Scrappers Poems


Premium MemberDonald a McCormick Boy

Donald was born in a tough family
It was beyond tough love, it was violent
He learned to put up his dukes before he was two
always getting struck down hard by a brother
He had six of them and they were scrappers
His parents did not interfere, it was their family’s normal

when he got to school he trusted no one
came in fighting and scrapping
his teacher was seasoned
she was used to the McCormick boys
she had been teaching them for over thirty years
they trusted no one

It would take Donald a long time to trust her too
She knew this, but trusted that it would eventually happen
It always happened about May
Sadly, the last month of kindergarten
Next year he would be in another teacher’s class
trusting no one
a new rough start
he was a McCormick boy
it was his way of life….
Categories: scrappers, parents,
Form: Narrative

Premium MemberMy Neighborhood Gang

My Neighborhood Gang
Colorful  drapes hung alongside of my narrow window
A small one/bedroom apt. my first - from delivery of newspapers
overlooking a park -  past a spider web - made by a black widow
planted on one pane - I would peer

Children  tossing hoops laughing an bouncing ball would alert me
Time to exercise an maybe get into a game myself
our usual gang - tough competitive group - scrappers see
someone hurting after each game me too 

Now at dusk, all this would change - you could hear those voices echo
Off buildings nearby - these same rough guys would sing
singing is what we did in that old park - after dinner with chicko
that boy from Puerto Rico was our leader an could hit all high notes we sang

Windows opened on all the surrounding buildings - families listened too
Only when our sessions were over - we hear Bravo! Chico Bravo!
We sounded like angels in a choir - made us feel proud - cool so true,  
without a doubt we were on top of our world - couldn't wait for tomorrow


                Three word prompts used = Window - Angels - Singing
Categories: scrappers, community,
Form: Free verse


Premium MemberCome On Down To Inclusive Town

Come on down to Inclusive Town
We will throw you in by your knee or chin
Come on my friend, and you all are
Matter of fact, 
Become our holiday star

Rappers, scrappers, mappers too
You are all welcome
Yes!
I do
Mean
YOU!

Come on down and pick up a fiddle
They are on the floor.
Also in a pile.
Grab one in the middle

Come on down to Inclusive Town
where the air is free, and the dirt is brown
Come barefooted, wearing your holiday tops.
The music is free, and it never stops.

Want to paint?
Easels are free along with paint.
Don’t talk right?
We love your “ain’t”.
Shoe-tapping music all over this place.
Inclusive Town open to every religion and race.

You have three eyes?
From a different planet.
This place is for you.
We’ll rename you Janet
Or Pete or Clover or Cockeyed Sue.
The main thing is, we are waiting for you!
Categories: scrappers, 3rd grade, 4th grade,
Form: Free verse

To Isolation

To Isolation
By Joji Varghese Kuncheria 

Though I am self quarantined now for weeks,
Through the glass window pane facing the east,
I can see the red-orange globe arise,
Between the two sky scrappers opposite.

I keep busy and spend time relaxing,
On the easy chair on the other side,
To see the reddish-orange sun setting,
I'm not isolated where I abide.

Back in my bedroom, I see the white globe,
High above on the other horizon,
Keeping me alive in the frontal lobe,
The moon moving snail-paced, unlike the sun.

Though the sun has gone down saying goodbye,
The bright moon has elated me sky high.

                    *******
Categories: scrappers, 12th grade, anxiety, introspection,
Form: Sonnet

Premium MemberMy Life As Tasmanian Devil

Pups, imps, joeys, wiggling tailed marsupials, hunting in parties of five.
Deadly facial cancer has killed lots of us, it’s a wonder I am still alive.
I screech when I eat, carrion, my utmost favorite food, road kill.
My aggression insured me at babyhood alive I would be still.

There were fifty in my litter, but only four teats so we scrappers had to fight.
Growling and viciously, snarling at each other, slapping away nice ones in the night.
Our mother was grabbed by a caveman devil who dragged her off by the neck.
I was incensed, and promptly chased after them, thinking “what the heck?”

Some of my siblings were frightened out of the old hollow log, 
not many decided to stay.
I was not one of them. I showed my teeth, 
and my aggressors promptly ran away.
Wombats, wallabies, opossums and other animals on this island of mine.
Steer clear of my hollow log, knowing I will 
snap them up and eat them in no time.
Categories: scrappers, 6th grade, 7th grade,
Form: Rhyme


Human Noise

I see city dwellers resting on concrete seats
Day dreaming a thought or two
The fragrance of coffee wafting out into the street

Here’s to the situated sparrow poking and jumping about
Searching for his daily opportunity
Honking cars and fuming buses some filled with people, some without
 
All moving quickly with a purpose to somewhere
The city is buzzing about at cool summer 78 degrees
Red lights, green lights an old man afoot singing to himself unaware 

Just think of what he’s seen in a lifetime 
Buildings coming down and sky scrappers going up 
Constant motion and change and crime 

Kids on skateboards with I-pods in their ears 
Dial up phones to cell phones in everyone’s hands
I wondered if he had a humming in his head throughout these years?

Or was he busy in the past reading books he’d already read?
Isn’t interesting all the commotion mankind makes 
While a small bird eats the crumbs from a piece of old bread
Categories: scrappers, life, nature, peopleold, city,
Form: Rhyme Royal
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