Long Scrappy Poems
Long Scrappy Poems. Below are the most popular long Scrappy by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Scrappy poems by poem length and keyword.
Jumbled and distractedly jarred,
I awoke beside myself like a wraith,
a spectator to my primal confusion,
hamstrung by the goddess Chaos,
psychotic and frightfully broken.
Drifting through scrambled shrapnel,
a witness to my scrappy scrabble salads
chasing my fleeting thoughts.
I was an ineffectual phantom weeping
wounded windswept in the rain,
a helpless hapless harlequin of shadows
in perpetual refrain.
Months passed while doctors pondered me,
I compressed moments into kaleidoscopic disarray.
My immediacy overruled past and future; and
all spacial orientation collapsed. I watched my
decline like a desperate specter, never seeing
how I could exit my vertigo maze.
But as abrupt as it began, it inexplicably stopped.
I was engulfed by luminous morning,
A bystander to my maelstrom no longer,
I arose astonished in tearful release
to a world of deeper textures
and fevered passions,
to this world where I am no longer
beside myself.
Once there was a hideous troll,
With a broken nose made out of gold,
A glistening complexion, oily slick,
And scrappy hair that was made of sticks!
The Knights were sent on a mission,
To rid the Kingdom of this vision.
But she possessed a magical spell,
That would send her enchroachers straight to hell!
An army of fairies would join the fight,
To cleanse this Earth of such a fright, to make her right!
They would cover the beast with pixie dust,
Where the sticks would break and the untaintable metal would rust.
A princess to be was their goal,
But her black heart persisted; this gnarly troll.
All help they gave her, even rehearsed,
Simply made her ugliness worse!
Eventually, they would let her be,
Hidden in darkness by the nastiest of trees!
Words are swirling.
I want to write them down,
but even in my mind, tears blur the ink.
I think you'd understand.
You, the English professor,
the storyteller,
the Southern Gentleman at heart.
You, the naval officer prone to seasickness
who could talk to anyone,
out loud or on paper, without bias or ill-will.
I miss hearing you whistle as you walk
and the smell of your shaving soap.
I miss your infectious knee-slapping laughs
and your unmitigated love for jam.
I miss your stories, all of them,
about growing up in the South,
about your wise, kind-hearted mother,
and your dog, Scrappy.
I miss your rows and rows of books
and their dust and must and might,
and your love for Blake and Keats
and Alice Munro.
I miss knowing you're around, somewhere,
making the world better just by being there.
I miss the purity, the goodness
of your enormous heart.
I don't think I can describe it quite right,
but I'll try.
With your books on my shelf
and your words on my heart,
I'll try to convey
what an honour and blessing it has been
to call you Grandpa.
Choosing a favorite President is quite an arduous task
Given that most politicians usually wear a spurious mask,
but as a student of History, there was one that I admired;
" the scrappy kid from Kansas."* So many he has inspired.
In his biography there's a plethora of interesting information.
'Ike" was a 5 star general, besides leading this great nation.
A war hero, selected to be America's Commander and Chief.
A man of great integrity, who did not cause his country grief.
In his honor, a Washington Memorial was dedicated.
His bravery in war, and acts as President are celebrated.
After the war, he commanded European NATO forces
and overthrew communism from it's evil courses.
Voted U. S. President in 1952, with the slogan, "I Like Ike,"
Richard Nixon was his running mate; they were nothing alike.
In two terms served, he created a grand legacy for his name.
A President for the people, to him the office was not a game.
There are many valuable quotes that Eisenhower left behind
and I'll end with a few that I feel worthy for us to keep in mind;
none more appropriate than this one, I was happy to find...
"Some day there is going to be a man sitting in my present chair who has not been raised in the military services and who will have little understanding of where slashes in their estimates can be made with little or no damage. If that should happen while we still have the state of tension that now exists in the world, I shudder to think of what could happen in this country."
"The middle of the road is all of the usable surface. The extremes, right and left, are in the gutters."
"Leadership consists of nothing but taking responsibility for everything that goes wrong and giving your subordinates credit for everything that goes well."
"If a political party does not have its foundation in the determination to advance a cause that is right and that is moral, then it is not a political party; it is merely a conspiracy to seize power."
February 11, 2021
Your Favorite President Contest
Sponsored by: L Milton Hankins
*Inscribed on the Eisenhower Memorial
Arcane dearly loved institution really does make my blood boil
Clearly gravy train devotion yet still we don’t won't embroil
Confirm detest term “the firm” just makes me squirm and recoil
Handshakes from rakes on the take.. insane destitution we toil
Incest selection we suggest a contest like may be an election?
They josh oh golly gosh this tosh the Constitution didn't foil
Nation's fascination with wally Charles the Turd's coronation
Herd with this absurd have a word off their trolley veneration
No defection as the loyals' protection ensure all the spoils
Girth of their worth pilfered from serf & turf since birth oils
Even Randy Andy or scrappy snappy Harry can’t seem to soil
Kibosh posh arseholes nepotistic trolls on the Monarchy dole
End this whole sick rigmarole..Republic for each prole the goal
No parry views & news.. carry on as "Happy as Larry" crappy Royals
Mine Impossible Self Educating Mission...
Finds muss elf facing Lenovo
(external Macbook
Pro screen) whoosh'n
with all manner
of thoughts cascading,
flowing and swoosh'n
thru ma mind like
yoyo wing thoughts,
whether right now
aboot me late Russian
maternal grandfather,
who made a
lasting imp Prussian
though whose departure
more'n deuce
score years ago,
nonetheless left
many a question
on me boyhood
memory, no matter
he predominantly talked
Yiddish with smidgen
of English peppering conversation
with scant sprinkling of
Anglo Saxon known to him
despite crossing ocean
as a scrappy young lad,
(and hightailing to America
as a possible stowaway)
for some notion
never told, hence I prevaricate
whipping oop tall tales
courtesy magic potion
of spellbinding words,
not the least bit concerned
freely falsifying any quotation,
cuz no paper trail
extant for citation,
nor other medium survived
attesting to birth family
of said relation
Morris (Moishe) Kuritsky,
his near half century ago
passing into oblivion,
sans after major life mission
emigrating to Ellis Island
bing faux scion of
attending sewing spool
as self taught
harried styled swift tailor
finding goo goo
doll young bride
(eighteen Earth orbitz
round the sun his junior),
she died during her late 50's
(during early nineteen sixties)
attributed to poor nutrition,
which definitely aggravated
by poor dentition
tooth fully, not
fondly remembered for
doting o'er my mama
(the last born)
as favored offspring
at psychological expense
for beastly crush'n
life source of two eldest daughters.
GOODLUCK
Gutless muffled monarch wooed millions to the poll,
Oozing pathetic speech of poverty (I once had no shoes)
On congruent grounds we let him, though we hated his coterie.
Disappointed, we wail, waiting substitute to end the reign of quack
Lacklustre, insipid and a pervading naivety.
Unvaried captain rocks this boat, gagged by plunderers.
Circles of death, twinge, miseries the reign of a drab creek king
Kleptocracy adorning imposition,
EBELE
Embezzlers on rampage, holes bequeathed for pillaging.
Bandits as conniving ministers besmirched obtuse scamp
Egregious craven shrieked at the sound of war “I am not a lion”.
Laggard lumper loon left fanatical murderers at our doorsteps
Encumbrances from delinquent clan divide the love for mother land
DAME
Damp squib's duchess & indecent tongue, devoid of restraint
Audacious domestic appendage ferrying funds
Merriment and intrigue feigned as obligations,
Edgy. encumbrance though ceaselessness forms their amity.
PATIENCE
Punk pretending and purloining to private vaults.
Adventurous nerve for futile globe -trot.
Twitchy at state's affairs though never elected.
Intoxicated by serendipity, shaming all with activity.
Euphemistic drama, Scrappy curiosity with comedy.
National dilemma by decorated buffoons.
Crude verbiages to amuse eggheads “my Fellow widows”
Encomium of approval turned sour “Power” the pipe for thieves.
JONATHAN
Jokers jostled in enthusiasm to rule, (politicking )
Onslaught from 'Boko-Haram' drove sleep from wearied countrymen
Numbed as "hoipolloi echoed NO to mistimed removal,
Alas, the fraud, rapscallion looting Criminals Lords over us
Tyranny cloaked garbs, creek professor without a thesis.
Higgledy-piggledy a travesty called democracy.
Amidst the rubble of a crumbling amalgam,
Nigerian Lords watched the drama secured, while we die helpless
O furry one,
our faithful friend-
we thought you'd be here
to the end
or at the least,
a few years more
so many places
unexplored
So many squirrels
left unchased
you left a painful
empty place
inside our home
inside our hearts
without you dear
we cannot start
to set aside
these memories
our hopes and dreams
of what would be
When times were hard
we sacrificed
for toys and treats
whatever price...
We bought a house
small and confined
with massive yard
with you in mind
and when we moved
a thousand miles
you rode along
and made us smile
We worried o'er your
doggy morale...
and wondered whether
you'd make new pals-
but it seems our fears
were quite unfounded-
for into the neighborhood's
heart you bounded
and making your scrappy,
sassy debut
you made ALL fall
in love with you!
And on the very
night you died-
old dogs howled
and grown men cried
'Though life goes on
we just cannot
some memories
cannot be forgot-
your playfulness
your full devotion
drown us in our
own emotion
our furry child
now laid to rest,
two sad love-birds
in empty nest
Defiant are shards of dirt which particle apart
Never to know their neighbouring flakes,
Not integrating, no squish of accompanyment
Forlorn separates which support not life, nothing
Beneath rangy weeds, breeze blows loose granules
Shifted without resistance,
foreign adjacent land is theirs temporarily
Only for necessity, proximity is parallel, merge free
Neediness discarded, only Heaven can help dead dirt
Because the moments spent observing a scrappy tree
Beside withering leaves has hard expanding pears
Held by delving stem, fed, assisted, nutrient found
Show me expired soil needs nourishment
Requires deeply dug roots, intrusion, rooster boost
Sand blown syndrome suppresses realisation
Instinct drives attempt to be cleansed and extend
23rd January
This dirt hurts
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Rugged
Kansas prairie
Her hands rough with dawn tasks
His fingers trace Braille on table
Austere
Schoolhouse
ink and sweat smell
of small hands learning Braille~
a language pressed on waiting skin.
Alive.
Fifteen
Scrappy children
Clarabel, Dulce, John~
syllables hauled up* from the well
sweat, tears
Drought years
Calluses, sweat,
Stiff-backed, and obstinate
Heavy with weight of wheat and words
Courage.
At dusk,
they counted heads
and sang hymns of harvest~
Only thirteen grew tall as wheat.
Strength, faith
*hauled up from the well refers to both a physical action of rescue as well a metaphorical expression of support or accountability.