit
Do not tarry or dance around the truth
My intelligence could a king befit
Built from the struggles of a troubled youth
But you'll see I'm not without merit
I've survived worse with egregious grit

4. Magic Everywhere

Imagine a world with magic
Where dreams came true
That it is only a dream is truly tragic
But I found magic in my muse
A bevy of colors create a fabric
And a lovely world of magic

5, Courage In Fear

It is not weakness to feel fear
Only a fool fights instinct
In the gloom we despair what we hear
That which is indistinct
And when it draws near
It's okay to feel fear

6. True Persona

Long have I shunned who really I am
Out of fear I will bring them shame
But who I display is just a sham
Nothing will ever be the same
When I show who I really am
They'll probably tell me to scram

7. Mr. Obama

Sometimes I really miss Mr. Obama
Those eight years went by fast
I'm tired of the fear mongering and drama
And those who ignore the past
With courage I will fight this trauma
And fight Trump in honor of my mama

8. Workplace Woes

These days I deal with workplace woes
By sharing memes and rhymes
I could count every woe on my toes
In these increasingly uncertain times
And I've dealt with the highs and lows
It clearly shows in my prose

Note: I wrote these thinking they were Cinquains only to realize I was doing it wrong. Anyway I figured I'd just post them all here as one collection!

Upside Down Kids Talking Inside Out

TING means “thing” said she who masquerades as my niece with the tongue stud and nose ring. 
We used to put them in our ear, now they put them anywhere
BRAH is new for “bro” and does not have to be of your blood
Normal requirements would be a pit bull, mountain bike and hood
YOLO, now this one got me at first but after a minute
My niece stated that It means “you only live once” innit
BEEF easy, something you eat with veg and a roast spud
Nope, its full blown Armageddon and he's after your blood
BOUNCE means to go, scram, leave, nothing to do with up and down
I’m bouncing man, I'm off, gonna hit the town
Butters, she is butters man, nice fit body but ugly mush with no desire
We used to say you don't look at the mantle piece when you are poking the fire
HENCH, body building broadness, with or without the need of a gym
But if you don't lift the weights or drink the glucose protein, then stay forever slim
DENCH, relating to girls, cool, nice, fit, pretty, awesome, even a bit slow
I wouldn't mind giving her one, once or twice, what say you BRO
SWAG or be a SWAGGER is, self with egotistic attitude and pose
We have all met them and they get right up your nose
LEGEND is one who has done something "sick"  which means "cool" at school
Like pouring Hydrochloric acid on a stool or pissing in the pool
JARRING not as some think, like pickling onions or even jam
Its your getting in my face and your gonna get a SLAM, which at a hunch is a punch
BOOM, is losing in a verbal battle, your argument has hit the floor
There are millions of them but I will give you just one more
OWNED is when someone has bored the ballocks of you all day with some shite story that just got worsen 
Then you retaliate with a really cool one which means you own that person
DENCH! hey
© John Scott  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Got No Feeling

Oh, since that day, I’ve been done with your games,
I’ve been done with your games, so tired,
left me in pain, and in courtrooms insane,
took half of my gains, you liar,

Now you just want to come back,
think it’ll all be a snap,
life’s just a lark, you were playing the part,
but woman I see through the trap.

I’m still reeling,
I got no feeling,
I got no feeling
for you to—
I’m still feeling,
I got no feeling,
I got no feeling,
for you to—
I’ve wasted so many days,
not what you want me to say,
but, I’m still reeling,
I got no feeling,
I got no feeling
for you today.

Showing up here, and it all becomes clear,
and you just appear, so entitled,
showing no fear, and thinking that it’s weird
that I shut the door, call you vile.

I’m not a part in your play,
life just doesn’t work that way,
nothing but strife when I called you a wife,
out of my life you will stay!

I’m not dealing,
I got no feeling,
I got no feeling
for you to—
I’m not dealing,
I got no feeling,
I got no feeling,
for you to—
I’ve wasted so many days,
not what you want me to say,
but, I’m not dealing,
I got no feeling,
I got no feeling
for you today.

Go away now or the cops will come down,
yes the cops will come down, so just scram,
not those breasts proud, and your eyes soft and round,
have no hold on me now, so get damned.

Peace means more to me than sex,
so you can go and get wrecked,
find another fool for all your cheating cruel,
I need no heal on my neck!

Stop your squealing,
I got no feeling,
I got no feeling
for you to—
Stop your squealing,
I got no feeling,
I got no feeling,
gor you to—
I’ve wasted so many days,
not what you want me to say,
quit your squealing,
I got no feeling,
I got no feeling
for you today.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Swarming For Global Warming

In the middle of the Universe, I stand 
Geared up to continue our deed
And since from our native planet, we have been banned
The two of us carry on at light speed

Zirck and I traveled afar from an orb called, Quoll
Where our planet has turned cold as ice
See, we couldn’t burn any more wood, oil, or coal
Due to our leader’s fake science advice

We looked over new galaxies for what it’s worth
For a planet that could share some spare heat
That’s when we were told about planet earth
That’s not as cold as our big old ice sheet

We traveled ten light years to the Milky Way
And saw earth had lots of spaceships swarming
We had no other choice than to join the fray
To absorb some of earth’s global warming

While at once I noticed that I stopped shivering
Zirck the sharp genius, hacked a satellite
Thus we observed the news they were delivering
And heard CNN state: earth just isn’t right

We learned that the U.S. wanted to stop burning
So that I said, “Great, here we go again.”
One more planet worried about comfy warming
And we knew what they’d propose, but when?

The next thing that we heard was an urgent report
Which we figured lacked all common sense
It was: since humans ate too much beef and pork
Their ozone was failing due to flatulence

Zirck thought we should tell the naïve people on earth
That global warming is just a huge scam
Made by greedy leaders who want to tax your worth
For carbon dues, while they buy jets and scram

Remember when gazing up at the starry sky
There may be aliens in mourning
For they’ve already endured that pilfering lie
Made by their leaders about global warming. 


For In the middle of the Universe, I stand contest
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Gifts of the Night

Faint stillness of the night falls swiftly down 
and masked raccoons now pillage darkest night. 
Fluffed owls with sparkling eyes are flying free 
and rabbits, gently moving, sniff the air... 
The hounds - from hunter lost - do bay and whine! 
Marked deer with spots or racks go pawing trails 
and bear cubs ramble near a sparkling stream. 
Uncommon moths blink near the lights outside 
and possums scramble up the hillside earth. 
Soft light of moon obscures the beauty there 
and adds romance to this nocturnal scene. 
Amid the forest’s trees of pine and oak, 
these charms display the gift of God’s design! 

Faint STILL-ness OF the NIGHT falls SWIFT-ly DOWN
and MASKED rac-COONS now PIL-lage DARK-est NIGHT
Fluffed OWLS with SPARK-ling EYES are FLY-ing FREE
and RAB-bits, GEN-tly MOV-ing, SNIFF the AIR
The HOUNDS, from HUN-ter LOST, do BAY and WHINE
Marked DEER with SPOTS or RACKS go PAW-ing TRAILS
and BEAR cubs RAM-ble NEAR a SPARK-ling STREAM
Un-COM-mon MOTHS blink NEAR the LIGHTS out-SIDE
and POS-sums SCRAM-bles UP the HILL-side EARTH
Soft LIGHT of MOON ob-SCURES the BEAU-ty THERE
And ADDS ro-MANCE to THIS noc-TURN-al SCENE
a-MID the FOR-est’s TREES of PINE and OAK
these CHARMS dis-PLAY the GIFT of GOD’S de-SIGN

©by Regina Riddle
Written on July 29, 2014
Re-written for contest on July 30, 2014
Re-written twice for contest on July 31, 2014 – with LOTS of help from 
sponsor and much thanks to Roy Jerden
For: For Newer Poets: An Exercise in Iambic Pentameter - Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Roy Jerden

I deliver newspapers at night on a rural route and see all of these nocturnal 
creatures along my journey… the origins of the poem.

Get a Premium Membership
Get more exposure for your poetry and more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry

Member Area

My Admin
Profile and Settings
Edit My Poems
Edit My Quotes
Edit My Short Stories
Edit My Articles
My Comments Inboxes
My Comments Outboxes
Soup Mail
Poetry Contests
Contest Results/Status
Followers
Poems of Poets I Follow
Friend Builder

Soup Social

Poetry Forum
New/Upcoming Features
The Wall
Soup Facebook Page
Who is Online
Link to Us

Member Poems

Poems - Top 100 New
Poems - Top 100 All-Time
Poems - Best
Poems - by Topic
Poems - New (All)
Poems - New (PM)
Poems - New by Poet
Poems - Read
Poems - Unread

Member Poets

Poets - Best New
Poets - New
Poets - Top 100 Most Poems
Poets - Top 100 Most Poems Recent
Poets - Top 100 Community
Poets - Top 100 Contest

Famous Poems

Famous Poems - African American
Famous Poems - Best
Famous Poems - Classical
Famous Poems - English
Famous Poems - Haiku
Famous Poems - Love
Famous Poems - Short
Famous Poems - Top 100

Famous Poets

Famous Poets - Living
Famous Poets - Most Popular
Famous Poets - Top 100
Famous Poets - Best
Famous Poets - Women
Famous Poets - African American
Famous Poets - Beat
Famous Poets - Cinquain
Famous Poets - Classical
Famous Poets - English
Famous Poets - Haiku
Famous Poets - Hindi
Famous Poets - Jewish
Famous Poets - Love
Famous Poets - Metaphysical
Famous Poets - Modern
Famous Poets - Punjabi
Famous Poets - Romantic
Famous Poets - Spanish
Famous Poets - Suicidal
Famous Poets - Urdu
Famous Poets - War

Poetry Resources

Anagrams
Bible
Book Store
Character Counter
Cliché Finder
Poetry Clichés
Common Words
Copyright Information
Grammar
Grammar Checker
Homonym
Homophones
How to Write a Poem
Lyrics
Love Poem Generator
New Poetic Forms
Plagiarism Checker
Poetry Art
Publishing
Random Word Generator
Spell Checker
What is Good Poetry?
Word Counter