Scoundrel Poems | Examples

scoundrel -

so many smiles have pierced my passions
speared by dazzling white
so much dear flesh resolved to warm me
midst those moonlight nights
for ne’er should once I take for granted
dreams that madness might …
but I have been a scoundrel
and I broke a heart … or two

with aims quite chivalrous and kindly
pride worn on my sleeve
I stumbled through the bracken blindly
bound to hearts I’d thieve
and though I was quite oft’ forsaken
bared to break and grieve
at times I was a scoundrel
and I broke a heart … or two

I’ve never been the kind to tender
pain through keen intent
I’ve made mistakes and poor decisions
left rules broke and bent
but I have loved with gracious purpose
should my soul be spent
tho no doubt as a scoundrel
I did break a heart … or two

this blessing, life, comes sans instructions
we each find our way
while some folks stride unbent and narrow
fools like this one stray
but still we strive to do our very
best with each new day
and change that silly scoundrel
who did break a heart … or two

(for tho we’re far from perfect …
this ol’ world needs scoundrels, too).







Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden, January 9, 2024

Scented Scoundrel

“I weep at his words and you scowl.”
“what could be so troublesome my dear
that reading such, you’d shed a tear?”

“He writes of love quite flowery
sly hints about my dowry.

“Of a love he lost in the distant gloom.”
“of love notes tinged with another's perfume.”
.

Un Farabutto

Grandpa Francesco Proia,
from Caserta, Italia,
a clever stowaway 
in the bowels of the ship
bringing him to Ellis Island,
Feb. 4, 1905.
Gruff ways,
often snarling a guttural “Huh,”
a lack of English,
never-ending hand gestures,
made me fearful of him.
But awestruck I was
with the romantic notion
of his stowing away.
Bootlegging homemade vino
during Prohibition – another
plus as he captured my imagination as
un farabutto – a scoundrel, a reprobate.
Add in his being a coal mine boss
in Marianna, Pennsylvania,
and I had a genuine hero.
How many other children
claimed such details about their grandpas?
Never telling anyone
of my naïve admiration for him,
family loyalty prevented me
from bragging about him.
Living to just a few days short
of his “hunnert” birthday,
I loved and admired him to the end.
Even when the ship’s manifest
I discovered for La Lorraine
listed him as a passenger
in steerage, not a stowaway.

He Is a Scoundrel a Mutt

He is a scoundrel, a mutt, a con-man, a sleaze.
Keep talking I think.
I love bad boys!

He’ll hurt you, he will not fit in, he is the worst.
I could find something off the street better than that for you.
Sure, you know me better than I know myself.

He has a horrible reputation.
He will break your heart; he is not the one.
I scoff but say nothing, secretly thinking he might be.

Scoundrel Moon - Cl

The moon rose quick to kiss the east

          And blushed its cheeks in rosy rhyme

               Drew back the starry-curtained feast

     And made the reach his bloody crime



O clean me, moon, the sky did chime

          And washed he did with pearly fleece

               Then painted her with stars, sublime

     To dress for eve ... as day had ceased.






~ 1st Place ~  in the "Oh-No A Twisted Char-Lay" Poetry Contest, Charles Messina, Judge & Sponsor.

He Was a Scoundrel

He rode into town on a big white horse
Showing he was serious of course
We were amazed and amused

Many maidens gave a deep sigh
And married women thought I know not why
We smiled among ourselves

Is he a prince, a rogue or a king?
We knew it was something to later be seen.
We talked about him for days and days.

Nine months later there were six new babies
Proof that the cad had a way with the ladies
We were glad when he left in the night

Loving a Scoundrel

He’s no one’s favorite
She cannot leave him alone
Loving who she loves

I Am a Scoundrel

Yes, my good friend, I am a pirate, a rogue, a lone wolf
Irritated, I howl, snarl, and I yell.
Fortunately very few know this about me
To you I am sincere, unassuming, and sweet
Oh, yes, a darling one
Until I feel duped, double-crossed, or hurt
That is when the real me comes out with guns blazing, blades swinging
Lasers shoot out of my eyes
I am in destroy mode.
My fangs and my claws work overtime 
To slice you to ribbons.
If you are lucky, I might make you walk the plank instead.
Feeling a bit of tiny satisfaction
When I see the hungry crocodile floating past
Ha Ha
Howling in happiness when his jaws slam shut,
Taking you away forever
No, you do not want to cross me.
I am a scoundrel.

Sorry Scoundrel

My early twenties found me oft' a cad -
          A scoundrel, nonchalant and fancy-free,
                    So casual of sweet hearts and a tad ...
                              Too focused on finesse and ecstasy.

I walked a line, precarious and slim,
          'Tween gallivanting and my dignity ...
                    A crave for women, gathered on a whim,
                              As many rendezvous as I could flee.

I saw romance as something of a feast -
          Thus tasting all the treats of life's cuisine ...
                    Until a broken heart revealed the beast,
                              And all the travesties I'd come to glean.

One unique damsel made me acquiesce ...
                    Despite my errors, loved me ... nonetheless.




~ 3rd Place ~  in the "Standard Contest Number 90 Any Form" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Sponsor. *

~ 2nd Place ~  in the "New Poems (8 Difficult Words)" Poetry Contest, Emile Pinet, Sponsor.

Sweet Scoundrel Lies

You're so interesting I could listen to you forever...
I feel so very lucky you are truly my treasure!

I wasn't looking, she walked into my line of vision.
Being here with you dear, is truly my best decision.

Those pants fit you perfect, you couldn't possibly look better!
Yes of course my dear, they look fantastic with that sweater

Oh that is so delicious, can I have another bite
Yes of course I agree with you, you're absolutely right

I was out with buddies, just having some harmless fun.
Come here give me a kiss, you know you're my only one


For Silent One's Sweet Lttle Lies Contest

Written June 22, 2016

The Last Refuge of a Scoundrel

Appetites belie intelligence
Heat the quantum furnace
Furious bellows endure the excitement
Behold...!

Can you not hear the rumble brewing?

Butchers trained
To spin the looms
Tailors primed
To know a good cut when they see one

Everybody washes their hands
We have a guest!

Creator?
How are you this fine evening?

--

Denizens imbibe libations
Chase the dreams of spirits
Curious followers beckon the light
Beware...!

Can you not see the trouble stewing?

Mountains flow
As rivers rise
Locks engage
As arms are taken up to demand of God:

Let us know what you know!
We have our liberty!

But, Creator?
When will our time come?

--

Is there nothing?
I think not
Is there something?
If so... 

Be gone, thief!

Blinded by entropy's darkening gaze
Atrophied by the folly of wealth
Staking a claim on the horrors of Nature
As-yet-unprocessed
Cycled
And spent

Creator? 
Are you there?
We pray that you order our chaos!

But if we know what we know
What is there left to say?



© Michal Czechak 2016

A Thousand Scoundrel Winds May Scream

A thousand scoundrel winds may scream,
	And howl the storm-laden night
The Himalayan winds may roar,
        With their fury, with their might

And speak as much or little truth
	As those who think they know
The wise professions of the learned; - 
        A gale wind, a blizzard’s snow

A fickle lantern lamp may shine,
	With dim and dying light
Burning from some hidden place
        On a fog-enshrouded night

And illuminate as very little 
	As those that claim to see
We know nothing – we know nothing:
        The sole true philosophy!

A Worthless Scoundrel Died Today

By Elton Camp

Always true, it surely ain’t 
One who dies was a saint

Everyone loved him so
Friends want all to know

A smile always on his face
A fellow whom all embrace

He never did a single wrong 
Or so goes the familiar song

Though we see him no more
He stands on a celestial shore

Real opinion they never tell
“I’ve no doubt he’s in hell.”

“A liar’s all he’s ever been.
A man so steeped in sin.”

“Disliked by all he knew.
I say it because it’s true.”

“Without him, this is a better place.
Nobody will miss his leering face.”

Such candor might be misplaced
And newspaper obits sure erased

But it’s better not to say a thing
Than false praise to the dead bring

Just one time, I’d really like to see
“Of a worthless scoundrel we’re free”

Dirty Rotten Scoundrel

The dirty old man that I have become
Likes them pretty and likes them young
Once they get a look at my wallet size
Their need for handsome they compromise

I just can’t seem to get enough
They deliver my Viagra in a truck
The hot tub is full of naked babes
If you’re more than thirty, then you’re over-aged

I’m a dirty, rotten scoundrel, or so they say
But they’d trade places with me on any day

• Short Scoundrel Poems
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