Scooting Poems | Examples

The Shooting Star

Deep in the village, far from city's charm and gleam,
Primitive childhood days, with toys of mud we’d dream,
Swinging on tall tree branches, our airplanes up the skyways,
Butt scooting down the anthills, our high-end cars on highways.

Once a moonlit night so clear, with dazzling constellations afar
Would unveil a gem so rare, the SHOOTING STAR,
The stellar herald, our surest destiny's bearer,
That carried our dreams, through heavens' mirror.

We believed, if to this celestial magic, you spoke your wishes,
Assuredly, your future dreams would come true, even riches,
But only while the brief light streak shone, could wishes find their way,
Once gone from view, chance lost, 'til next uncertain day.

"I want to be a pilot!" one would exclaim,
"I wish to be a doctor!" another would acclaim,
"I'll be a president!" a soul would declare,
Wishes rolled as swift, as the star's radiant flare.

Today we're of age, the dreamed future's here and now,
The city’s beauty familiar, cars and planes are real, avow,
In our dreams, we still believe, hope gleams on our brow,
Ready to embrace our destiny, oh shooting star, where art thou?

Drama In the Kitchen

I spot him scooting along the dining room sideboard
    Twitching all over, he peers into the kitchen
  Cautiously, he advances a step or two
     then he pulls up, looks around, sniffs the air... 

  Continues, moving within easy range of my broom
     poised to whack him senseless
  One more step, you feeble rodent...
     Ha! Your guts are coming out of your mouth

Dispatch To Driver

Monday- Mind those that are walking and who concentrate on talking.

Tuesday- Watch those that are cycling, they avoid puddles to try and keep their bike clean.

Wednesday- Look for those that are running, some of them do look quite stunning.

Thursday- Beware of those that are scooting, they go quite fast no matter what their route is.

Friday- The same as every day gone past, the one special rule, is make sure you get them all safely to school.

First Day of School

School is in session, and we are all spiffed with shine.
Our hair is slicked back, we are scooting in free and fine.
Laughter is prominent as we see our school friends once again.
By two-thirty we are clock-watching, will this day ever end?

The Tale of the Gingerbread Man

I had heard of a gingerbread house, but a gingerbread mouse?
This story was told to me by a liar, a scoundrel, a louse.
The gingerbread mouse was living in a cracker box – Ritz.
If anyone shook it, he would come out and have many fits.

He was determined to stay in there until Christmas day.
But the chili-eating family kept scooting the crackers away.
They had been his hiding place, and he was angry at them.
He bit one of their fingers on Tuesday, a kid name of Jim.

My Vocabulary Is Scooting Up

My vocabulary is scooting up like a weed
    in a as-fault jungle
  I mean, it's so incredulous how many
    unhackneyed words I've cognized

  lately... So I'm going to give me a standing ovulation
    and throw it up for me, mice elf, and aye ~
  my pronounces, jic* you haven't guessed yet ~
    Can I take my leaf now and do the splitsvilles? 



  ____________________________________________ 
  * 'jic' = just in case

Torrential Rain

Hubble bubble toil and trouble
I have water on the brain
The continuous flooding
It is driving us all insane
Rivers are overflowing
So are dams and creeks
Farmers are not sowing
And losing their cattle and sheep,
Streets have turned into rivers
Caused by torrential rain
The stress causes shivers
As it starts to pour again
Trees are uprooting
And crashing, causing harm
Dingy and boats are scooting
To stranded homes and farms
Vehicles and cars are left on the road,
Waiting for the rain to stop,
So they can be towed
To dry land, when they can find a spot,
Houses no longer liveable
It is unforgivable
Nature in the raw
What has this happened for?
Can somebody explain?
It has caused too much consternation,
Financial worries, ills and pain.

Giving Daddy Mouse a Hard Time

They were jumping and scooting and sliding on their rear.
It’s mama! One squeaked, and they stopped in middle of high gear.
Daddy was glad, for he was ready to read from a story book.
False alarm! One said, and they jumped up giving him a sly look.

They were using their bed as a trampoline, having a wonderful time.
Daddy tried to get them to settle down, offered them a dollar, a dime.
Just then their sly mother stuck in her curious radar of a head.
Why in the world, she asked the daddy, are these mice not in bed?

Keep Your Mouth Shut

She brought her alien sidekick to the cafeteria.
The rest of the sophomores gave them room.
Scooting out of the way, wondering what talents the sidekick had.
Just keep your mouth shut, she told the sidekick.
As long as they think you are an alien, the teachers will let you stay.
She had actually sprung her little sister from kindergarten.
Teachers did not dare say anything about an alien visiting.
It would not have been politically correct.

Longingly Hankering

yearning 
              of ritual
      lethargic 
      in thunderstorm

      through 
     huge chasm 
   of window&
   watching 
   sky 
darkened &
drizzle 
dropping &
  gust 
howling 
 non-stop

yet stipulating
 coldness 
  within
  intimacy&
      a glimpse 
charming 
 longing 
for flowers 
blooming 
   rooting in 
    womb

 relishing 
drafting
  sun and moon

      elysian fields 
     of yesteryear
   & blue oceans
 crave 
scooting
 & 
alleging  
   obsession
    musings
    notification
  compelling

1St place contest winner

Written: August 1st, 2022

A Brian Strand Premiere Choice Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand

NOTE:THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE   using spaces&breaks without grammatical symbols ,the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and responds thus making this enigmatic form a two way interplay & interpretatIon unique to the moment& changing according to mood is inherently variable.

Blue Feet

Blue feet,
               Two feet,
Scooting through my rug.
               First foot down,
               Wiggle toes around.
               Second foot down,
               May we go to town?

                Little blue feet,
                Go put on your shoes!
                First foot stamps,
                Second foot joins the dance.
                 Stamp!
                 Stamp!
Sounds like they have to stay around.

                   Little blue feet,
                   Running across my rug.
                   First foot shuffles into a shoe.
                   Second foot shuffles into a shoe.
Off to town, the looooong way around.

In Your Absence

my lips brush your fingertips
long after your departure
your place next to me
awaits my embrace
as I bask in your aura
scooting closer to make contact
startling a blackbird at the window

tracing you onto a foggy pane of glass
I submerge myself in your image
placing a kiss on your pert nose
breathing your warm, sensual gardenia scent
    laced throughout your ivory damask sweater
    cradled in my arm as if a newborn

the dark bird, steward of my recollections, returns
?memories surge, spreading emotive warmth
    from my core outward
I tighten my hold on your garment, pressing
      my cheek against the creamy soft fibers
snuggling with your fragrance infused shadow
wanting you to brush away wet trails on my cheeks

tomorrow unveils a new day
its skin bursting with possibilities
such as the blackbird returning
?beak filled with nesting materials
hope arrives with the dawn
even as gloom flees my arms

Morning's Broken Armor

Morning’s Broken Armor
by Sy Roth

 
Squeaky crawls the moon’s light

Falling briskly against the chinks in the window

Uneasy sleep

A voluble accompaniment to

An out-of-work cello.

 

Scooting, crawly insects beat against it

With a frenzy of scrawled brevity

Tattooed on its soft shell.

 

Horns bleat somewhere in the inky distance.

Town criers bellowing news to a somnolent brain.

 

Alternatives roll away from eyes

Cemented closed with a.m.’s dream glue

And the clinkety-clank of Sir Gawain’s armor

Makes its way into the room.

Declaring additional valid seconds

Feet flopping like pimpled pancakes ready for turning

To the cold floor

The morn ready to mourn another day.

Right

Right 
where the road ends
rests a house
there 		is Rosa, sunrosed,
			is love, trust, life
A coffee in the morning
right before	marching the roadworks
			scooting the schoolbus
right like the hands of the clock.


Right
where the road ends
stays a mill
here 			my dogs, suninked,
		 	flowers, poems, life
A lot of coffee in the morning
right before 	storms set in
			minds settle down
right when	the thief of plants and apples arrives.


At two, cotton candy clouds
over a volcano that will always wink
at 			your grandson, curling up with gran 
			your grandgirl, herding goats with gramps 
Your roots stay in this village
right 
where your family eats your bread. 



At five, we will meet
where the typhoons twirl the desert sand
there		is coffee,
			cigarette smoke 
Mine in my world 
right  		
where we live.

Who Is Sychophatic

We are sycophantic T12 said, scooting closer.
Bazlit had as much in common with him as an aunt and mouse.
Annoyed she was that his hip touched hers.
Looks like you have found your love match her friend Sam said.
She was so angry, she could barely speak.

Exercise had been suggested by this eager enthusiastic team leader.
Possibly enthusiastic about her paycheck as she was a consultant.
The employees were instructed to find commonality, so their company could run more smoothly.

I had no idea you two were an item, Patty, the gossip monger said.
Bazlit wanted to slap the smirk off both of their faces.
T12 followed her all day, finishing her sentences.
Incorrectly, of course. But in a smug, all knowing way.

He really is a total ass, she said to Sam.
How did you like your match up?
Miss Knows-Everything stuck to me like a sticky trap, he replied.
Very enjoyable.

Bazlit looked at his eyes and they began to laugh.
“It is terrific that you now know who you sycophantic with,” their fake enthusiastic leader said.
By now they were clutching each other, howling.

• Short Scooting Poems
• Famous Scooting Poems
• Best Scooting Poems
• Read Scooting Poems
• Long Scooting Poems
• Scooting Quotes