"scouted" poems
We stalked hawthorn hedgerows,
Backyards our battlefields,
Wielding wooden swords,
Dustbin-lids, for our shields.
We scouted railway cuttings,
Long abandoned and disused,
Where friendship’s blended alloys,
Were cast, forged and fused.
We patrolled village streets,
Marched along muddied lanes,
Proudly defending ‘our land’,
From raiding, heathen, Danes’.
We boldly challenged Vikings’,
Beneath a Sixties-summer-sun,
Bonding loyalty, faith and trust,
That will never, come undone.
Those days will not return,
Memories-mismatched-truth,
Recalling the fallen heroes,
Fighting follies of our youth.
Protecting imagined Kingdoms,
Lost in time, for evermore,
Boy soldiers standing guard,
In Castles built from straw.
Oct 3, 2010
Oct 3, 2010 at 2:06 PM UTC
Love only knocks once.
Maybe she can be scouted-
out thereafter, sought and
captured tearfully, like a dog
reunited with the master
whom he'd thought was dead--but
she only knocks once, and then,
I think, gives up. The universe
gives up. I cannot will love back to me.
Apr 15, 2013
Apr 15, 2013 at 5:51 AM UTC
the hairdresser used the wrong dye
your boyfriend dumped you for a guy
all you have left is shattered dreams
camera flash blinds you with its beams
missionaries bring word of an impending doom
your dog snuck in and broke your fave perfume
trying to grow your hair but you have split ends
the guy you've been eyeing wants to be just friends
your favorite jeans ripped and you don't have spares
you would ask for a friend's but nobody cares
you're late to work and you don't know why
you got scouted to model but you were suddenly too shy
you failed the pop quiz that everybody aced
you got mistaken for a celebrity and brutally chased
you dropped your wallet jogging around
you found it empty a week later in the lost and found
you forgot not to and picked a scab
your favorite uncle's stuck in rehab
your grandmother mistook you for her son
in reality you're female, and nowhere near fifty-one
you're a penny short but the cashier won't budge
your mother is still holding that 10-year grudge
what can you do, what can you say?
when all you have is first world problems, today.
Nov 17, 2013
Nov 17, 2013 at 2:50 PM UTC
I accidentally stepped into the women's restroom
Turned around to quickly leave
Noticed there was no one there
Then turned back around for a manly peak
What the ladies do in here
Has always been a mystery
So I lurked about and scouted out
To let all the other men know what I've seen
First thing right off the bat I noticed
What appeared to be a sofa against the wall
Thinking it a pretty fancy toilet
Not to be hidden in a stall
As curiosity was killing this cat
I went over to lift the lid
The guys will never believe this
A couch is really what it is
No wonder the women take so long
When they say they'll be right back
They all head together to the restroom
To take themselves a little nap
Then over on the counter
I see bottle after bottle after bottle of perfume
I know that girls like to smell nice
But you have to wonder exactly how good
Just then I decided to crawl under the counter
A little more in depth into the mystery
That's when I heard the voices
Coming down the hallway at me
I can't tell you how many hours
I was stuck in that bathroom stall
But I can tell you it felt like forever
As the women jabbered and talked...
...and this being a holiday weekend
They shut the lights and locked the door
Which I guess is okay since I needed a break
And no one's here to hear me on the couch as I snore
Aug 7, 2015
Aug 7, 2015 at 10:11 AM UTC
I'm scouting ahead
I'm taking back all I gave
Here, I'll stave
This off
Starve
Burn
Barge through the door
Of your poor little house
That you took from a little piggy
I keep repeating,
Wolves take their share
Somehow, you don't care
And maybe there is nothing else to bare
Bones and skin
Misshapen breast and sloppy scars
I keep repeating,
Pay in love
I scouted ahead
It seems you never heard what I said.
May 15, 2013
May 15, 2013 at 12:00 PM UTC
Cold summer afternoon, the sun falls through my half opened blinds and
I wonder...
Wait.
Think.
Patiently stop and ask myself...
"Why" in the midst of conversing do I constantly think about you?
Or how when a female walks by
my mind wanders into this deep, deep oblivion
of sunshine and...whatever your favorite flower is.
I see her smile all the while I say nothing
for fear of you never smiling at me again.
With this pen
I will write you every love letter you have never gotten
Gone, but I'll sign the bottom with...
L O V E
Is a thing that you have never known to little of.
Your unmarked face of beauty, girl they're not even close when they call you a cutie.
From your freckles to your perfect eyes as they smile.
Let me be your wondering crocodile,
swimming back and forth keeping you from harm
Your protector.
The projector of a love that demands a voice
Make your final choice
These lands have I scouted far and wide
Lest I should be doubted
I could find you in a room that was crowed
Clouded was my judgment about you
Sprouted has my love for you
Rerouted are my thoughts because they only think of you
You're my super glue.
The one I will always hold on to.
You will be my mother bird and I will be your nest.
You will be my queen and I will show you who's best.
I have never found someone like you
someone where I
Stop patiently, think...wait and wonder about this girl
whose thumb I'm under.
Dec 3, 2013
Dec 3, 2013 at 6:38 PM UTC
Listen to this spoken word piece here -->
http://soundcloud.com/m_c_vegh/watching-the-time
They say that the present is only clear through rear views,
so watch who steers you and be cautious of whats near you.
Keep the road on your eyes if you are going to drive
most strive to survive -some catch curbs and nose dive.
And their story has no scribe no medicine to prescribe
no assets to divide there's no fence and no sides.
When things start to slip and you try to tighten your grip
it leaves us all clenching a fist -a weapon attached at the wrist.
But don't fight the present.
I've taken my lessons from clocks
their ticks and their tocks have taught
not to forget but some things are best left forgot.
Manage your times with intention,
go at it with apprehension
avoiding epochs of detention and not to mention
The stress of pressure cannot be measured
and never is pleasured
even when it ends in success the stress is just less
and lets face it; the work is never the best.
Never the less the lesson on stressin is things take time,
days, months, and years will all pass through in moments
be okay with no chance to hold it
and just relax, you can't take it back.
But feel blissful about it
time keeps going don't doubt it
the futures been scouted out
now we just gotta decide the route.
And you are decision makers
your parents, your friends and neighbours,
the old folks and the teenagers,
the spenders and money savers.
We all come in different flavours
all in need of different favours
each of us could be anothers saviour.
But instead our behaviour: leaves us in wanting
the way that were cold is daunting
and in a cold world those ticking hands can seem haunting.
So I hope this rhyme on time
helps to remind your minds
we all walk the line with time
though its silent like pantomime.
So understand time is a factor of plans
and we all have to meet its demands
because, still: it will never stand.
Sep 29, 2013
Sep 29, 2013 at 10:47 PM UTC
My son is tall, smart and handsome, too
But he was never quite the romeo
Not until he scouted for a job
And met a girl from SanAntonio
Lindsay caught his eye and she looked his way
On OK Cupid, not oddly
And since that day his friends all say
Josh never smiled so broadly
Their journey, their story continues
From Texas to Palm Beach and back
How many times did they drive back and forth?
At last they can finally unpack
Angus, her dog, endured by her side
Today he witnessed every vow
Like him the guests wish them the best
Josh and Lindsay are married now
So lets celebrate their marriage
Raise your champagne glass or water
Dearest Josh and Lindsay, I love you both
My son-and now a daughter!
Oct 16, 2015
Oct 16, 2015 at 10:54 PM UTC
I remember that day
When it was too hot to hold hands but we did anyway
And the sunlight was streaming
And our smiles were gleaming
And the sunshine cascaded through your hair
And I remember the water bottle we had to share
The pavement was hot beneath our feet
And you looked so sweet
And we scouted for free air conditioning
And as if by predetermined positioning
We stumbled into a little tea shop
I watched your jaw drop
As I faithfully recited your favorite order
We sat in the booth by the window
That day was slow
We didn't talk much
We didn't need that crutch
I held your hand in mine
Sweet as grapes off the vine
We watch the great blue expanse above
And I remember what it meant to be in love.
Jan 29, 2012
Jan 29, 2012 at 10:35 PM UTC
Out for a tea-break from rude routine drudgery,
Let our pupils pamper with green tea greenery,
In a wide cradle of hills down the western range,
Hey, enjoin and enjoy the beauty of lull in full swing.
Clouding mist cuddled the crown of gross green hills,
Warmed up trembling heights at day and night falls
Tourists touted, scouted up and down in curvy drills,
Marched ahead for feast of green smiles along miles
Short and smart tea-pool parade cool on high heels,
Unleashed the taste and toast of parallel paradise,
The train of tea plants planted mounting pleasure,
Surmounted gravity hard and soft in ups and downs
Wheezing wind whispered winter whimsy hymns,
Sun and rain sieved through mist for sporting spa,
In memoir cameras clicked sprawling green carpets,
What a tantalizing tea tree treat to tired tourists!
Nay, bonny tea bear tear and fear in its pink of health,
Of tampering heads, fracturing leaves, grinding dry,
Of cream, sugar and spice mixed to its boiling sweat,
For daily drink’s deep delight to trigger takers’ sprint.
Sep 19, 2014
Sep 19, 2014 at 12:15 PM UTC
Out for a tea-break from rude routine drudgery,
Let our pupils pamper with green tea greenery,
In a wide cradle of hills down the western range,
Hey, enjoin and enjoy the beauty of lull in full swing.
Clouding mist cuddled the crown of gross green hills,
Warmed up trembling heights at day and night falls
Tourists touted, scouted up and down in curvy drills,
Marched ahead for feast of green smiles along miles
Short and smart tea-pool parade cool on high heels,
Unleashed the taste and toast of parallel paradise,
The train of tea plants planted mounting pleasure,
Surmounted gravity hard and soft in ups and downs
Wheezing wind whispered winter whimsy hymns,
Sun and rain sieved through mist for sporting spa,
In memoir cameras clicked sprawling green carpets,
What a tantalizing tea tree treat to tired tourists!
Nay, bonny tea bear tear and fear in its pink of health,
Of tampering heads, fracturing leaves, grinding dry,
Of cream, sugar and spice mixed to its boiling sweat,
For daily drink’s deep delight to trigger takers’ sprint.
Jan 16, 2015
Jan 16, 2015 at 4:33 PM UTC
It burned.
The room span,
But what room?
I scouted the floor
cat-like.
I could have been anything.
A rainbow.
A kaleidoscope of colours
mashed to create perfection.
It hurt my eyes.
Perfection turned to abandonment
and I discovered loneliness.
A tunnel.
My eyes were closed
yet my vision was clear as day.
Twisting and winding and bending
I became one with nature
until an hour passed
and more was needed.
Nov 17, 2011
Nov 17, 2011 at 5:30 PM UTC
Out for a tea-break from rude routine drudgery,
Let our pupils pamper with green tea greenery,
In a wide cradle of hills down the western range,
Hey, enjoin and enjoy the beauty of lull in full swing.
Clouding mist cuddled the crown of gross green hills,
Warmed up trembling heights at day and night falls
Tourists touted, scouted up and down in curvy drills,
Marched ahead for feast of green smiles along miles
Short and smart tea-pool parade cool on high heels,
Unleashed the taste and toast of parallel paradise,
The train of tea plants planted mounting pleasure,
Surmounted gravity hard and soft in ups and downs
Wheezing wind whispered winter whimsy hymns,
Sun and rain sieved through mist for sporting spa,
In memoir cameras clicked sprawling green carpets,
What a tantalizing tea tree treat to tired tourists!
Nay, bonny tea bear tear and fear in its pink of health,
Of tampering heads, fracturing leaves, grinding dry,
Of cream, sugar and spice mixed to its boiling sweat,
For daily drink’s deep delight to trigger takers’ sprint.
Dec 8, 2014
Dec 8, 2014 at 5:49 PM UTC
She was a soft spoken lass
Who was dedicated in the arts and had a heart made out of pure brass
Sitting in a hard chair in class
She scribbled her name and waited for the time to pass
So she could make her move fast
At the right moment after class
The other girl got up to turn in her work when the bell rang
And she put the note on her desk
And zoomed out
Nervous as can be
The note said
"I'm a girl. Is it normal that I like girls.?"
She questioned its author and put it in her pocket, curious.
Little did she know it was someone she was next to everyday
But never acknolwedged her existence
She couldn't blame this girl's persistence
She scouted the school to search for this girl
Eventually she found out
And she thought it would be better to try to make this work
As love can't hurt
Dec 11, 2014
Dec 11, 2014 at 4:44 AM UTC
I wasn't thinking of much
Just zeroing on anything but the foreign whistling in my ear.
I had scouted for a potentially enticing attraction
That, while available, was both empty and deceitful
I remember now the lesson: Past Conjugates.
So I conjured my accent and answered correctly.
The door opens, and at first I paid no mind
But then I was stirred from my consuming thoughts.
I was chosen as a partner.
I did not know why, but
Then my gaze shifted outward
And I came eye to eye with you
I stood aghast at the warm greeting
Enveloping what had been a miserable day.
You sat down next to me
And there we talked.
Flirts I had only dreamed of leapt out of my mouth
And into your elegant ears
The only thing more surprising than my bold approach
Was the satisfaction in your relieving reciprocation
Jul 6, 2011
Jul 6, 2011 at 8:20 PM UTC
I captured a dream
Of melodious seems
And put it in a bottle of glass
So that when I arose
The sunlight would pose
And the rays would begin to dance
I walked to a tree
Where the bottle would be
And saw a reflection on the grass
I looked to the sky
A bird flew by
And with it the bottle of glass
I searched for years
Wasted my tears
On the dream that now was lost
I walked through the deserts
Paraded the sees
And even scouted the frost
But alas the dream
Of melodious seems
Was nowhere to be found?
I looked to the north
I looked to the east
The West and the South
Then I had a thought
A revelation of sorts
On this dream that I wanted to keep for myself
That now far away
It would be found
And the dream would be with someone else
Mar 15, 2014
Mar 15, 2014 at 10:22 AM UTC
there's 3 varieties of rock
scouted from the hillside
at the foot of the launchpad.
I LOAD UP ANGER,
IN ALL OF ITS FROZEN AND FIERY SHARPNESS
WEIGHING DOWN THE MECHANISM
WITH ALL OF MY EXPECTATIONS
TO THROW AT THESE UNFEELING WALLS
to simmer and smoulder
before impact
like a whispered promise.
(i reach for silence)
(the underhandedness catching my fingers)
(drawing blood over the drawstring)
(sending another part of me in its flightpath)
it never reaches the sky
you can't fire a non-feeling
as much as we wish we could.
so-i-decide-to-settle-down-
in-this-trebuchet-
to-see-if-throwing-myself-headlong-
will-let-me-break-through-or-break-me-
The castle walls remain up, the remains of a young man were recently disposed of by the guards, cause of death?
Trying too hard.
Mar 19, 2019
Mar 19, 2019 at 7:53 PM UTC
Sadly, I was born free to poverty
yet enslaved to many things.
I was raised right in the wrong place
So I planned my escape from poverty.
Gladly I liberated myself and my future,
empowered by the sheer will to survive.
I refused to accept the story of my birth,
So I sojourned into the unknown.
I reached beyond the very limits
that poverty placed before me.
I spoke power to self and jumped,
Not knowing if the parachute would work.
Oh, how sweet the fruits of freedom,
How free the paths I scouted for me.
Though jaggy but I know every pothole,
every stump in case I have to crawl back.
IvanBrookspoetry©️
4.25.2019
Apr 24, 2019
Apr 24, 2019 at 8:50 PM UTC
Mom nudged me to the side.
We are a happy family,
But for some reason, we always have to hide.
I’m a rhinoceros so is my mom,
We roam the plains,
And eat the grass,
But when the men come we hide and pretend to be glass.
As mom nudged I resisted,
She stumbled,
I laughed.
Then I heard the sound,
It was the men,
They drove around,
And scouted our makeshift den.
They raised the stick,
Pointed it towards mom,
What fun they were finally playing,
I was completely calm
But mom wasn’t,
I didn’t understand,
They raised their hand,
And a loud noise sounded.
I looked towards Mom to see her,
But she was now surrounded.
They took her away,
And left me alone.
I’m still a rhinoceros,
But I now roam the plains on my own.
Feb 18, 2020
Feb 18, 2020 at 9:38 AM UTC
I tattered your Yellow Wallpaper,
And trenched along your Groves.
To find that little special place,
Creeping amidst your Prose.
I scouted your Lands in search,
For what I found most dear.
But frankly I never found much,
That Gem was always there.
So as I walk my fickled Wood,
I realized something good.
I really never understood,
And I never really could.
Light Eddies And Venerable Elm,
Meant Everything.
Mar 11, 2020
Mar 11, 2020 at 2:32 PM UTC
Her body close to me
I never meant to chase her
She scouted me from across the room
Hands exploring every curve
Double D's firmly cupped
My calloused hands wanting to travel
Cradle the edge of her chin
As her lips press against mine
Alcohol taking over
These X pills kicking in
God **** it why did it have to be like this
Finally feeling the softness of a woman's touch
After chasing my own tail
Hoping her feelings would come to meet mine
But anger blinded me
Love asphyxiating my judgement
True I stopped caring
But god **** I love this feeling
******* again for the first time
Since I said I love you
The third time since we stopped talking
I dont even know how I made it through work today
Candy lips still stuck on mine
How did I survive today
Two hours of sleep
Begging for morning ***
Before she's out the door
**** my life is so much better
Not caring whether I love or not
A major distraction in a minor life
I longed for this day
Enjoyed the last minutes of my birthday
Now I'm headed back to the club
Hoping to forget you
At the bottom of every drink I buy
Feb 11, 2016
Feb 11, 2016 at 8:30 PM UTC