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Best Poems Written by Rodney Hutto

Below are the all-time best Rodney Hutto poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Rodney Hutto Poem

Born-Torn, Scorned and Scarred

Born-torn, scorned and scarred.
Baby's thrown like a bone, choked and charred.
Raised by a mother shackled to Meth,
Dismissed by a father, deserted and left.

Itching for a fix, Mom hunted a high.
Twisting white truth, entangled in lies.
Selling sob stories with emotional pleas,
She abandoned her kin with relative ease.

Time ticked by to the beat of a tear.
Hate accelerates with the fleeting year.
Shattered remnants marked her absent roll.
Mother’s hiatus fueled a bitter soul.

A lonesome heart thuds with empty space.
A drug dubbed “love” was never replaced.
Despite the embrace of another’s clutch,
The kid still cried for mother’s touch.

Born-torn, scorned and scarred.
Baby's thrown like a bone, choked and charred.
Raised by a mother shackled to Meth,
Dismissed by a father, deserted and left.

Details | Rodney Hutto Poem

Perfect Polygraph

Woke-up, fairly quiet, in a rancor mood
Internally a riot with an open wound
Easy I could tell by a sinister laugh
Your cold embrace was the perfect polygraph

Just a tumbleweed, I’ll be blowing along
Playing MP3s like they’re marching songs
Never looking back ‘cause my pride is strong
Savior from a sack, packing 3 foot bongs

Greeted with a slap when she hunts me down
Never to collapse, I’ll resist her sound
Controlling only works when you’re gagged and bound
But baby I’ll be waving when I watch you drowned

Woke-up, fairly quiet, in a festive mood
Internally was silent with a healing wound
Easy you could tell by a fraudulent laugh
My cold embrace was the perfect polygraph

Details | Rodney Hutto Poem

A Young Man's Sorrow

With heavy eyes and a hallowed heart,
A young man crows at the ivory moon.
Like a skipping record scarred by strife,
He tightens and loosens an angry fist, 
Focused on the faint outline
Still etched upon his left, ring finger.

Alone, he stands on the Hollywood hilltop,
Flickering in the lights of Los Angeles.
Recalling her image, voice and touch,
Butterflies fluttered inside his stomach,
Twisting his gut like a medieval vice.

A thousand teardrops fell by moonlight
And vanished within dehydrated earth.
He aimlessly paced atop foliage and brush.
Trusting the power inherent in prayer,
He pleaded with his creator,
Imploring the Lord to extinguish his pain.

Please, he begged.
One last embrace. 
One last chance to kiss and dance.
We were in love. Our dreams were like gold.
But now, I see blanketing shadows.
The sky is clad with countless crows.
I fear the sun is wilting fast.
Please, he begged.
One last chance to kiss and dance.

Forged in dissent, frown lines did carve
Canyons across his placid face.
The young man inhaled
And like clockwork released
A cacophonous cry for salvation.

Fraught with emotion, logic, and faith,
His bellows were echoed across the city,
Resonating through steel and wood, 
The lord was moved to grant his repreive.

Divine intervention set foot on the hilltop.
His departed wife finally awoke.
Although her flesh was unattached,
Her spirit was free and unfettered.

One with God, empathic and kind,
She felt his wrenching sorrow.
She cloaked his body with a warm embrace
And commanded Mother Nature to heed her word.

Please shape his sky with clear blue love
And banish building storms.
Please fill his lungs with fragrant air
And mask what death records.
Please kiss his lips with joyous thought
And circle his soul with light.
Please dance with him, the leaves, and wind
And hold him close tonight.

Details | Rodney Hutto Poem

Uncoiling Cut

Idle time is an uncoiling cut,
Carved by creeks of toil and rut,
The water churns with arsenic tides,
An ebb and flow of random crime.

Wasted youth, the uncoiling cut,
Is dug with doubt, lined with rust.
In chiseled cracks where winds recede
Flagrant scorn plants a seed.

Absent hope, the uncoiling cut,
Harbors guilt in the cavern's gut.
Water falls through tattered seams,
A dripping gorge of broken dreams.

Idle time is an uncoiling cut,
Carved by creeks of toil and rut,
The water churns with arsenic tides,
An ebb and flow of random rhyme.

Details | Rodney Hutto Poem

Dead Baggage

For just one, frigid, October evening,
The dead will dance without their baggage,
Abandoning ravenous, ebony pain
And any fleck of enduring scorn.

Succumbing to this ancient witchcraft,
The dead will rise on Halloween night.
The rusted lungs of decayed cadavers
Will repair, respire, inhale and breathe.

While kids in costume horde their candy,
The dead will mingle with masquerades.
The living, unaware of Pagan prophecy, 
Openly chat with rancid remains.

As solace floods their now beating hearts,
The dead will glow with infinite grins.
Fearless children give ghouls their praise
For creepy designed realistic disguises.

Happy to haunt on Halloween,
The dead will dance without their baggage.
Awoke by sounds of trick or treat,
One night a year, alive and free.

Details | Rodney Hutto Poem

Frostbitten Frown

Burned and bluffed,
Fooled and ridiculed,
Etched in her stare
Was a frostbitten frown.

Fallacies and fact
Mixed and commingled,
Truth was perception,
Betrayal was abound. 

Heckled by hissing  
Snakes that side-wind,
Unable to decipher
The colors of venom.

Fraudulent, fictitious,
Fabricated intentions,
The appetite of predators
Is growing unfettered.

Begging and pleading,
Carnivores are calling,
Relentless persuasion
Knock at her eardrum.

Details | Rodney Hutto Poem

Desert Smile

Nimbus clouds form original artwork
Cuddled with their feathery friends,
Floating with the convectional current,
Fostered by directional winds.

Palm trees shake and wave goodbye,
Bid farewell with verdant hands,
Roaming the desert on a camel's hump,
Chasing a patch of shaded sand. 

Scorching grains like fiery coal,
Shelter, slithering, sidewinder snakes.
Plants are nourished by natural wells,
An oasis fueled by underground lakes.

Vultures soar and scavenge dunes,
A dying beast calls the flock,
Sharpened beaks smell rotten meat,
Ascend on flesh, bone and rock.

Details | Rodney Hutto Poem

Programmed Youth

Rolling along like a stumbling tumbleweed,
Programmed youth respond like robots.
Social norms are tightening tourniquets,
Restricting the flux of creative flow.

Wiggle room is considered a luxury.
Churches corral and prod like cattle.
Spoon-fed youth shackled to fantasy
Are taught to rebuke science as fraud.

Rebellion begins with autonomous thought.
Logic tramples faith based dictation.
Live like Jesus, but know that the Bible
Was written by man with ungodly agendas.

Freedom is found in the life of a Sheperd,
So stray from those who foolishly smite.
Jesus, the liberal, rallied the desolate 
And turned his cheek at the mention of war.

Details | Rodney Hutto Poem

One Last, Lonesome, Time

Time to shine
Our rusted hope
Flood the soil
And wilt our rose
Time to walk
An unworn path
Kick up dust
And choke on laughs
Time to veil
Our flagrant flaws
Clean the slate
And hide our claws
Time to sing
Our separate song
Tip our hats
And bid so-long

Details | Rodney Hutto Poem

Dandelions and Memories

Dandelions and memories
Lift in a drift, lost in the breeze.
Like fire ash when stiff winds blow,
Friendships fall outside the glow.

Squint to see what’s lit dimly,
A shooting star no one can see.
Feelings fade and pictures pass,
Lies and fights, games and laughs.

Childhood friends like worker bees
Weather common enemies.
Soon they’ll leave to find a queen,
And on the journey some will sting.

At anger’s cost lost everything.
Survivor bees don’t stop to sing,
Too busy buzzing, chasing dreams.
Thoughts erased like tape machines.

Dandelions and memories
Lift in a drift, lost in the breeze.
Like fire ash when stiff winds blow,
Friendships fall outside the glow.