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Best Poems Written by John Scott

Below are the all-time best John Scott poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | John Scott Poem

Straying Juvenile

.Part 1.    Spoken.

My younger sibling, I brought you painfully up,  you brought me "pain"  fully
I myself struggled through  constant hard times, your constant struggling with yourself, hard timed me
I cleared a pathway through life for you, you clearly thought the pathways were lined with gold 
Today I had to repair,  Mums front door, the door you caused to be kicked down yesterday
I love you and will defend you, even when you are wrong, which as you know, you never are
You lost your parents some way back and now it seems you somehow lost your way

.Part 2.    Poem

I can't believe you did this thing, I can't believe you did
The shame on mum and dad's memory and then you run and hid

You cannot mess with men like this, they follow no set rules
Wealth becomes a god to them, they do not suffer fools

I pulled you from a hole today, I pulled you from a hole
The talk was death to stinking thieves, I saved your very soul

You lost your mum and dad so young, is that why you rebel but life is not a one way street, I lost them both as well

You brought me lots of grief tonight, you brought me lots of grief
I brought you up as many things but one was not a thief

I handed back, the things you took, I gave them all right back
The men who stood at mums front door had shot guns in a sack

The offer that they offered me,  was one,  to not refuse
Return the goods the "bastard took"  or read it in the news

If mum and dad were still alive, for this you would pay dear
If mum and dad were still alive, do I make myself clear

I can't believe you did this thing, I can't believe you did
The shame on mum and dad's memory and then you run and hid

Details | John Scott Poem

Hoods

A storm is brewing, full of hatred and despise
A tornado growing, you can see it in their eyes
The hoods are out, with the pit bulls at their heel
You can smell the fear, you can touch it, go on, feel
What has caused this thing, what has caused the gangs to rumble
What has happened overnight, in this massive concrete jungle
Something exceptional, to cause the gangs to hate and rob
Their welfare cheques have stopped and they have to get a job

17/04/2016

Details | John Scott Poem

Tribute To Manchester

I wrote this as a tribute to all those injured and killed in the bombing. Get well soon people, rest in peace those that were murdered. 

Manchester will never forgive
 Manchester will never forget
 The few that carry the bomb
 The few with the terrorist threat
 Manchester will never forget
 Those that were caught in the blast
 Manchester understands
 That it isn’t the first time or last
 The Provo’s they gave us a warn of attack
 A few precious minutes for the hordes to drawback
 Now our blood stains the tarmac and union jack
 From a cowardly nail bomb packed in a backpack 
 But Manchester will stand, like the tree called the Oak
 Rising up tall from the fire and the smoke
 Manchester has been there before
 Surviving but battered and sore
 So Manchester’s message to those with the bomb
 Bring it on, bring it on, bring it on

Details | John Scott Poem

I Like Muslims

One man, one bomb, packed with rusty nuts and bolts
He bides his time, picks his spot and halts
Then detonates a foyer, full of mums and dads and kids
Who are blown apart, blown asunder, blown to little bits
Manchester, England, 2017, do I like Muslims or do I dream

Two men, two knifes, a soldier walking home attacked
Beheaded on the street and with machete’s hacked 
Calmly, two men wait and joke with stunned passers by
Behind them, on the floor a headless man did die
London, England, 2013, do I like Muslims or do I dream

Three men, a car, with pockets full of knives 
Stabbing indiscriminately, eight people lost their lives
The police were quickly on the scene, the men shot dead, where they stood
Another brutal terror attack and the streets were stained with blood
London, England, 2017, do I like Muslims or do I dream

Three examples, horrible but are all Muslims full of badness
The answer simply No, they shared the grief and sadness
For those that lost their lives from the few with bombs and knifes

Now Hammed and his children are scared to walk the street
With abuse and scorn hurled at them, from everyone they meet
Mohamed took no part in this, he is sickened just like we
But a few have hardened life for the Muslim community
England 2017, do I like Muslims or do I dream

Leave the people alone, let the people be
They believe in their god, just like you and me

Details | John Scott Poem

20 Years From Now

The stars above thy coffin lid
My mortal life has long been rid
Yellowed bones I have become
As yellowed as the daytime sun
As I look back at pastures green
When I was strong, huge and lean
My family standing hand in hand
On the plot we called our land
Then body aged and one grew weak
Possessions I no longer seek
One slips away towards the earth
Sadness replaces joy and mirth
Cry not for me, weep not for thine
The stars are you, the stars are mine

Details | John Scott Poem

She

The day that I first saw you smile, as I stooped to fix a lace
A small stone’s throw across the street but then there was no trace
I ran the corner that you turned but I had lost the race
I may now never have the chance to acquaint your lovely face

I walk the spot of that one glimpse, every single day
In the vain hope our eyes will meet and my feelings to convey
Many females, I have met, they are all now shades of grey 
Unlike you my rainbow sweet, my dream, my sweet sorbet

Details | John Scott Poem

Life Is a Lottery

We three sat in the bar
Horse racing on TV
Lets take a gamble said we
As the horse,s  lined up, just three
We all backed a different horse
None of us won, how come
My stake was a straight win on the second
My mate had a straight win on the third
No prize for second or third  place
You should have seen my face
We turn to third man with joy
He must have won, oh boy
No, he gambled on a forecast
First two past the post in correct order 
One won, the other last
This gambling game is murder
Three men, three horses
Six possible winning outcomes 
Life sure is a lottery
Stick to solitaire
Eventually you will get there
Winning the lottery
Twenty million horses lined up
You need the first six past the post to win
Throw your tickets in the bin

Details | John Scott Poem

Peace, Quiet and Dignity

Something I wrote for a lady who lost her life to big Cancer last

I loathe the sound of modern life
Man made machine, electric knife
Chainsaw that rip through old oak bough
It seems so inhumane, somehow

Bring me peace, tranquillity
The robins chirp, the creek of tree
Buzz of bee, or croak of toad
Maybe I am getting old

Not for me the the whirl of drill
But breeze of wind and air of still
Or laugh of child at fun and play
Is all I ask upon this day

Not for me, leaf blowers blowing
Nor noisy trucks coming and going
More birds that sing in harmony
That's the type of sound for me

I say goodbye, I say farewell
A white cloud for my carousel
And on the wind away I sail
My quest to find my holy grail

Shed no tear, nor hold no breath
For I am not afraid of death
All I ask from you and he
Is peace and quiet and dignity

Details | John Scott Poem

The Garden of Life

The most beautiful
thing, sing the
birds
Gorgeous as the
sound. around the
crashing of waves
That morning tweet,
sweet as apple
crumble
The wren , the
robin, bobbin his
head, on a quest for
worm juicy

The squirrel racing
the fence, hence
some other beat him
to the nuts
Two at a time he
takes, stakes his
claim twofold
Off across the
grass, class act as
he scales that tall
garden gate with
ease 
He will be back,
sack of monkey nuts,
he knows I have

The hedgehog
shuffling through
the vinca major,
wager he too, is
after a worm or two
Fantastic vision for
one so short of
sight, night time
darkness is when he
is king
He is being watched
by the cat, that is
normal but the cat
keeps his distance
Hedgehog is a
formidable foe to
puss, thus, the wide
berth of respect

The ants are
marching to an fro
along the same
trail, hail the
source of food
discovered 
Spilt sugar and
crumbs of cake, take
it slowly bit by bit
until it is gone
A wonderful society
of harmony and one,
gone in four weeks,
a short life span
All work and no fun,
sun is coming up,
time to go
underground

I return to my seat
of garden
observation, nation
of insects, ants,
wasps and so
All getting on with
the business of do,
who would have
thought
Its a small world
true, through the
back door
The most beautiful
thing, sing the
birds

Details | John Scott Poem

Mobile Phoney

Dedicated to all the people who either gaze into the phone or it is permanantly stuck to their ear

Life is the same game, remorse, regrets and shame
Sick of the pain, the rain and the late train
Listening to the politicians with their same spiel
Turn off the TV, the radio, for a while
Listen to something new with a swing
A saturated robin in the wet garden, boy he can sing
The wind whistling through the air
Try taking a selfie of that to share
On your mobile phony
The sun breaking through warm rays
Those were the days
When people spoke face to face, oral communication
Before texting and messaging over ran the nation
So you have 8,000 facebook mates
Know them well do you, their birthdays and the dates
I can tell you one thing our kid
You don't really know Pancho Suarez from Madrid
He is a million miles and more away
Although you spoke to him today
Hell that's ok
He is only a phone call or a text message away
If you use your mobile phoney.