Long Scrum Poems
Long Scrum Poems. Below are the most popular long Scrum by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Scrum poems by poem length and keyword.
But then I fear I may digress
Succumb to writings pained distress
Succumb to pressure in my chest
To shred what I think ain’t the best
Forsooth and poppy cock, I cry
And other words to plagiarize
I will succeed, I’ll win the prize
Cut those legends down to size
Alas, the phone and beepy things
Have me bouncing as if on springs
Emoji’s full of wordless stings
Laughing as the doorbell rings
The thoughts I think are sounding dumb
A never-ending Rugby scrum
My head is slightly out of plumb
I’m sitting here, my cheeks gone numb
Somewhere in the dark they bide
Lost amid a smoldering pride
Those simple truths that must reside
Between his Jekyll and his Hyde
Let’s go on the mother load road trip across continents skip
Even the hip can’t snip or pip the lip fillip of each sip or dip
A sybaritic not a critic’s tour to explore why more is more
Streets of beats galore & locavore treats an epicurean drip
In the Argentine bravado larder of course the empanada
From their mercado source with fine wine could try harder
Top of the poll Asado's charcoal soul to the song of cicada
Austrian fold in the past caught for foodies some sort of sport
They’ve fought over which Sacher torte does bewitch hold court
Or flattered the dish that mattered plattered crumbed & battered
Viennese wheeze a subpoena tease for a leaner schnitzel wiener
Lazing ease & grazing please on amazing spice isles in pyjamas
Laid back smiles made crack conch rice & peas in the Bahamas
Don’t give a damn about Claude Van Dam give me real mussels
Garlic specked not muscle flecked fraud whenever in Brussels
Snaffle waffles abroad should be crisp gooey as Belgians know
Elite frites oh and their stonker bonkers Wonka flair cocoa show
Brazil’s fill me to the gills thrill is still & always will be Feijoada
Even those in a posh off roader chose this nosh meat's Pagoda
Top of the steeple of food of the people a homegrown Skoda
Adore for any course a tour de Force encore honed toned Yoda
Canadian hardy foie gras machine a mardi gras that’s Arcadian
In the stirrup chirrup quaffing absurd maple syrup is Palladian
Nerds with their curds scoffing mean poutine almost Circadian
For rookies ducks pluck shells shuck bones suck cookies for luck
Opiner cuisine not in history stuck a mean memory mystery miner
Hymn of whim cough overcome by swim in broth Szechuan numb
Yummy unctuous darlings scrumptious diddly umptious dim sum
Ho hum no scrum finer all day diner always did come from China
Jittery glittery tree
A mouse ran up the Christmas tree
Scaring the life from the fairy
Cat did too, with dog in pursuit
'Twas a fiasco and quite hairy.
Fairy's heart raced seeing the chase
The dog bit the cat on the bum
The tree lights flashed, the tree it crashed
And cat had the mouse in a scrum.
Poor fairy flew off, nerves were shot
It wasn't how a Christmas should be
She cared not a jot for this lot
Her intention was to seek peace.
The lady of the house rushed in
To find what was making the din
Kids lovin’ home movie herein
Were sent to bed with a warnin'
Mother had to clear up the mess
While dad took the cat to the vet
Mouse ran away from the affray
Mice who have laughed last, laugh best.
6th December 2020
We’re all in the same boat, but fools make it sink:
I see their dreams translate to a sea of red ink
I felt I couldn’t take the sham any more
So I flew to Rhode Island and drove to the shore.
I chartered a vessel in an ocean inlet
For miles between Newport and Narragansett
The captain suggested a Calamari run
But squids are slimy and I was paying for fun.
The water was greased, smooth as a lake
And ten minutes out, I felt my reel take
I caught a “barn door”: a large fish with a pull:
I needed help, I had my hands full.
(bridge)
The “drags screamed” as other reels zoomed out
So I had to let my fish go, ashamed of my shout.
But I will tell my grandkids about the day:
a big bass almost yanked me into the bay.
Seagulls, like thieves, hovered over our wake.
White sails on silver; it made my heart ache.
I felt the beat of wavelets on fiberglass.
I smelled cedar and pine, sea air and sea grass
The sun got low, and the light danced like raves
Gold and violet hues met the islands and waves.
There were stars on the water when we tied to the dock
I sighed to myself; I must return to the flock.
Now I'm back in the scrum, some think I'm the threat.
It's sad how folks are caught in the net:
Some are hooked on politics, even dox your name.
As the vortex, the whirlpool, pulls us all down the drain.
Activists tell us that we're either victims or oppress
Misguided cliches weigh on my chest
They hook us with promises, I despair and yet,
They can't take away my Narragansett sunset.
I remember the islands, and Rhode Island main:
When the "bite was on fire," and I threw off the chain.
Engraved with harsh sound, each shackle's screech molested my eardrum,
Its starry silver, sparked oblivious wham into my heart, shattered like shard,
Rigorously, premature sweat hopped down to my forested beard,
Never! They can't let me loose again, as they gathered like a scrum.
Amid the encrusted iron on my encased cage,
My bendy fingers scratches till shallow hole,
Gallows way, full of groggy drops, I envision the woody pole,
Conscience before me, not my time, my death a sin to age.
Guilty of whatever, the judgement not from the creator,
I despised freedom in all form
Next world, I will buy a spaceship to carry law sector,
For, my time is over like a heavy storm.
Pity and pity me no more,
For, my journey a moral lesson in the folklore.
They wait in the night-lit brightness.
I watch them from an over-magnified telescope;
youngsters and older
some dripping a scent of latent maturity,
a furtive effort to blend and not offend
the judges
who have sly thoughts
in their searchlights eyes.
The bling, the gewgaw glints,
the small of fake gold,
the shot passions of high skirts.
They form ordained disorderly lines
eager to bow before the bouncer,
to pour themselves
into the melee and scrum
the jumping pump of ecstasy.
Night life is wanting, is waiting,
it needs to club together,
to sweat the music,
to throb with the sound
of aortic rhythmic impulses,
to dance upon a crushed floor
breathlessly offering upwards
their erotic prayers,
on baited hooks of desire.
The young must,
they simply must,
and we trust they will be tired one day,
too tired, too busy, too distracted
as we are
to dance death away
while drugs snack on their meat.
At the capitol rotunda
Two senators faced off on
Gun rights versus oversight
Each side bunkered in
Intractable, their way to win
Sharp tongued irate debate
Open thinking went kerplunk
Head to head, noses pressing
Like two rams rutting
One grabbed a neck
The other ruffled hair
Both leaned into a scrum
Onlookers aghast
Heavy breathing, jackets flung
Ties askew, faces flushed
Veins a popping
Fists were clenched, my heart pounding
Spit and foam tossed about
Two old mad dogs yelping
Spin left once, then spin right
Round and round these two locked
Like a chopper blade taking off
Leather shoes and legs flyin'
Scuffing on slippery rotunda floor
Lots have slithered across before
Muffled echoes off the walls
Don't think a punch was thrown
Guards ran in to break the spin
Pull the swirl apart
Just like a gooey sticky bun
'Cept it weren't no fun
Hands grasping foe to foe
Darts of insults still flashing
Reddened eyes, teeth gnashing
Heads adjoined they'd go
Caught their breath, stood up straight
Falling back into friendly hands
Mumbled shards yet flying
They walked away slumping
Like two Humpty Dumptys
Disheveled putting themselves together
Each insisting they were "kerrect"
With hastened breath
I saw it all unfold
Watchers shuffling in doubt
As they usually do
It was a war, weren't no spat
They'll never forget, count on that
See it all on the evening news
Did it change each other's views?
Can we ever talk civilly?
Common Ground is the Solution
So that was yesterday's kerfuffle
Adjudicated by muscle
A man gets killed by the police
in a most undeserving way,
we all see it and all agree
they were wrong, and will have to pay.
The president himself sees it
and then sends in the F.B.I.,
to figure out why this happened,
since such behavior cannot fly.
The cop who did it is locked up,
to face what verdict may be found,
and somehow people think this means
they should burn the whole city down?!
As if wanton destruction can
undue something already done?
As if hurting other people will
improve the world for everyone?
As if destroying your own jobs
2ill somehow make everything right?
And not just convince others to
distrust all of you at first sight?
And those criminal stereotypes
that people complain of all the time,
do you think arson and assault
will make those people change their minds?
Do you think people that you hurt
will say,”It’s justified,”when they bleed?
They did nothing to deserve this,
you’re just planting future hate’s seed.
The lefties types may support you,
but eventually, when this all fails,
do you think those politicos
will care much when you rot in jail?
And what of those in your neighborhoods
who seem homes and business destroyed?
You ruin a person’s life work
they’ll be more than a little annoyed.
Since most of these folks are you own,
your fathers, your mothers, your kin,
do you think destroying their lives
could ever somehow be a ‘win?’
You’re not fighting for justice here,
you're just violent, criminal scrum,
we all see you on the TV,
running around as if it’s just fun.
Did Martin Luther King loot towns
when faced with oppression far worse?
Would Jim Crow have been defeated
if he’d acted a violent jerk?
And when the big guns do come out,
you'll find yourselves well and truly f@#ked.
Nothing excuses what’s going down,
you rioters all truly suck.
Self quarantined misanthrope pitched into purgatory wham!
Ably cane resign eternal damnation (mine)
courtesy devil specially engraved telegram
prestidigitation found me vanishing shazam,
without a trace I disappeared in thin air voila
Earthly travails atop horns of dilemma ram
into me buttucks pitching yours truly ma'am
hoisted by my own petard sheepishly wool
ewe (red dully) bull heave human bug eyed
recalcitrant specimen (me) nonetheless lamb
basted skewered (think shish kabob) log jam
succinctly described helplessness to preserve
ultimately repurposed into green eggs and ham
harmless recluse no more valuable than flotsam.
Grant simple wish to withdraw into hermitage
coronavirus (COVID-19) just desserts we wage
us *****sapiens on trial across web world stage
severely misappropriating Earthly resources rage
understandable Gaia she pointedly reminds adage
inescapable comeuppance whereby our civilization
written off as atrocious, hellacious, malicious, page
poisonous primates essentially, dismally, yes clearly
bollixed, failed, leveraged, & tortured planet I gauge
hell in a handbasket ironic tragicomic fate wise sage
of yesteryear did prognosticate now we scurry hither
and yon, to and fro Smashing Pumpkins immortalize
metaphor likened each one of us as rat locked in cage
bajillion eons ago once upon a time our noble savage
ancestors levels playing field now new bacteriophage
relentlessly pits twenty first century civilization doles
microscopic organism (battling unseen enemy) voyage
around sun fraught tooth and nail powder milk biscuits
a Prairie Home Companion ruse buzzfeeding courage
for shy people (yours truly) communicating message,
albeit urgent to revamp paradigm to live social - nsync
with eco friendly coda allowing, enabling, & providing
liberty and justice for all living (colorful) things hostage
at mercy of self proclaimed superior beasts above average
with intelligence, yet rendering oblate spheroid garbage.
No major inconvenience incapacitates rather humdrum
bard (rarely bored), I wanna pitch headlong into scrum
no need to scream and shout, cuz I speak softly to mum
(Mother Earth) reassuring, she inevitably bests hoodlum
standing arrogant, boastful, deceitful comfortably numb
oblivious when day of reckoning delivers offal maelstrom.
They told you, "You deserve a speedy trial,
On you no scrum of jackals pile
They said you'd know each charge they bring,
And as for rights, every man a king.
They told you that your speech was free,
That you could choose your company.
Your home's your castle, safe and firm,
And you can keep what you can earn.
You believed that Karma's true
Built in the rules, silly you.
For government is not the only throne;
The crowd can have a heart of stone.
No judge need speak, no law be bent—
Your rights can die by mere consent.
In other spheres, rules not applied
The door to slavery is open wide.