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Best Poems Written by Scott Anderson

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

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Things

GOTTA GOOD 1 FOR A FOLKS LOVE IT EVERYTIME
JUST A STUPID POEM FOR YA TRY TA MAKE IT RHYME
THINK OF THINGS OF SILLY PAST N FUTURES NEVER DID
OF THINGS I SAID N THINGS I DID N THINGS I SHOULDA BID
THINGS THAT SHOULDVE BEEN RIGHT THERE N THINGS THATS JUST R NOT
N THINGS THAT JUST SHOULD NOT BE REAL N THINGS I NEVER GOT
THINGS R JUST THOSE SILLY THINGS THAT WE WILL NEVER GET
N THINGS R THINGS THAT SOMETIMES WE SHOULD NEVER EVER LET

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The Road Ahead

My mind was just a hazy mess, and truth was far from me,
   common logic grappled fear and reason ran like pee.
So alone,So far from home was not my hearts desire,
    Tucked abreast in some side quest, deep within the fire.
To lay down before you what no man has taught you,
    you saw the unthinkable truth                       
That here your alone nearly chilled to the bone
    And your heart is a'pounding with grief,                 
Hessant foot fumbles as bumbling legs
    swagger their way to the pass,
And looking there on it, you'll naught be beyond it,
    And your mind will fall dead on the grass.
Sweat licks your brow as you thudder n shake 
    as you draw all your energy bay,
And sum all your courage in the last of defiance ,
    To reach the sweet break of the day.
Looking down that winding road,and seeing only darkness,
    But looking back that old dirt track, no going back regardless

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Badweek

Like two ticks off a midnight,when the minutes drag for days,
my life was in a shamble and my mind was just a daze.

It started Monday morning after I had been retrenched,
The water pipes had burst and all my furniture was drenched.

Tuesday saw my naked out the front without a key,
Amid the smoke and rubber where my car's supossed to be.

N' Wednesday was the night that my old buddy says to me,
The girl I've seen for eighteen months' been seeing him for three.

A stroll down to the local for a "strong" one seemed the call,
'Cept happy hour'd been cancelled and was now the monthly brawl.

Friday all I did was wear an icepak on my head,
In terror knowing that it could be worse....I could be dead.

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My Pet Poem

To write a poem everyday ,wasn't such a task,  
Just a little rhyming ode is all I really ask.

A simple ode that rythms out it wasn't much to say,
to breath some life into some words and brighten up your day.

I had to feed it constantly, morning, noon and night,
and soon it took up all my time, it gave me such a fright.

It smelled a foul of yukky stench and grew too long I feared,
Soon it would be far to big to keep it locked down here.

Midnight grumbles form the words that would not make its stay,
And gurgling chorts of snorts and warts it gave off everyday.

It killed grandmother, then the cat before it broke its chain,
And left a trail of slimy gunk dripping down the drain.

Details | Scott Anderson Poem

Poetrysoup, Anybody

Poetry soup? how do you make that?
Well you throw in some words, hell throw in the cat
Throw in a leper and throw in a rhyme,
Throw in your best friend and throw in some thyme
Throw in your heart cause it's there on your sleeve
Go on,add your Mrs,she's just gunna leave
Throw in the one thing that makes you unique
Throw in all your treasures and all that you seek
Spice it all up with some really hot goss'
and then throw in your job and throw in your boss
Throw in your family, just for the taste
Throw in your tantrums, their not such a waste
Mix it about as you jump up and shout,
"I cooked a poem, far out brussel sprout."

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Aware

The future is here, awareness at last,
The mind shall not want from the long rotten past.

Your shadowless words, erased from my mind,
Your dirty old drawers are removed from my line.
your freely gave "Sorry", your strange anecdote
No longer hold steady and gripe at my throat.

Your silly old habits I'm burdened no more,
and your stupid old raincoat hangs not from the door.
Cause your outta my life and this only is true,
But now your not here ....think I really miss you.

Details | Scott Anderson Poem

My Son

What's that apple in your eye,
William tell I can not lie,
down on your bed silently,
I'll sing to you child blissfully,
I'll raise the moon up in the sky,
and pledge my love until I die,
You'll always be my number one,
My first born child, my only son.