"scrapper" poems
She does not own a fighter's body
But you can tell right from the start
That the thing they have in common
Is...she has a fighter's heart
For as long as I have known her
A scrapper she has been
A lioness well challenged
She is cunning, though not mean
Her battle is internal
Her trophy is her life
Her body's full of cancer
She's tap dancing on a knife
She won't back down from any fight
Not this one...that's for sure
She determined like a fighter
She wants this fight...and one more
It's a battle for survival
She's as tough as old Ali
Her battle cry is awesome
"You will not be taking me"
I write this for my mother
The toughest woman that I know
And regardless of her cancer
Her pain...she'll never show.
May 2, 2012
May 2, 2012 at 7:01 PM UTC
On the south side of kelso if it's there that ya choose to go
Well if its there ya go then ya just gotta know bout a man named tweaker joe
Now tweaker, he's a scrapper and if ya go down on his door
Don't you worry about wakin him up. He aint slept since 74
Well he's weird, weird tweaker joe
The weirdest tweaker in South Kelso
Weirder than a three toed frog
Stranger than a five eared dog
Now tweaker hes a scrapper and he likes his shiny things
And he likes to see what fun he has by the chaos that he brings
He got a custom BMX bike with a flashlight on the grill. He got 32 lb of brass in his pack, he got a dope bag in his shoe.
Well he's weird, weird tweaker joe
The weirdest tweaker in South Kelso
Weirder than a three toed frog
Stranger than s five eared dog
NOW Friday bout a week ago Tweaker scrappin cars. But at the end of the alley sat a cop named Thurman and ooh dat cop looked ******
Well he cast his light upon joe cuz Thurman had a plan
Tweaker joe learned a lesson bout messin with a future Sherriff man
Well he's weird, weird tweaker joe
The weirdest tweaker in South Kelso
Weirder than a three toed frog
Stranger than s five eared dog
Well the 2 men took to runnin and hes dragged down to the jail
Joey looked like a wrung out tweaker with a couple of teeth left
Well he's weird, weird tweaker joe
The weirdest tweaker in South Kelso
Weirder than a three toed frog
Stranger than s five eared dog
Well he's weird, weird tweaker joe
The weirdest tweaker in South Kelso
Weirder than a three toed frog
Stranger than s five eared dog
May 27, 2019
May 27, 2019 at 9:04 AM UTC
*She looked at him with philia
As if she stood a chance
In her bedroom, she created a world
A dream of New York, Rome and France
All she wanted was him,
But she poetized her love on papers,
Like a child tells a pet,she wrote
"Darling,I will fight it like a scrapper."
She longed for a peek from him,
For, in him, her world dwelled
And when saw him beamishing,
All over again in love ,she fell
Then one day he went away,
Over the seas, over the bay,
She mourned ,lamented,
And finally gave way,
In her last breath she said,
**"I am strong and I could still fight,
I had regarded him as my life,
But I want to see him one last time."***
Jun 13, 2015
Jun 13, 2015 at 3:22 AM UTC
A locking click
the clear is hall
a clocking tick
is hear I all
a rocking drop
the near is fall
a blocking chop
I fear the saw
a pampy crapper
I nose my hold
a campy happer
I clothes my fold
a fighty scrapper
that big is bloke
a lighty snapper
I cig my smoke!
©2011 Lyn
Nov 15, 2013
Nov 15, 2013 at 9:46 AM UTC
Perfection doesn’t exist
It’s a non-existing standard we can define by nothing more than our desperation and pursuit of completion
It’s deluding and is painful to bare, in fact letting of go of it opens up so many pores of acceptance and contentment without hindering ones ambition of aspiration
One shouldn’t go with the other
Perfection is not meant to go hand in hand with ambition
In fact the healthiest more achievable form of ambition is that which exist without the *********** of perfection in its walls and foundation
Ambition is healthy, the idea of perfection on the other hand is dangerous and so mythological that it causes a great deal of inadequacy to those that still hold on to its empty promises.
Let us produce great results, great being the profound collective exchange between good and bad, happy and sad, what is positive and what is negative
These are not opposing forces, that’s what perfection has convinced us of, they are parallel systems of reality that make and break it equally, as one cannot exist without the other in specific instance
Belief in perfection is as dangerous in a mentally ill person’s conviction to jump off a sky scrapper believing he can fly, it’s becomes more damaging the more we believe in it.
Perfection is not peaceful it is stagnant, it’s monotonous and deceptive
In fact perfection is cruel because it convinces is of a reality we seek and pursue when we can’t even imagine
It has no beginning nor an ending because that’d process and progress
Meaning perfection in a reality of progress never was and will never be but doesn’t want you to believe that, in fact the only thing that brought perfection into conception and gave it the nerve to even exist in our reality as the theory it exists on is the falsehood it’s made a home of in our hearts and in our souls, that’s why it’s hard to imagine but even harder to get rid of and eradicate.
Mar 21, 2019
Mar 21, 2019 at 4:13 AM UTC
#
***'You said,
"Someday I'm gonna break your heart",
the first time that we met--
Were you warning me..
..or just seeing how close I'd get?'***
*If you didn't want to exist in the heart
of a man like me, then you shouldn't have
allowed your scrapper little spirit
to write the way you do.
And I was so naughty-- so very intentioned
in all of my obscenely-truthful lies..
I told you it was all your fault
that you got in so quickly*
--and it was.
*I got you back, though
I knew it the moment you let on
that you had fallen deeply in love.. not with me..
but with the love that had so deeply fallen
for every-thing about you
And so, it increased.. but at such a strange distance.
But even then, the years only perfected
and strengthened..
until lately..
until lately..*
***'We lay down in a lover's sigh
As a million years of time rolled by
How can I be hoping that it's not over yet?'***
I wasn't done, young Andi..
no.. no.. far from it
You see.. there's this shame-thing
I wanted to flood with light.
I'm getting so close to finding the words
that have never been heard
in this world before
(And now.. and now.. and now..)
***'I can't hold on to the night
Things change, ain't nothin' ever stays the same
You're gone as far as I can see
If you feel like letting go
Honey, I don't wanna be the last to know
( I wanna hold on tight to the sweet memory
of you loving me)'***
#
May 7, 2023
May 7, 2023 at 8:31 PM UTC
Roddy's Rooster, man! you couldn't
oust her
Standing up there on his dunghill fair
Announcing to the whole world, to All
everywhere
My **** He's the greatest doodle doer
O! that Roddy's Rooster.
He don't need no booster, does
Roddy's Rooster
He'd even go after the goose sir
Don't you fouster with this Rooster
You'd only lose sir
Now vamoose sir.
Very dapper and quite the scrapper
Patrolling his perimeter
Strutting around the farmyard pound
Invariably, henhouse bound
If you were to meet him
It'd be "Put up your dukes sir
Me! I'm Roddy's Rooster".
With his tail feathers all fluffed up
Like a feather duster
And his chest all puffed out
Quite the Dandy and always randy
What a Suitor that Roddy's Rooster
And O! what a Wooer, that wooey
doodler.
I I
He came a cropper though one day
When he fell in the Hopper
Now he's a good deal shorter
And not half as cocky as before,
Now he sits on his wall lamenting his
fall
Thinking of the days when he used to
have a ball
Has Lady Luck that Grand Old Duck
deserted him I wonder.
Sad to see, now he's a bit gammy
More Bandy than Dandy
He still South's in the Summer
But has doubts in the Winter,
Now he likes to crow his woes and
lows away
Climbing up onto his dunghill, he
greets the day
But now in a high shrill falsetto
voice
He sings in a whole different way
" I've been round the Ringer but I'm
still quite a Dinger
**** a Doodley Doo"
Now... now he's a ****** Blues singer!
O! that Roddy's Rooster.
Roddy's Rooster Yeeaahh!
Mar 17, 2020
Mar 17, 2020 at 10:29 AM UTC
#Selmhem Naise
(02/2016)
I was so much older than you, but not enough to where
we couldn't be in the same school at the same time.
I watched you grow up throughout the years,
and you attracted my attention in a way
that I have yet to find words to describe.
The first time I saw you, you were with your friends
stopping in the park on the way to school-
swinging on the swings, even though you had
long outgrown that stage. It didn't matter to you
because at home you still had Barbie dolls that
you played with. You didn't care what people thought,
you just did what you did because it made sense to you.
As you got older, so did I and I grew in stature, yet
would still look towards you where you were at, four
grades younger than me. I was tall, muscular, tanned,
long blonde surfer hair. You were a freshman and always
hung around with that messy looking nerdy-type kid
who had tape on the edge of his goofy looking horn rim
glasses. An upper class **** started ridiculing him,
and you jumped up off the bench and literally climbed
up on his back and started punching him in the head
as he was spinning to try to grab you off of him.
I was close enough to run to the commotion, and told him
that if he laid a hand on you I was going to knock him cold.
Do you remember me grabbing hold of you
and lifting you off his back and setting your feet
back on the ground?
I looked you right in the eyes..
and it was at that moment that you saw
what I had carried of you for so long.
You were still just a little girl at heart and in body.
The end of that year I graduated and moved away.
I went on to marriage and family, work stuff.. everyday things.
When much of that crumbled, I found myself here;
and there you were again..
*I have loved you for nearly all your life, little scrapper
it has been well worth the wait.*
#
Jan 20, 2021
Jan 20, 2021 at 7:45 PM UTC
Better Than You
Anytime, anyplace,
I will kick you in your face.
Anyhow, anywhere,
I will leave you in despair.
You name the place, tell me the time,
there isn't a word I can't rhyme.
Not a chance, I will loose,
your words leave a mental bruise.
I'm gods gift to the pen,
you have smaller ***** than Ken.
Don't hate the player, hate the game,
by now you all know my name.
I'm not a poet or a rapper,
just a rhymer, writer and a scrapper.
I entertain you with my catchy hooks,
it helps that I have sensational looks.
You're nothing but a fudge packing **** pirate,
oh I'm sorry, was that supposed to be private.
You can't mess with the rhyme master,
what a shame you turned into a disaster.
I've taught you everything you know,
but I left out the part how to properly flow.
You were my pupil, you tried to go alone,
like Medusa, I turned you into stone.
The **** you write, no one reads,
to me everyone eventually concedes.
You're like Pepsi, I'm like Coke,
I'm an unsolvable riddle, you're just a joke.
As I stand here waiting for the duel,
the longer I wait, the more I fuel.
I see you lurking in the shadows,
you're heading right for the gallows.
This is your last chance to surrender,
I commend you for trying to be a contender.
But as I suspected, I'm better than you,
I left your underwear brown, and your ***** blue.
Dec 9, 2013
Dec 9, 2013 at 6:51 PM UTC
Goodnight Moe
It was good to know you,
found you in the rickety Virginia City
wooden shelter
alone, staring sadly out at the world
so small,
I guess you could call it a rescue.
Once the puppy stacking wild mustang poops on the front deck
Running wild with the coyotes
You always were a scrapper
When eye contact made,
Your half hour battle with Bingo on a frozen Nevada night
Slipping on the snow and ice.
The night you walked by my side
When the blizzard came
Keeping me from falling down that hill
when I was sliding, how'd you know?
Goodbye Moe
It was good to know you.
Waking us up with the first light of dawn
Sticking your nose
Into my tears
Licking away my sorrows
Curled at our feet on a cold winter night
Chasing the cougar
Up the Tamarack tree
When the wild purple onions were blooming
You always had that faster second speed.
Now your legs can hardly hold you
And when the puppy came
You were big daddy
Patient and teaching a young one how to be
As you taught me
Goodbye Moe it was good to know you.
Well, now that puppy is probably
Going to outlive me, outlive you,
And now that the volume of your hearing has been turned down
The thunder and July 4th no longer send you panting
You were always to big to be a lap dog.
Now silence is all you know
Far away from those Virginia City
Mountain days
Everything changes
Everything passes
Time spins around
Our days and our nights.
Now hobbling along Dry Lagoon
Where the big waves curl
You stand bewildered and confused
But when you see me you know which direction to go.
The night is coming
We know that
Better head on home
Goodnight Moe it was good to know you.
Feb 24, 2019
Feb 24, 2019 at 10:50 AM UTC
Remember...
When comic books were the real big thing
and kids everywhere waited eagerly
every week excited to start reading
the latest Beano or Dandy
Remember…
Enjoying Dennis the Menace and Gnasher,
Minnie the Minx and the Bash Street Kids,
Roger the Dodger, Scrapper and Basher,
Beryl the Peril and Billy Whizz.
Remember…
Thinking Bully Beef and Chips were so great;
the awful things that Bully would do!
Not forgetting Desperate Dan and Keyhole Kate
who were always fantastic too.
Remember…
When we used to read the Sparky or the Topper
or the Buster or even the Beezer
without of course forgetting the Victor
or Roy of the Rovers either.
Remember…
When they had the Bunty for girls too,
the Mandy and Judy as well,
which many boys would read it is true;
though all promised never to tell!
Remember…
Waiting patiently each year for Santa to bring
the Annual edition of your favourite one,
spending hours on Christmas Day just reading;
and reading was the best thing under the sun!
Remember…
When everyone joined their local libraries
soon after schooldays had begun
When you were sure to find a book to please
and reading was so much fun.
Remember…
When books transported us to another world,
each new book a revelation,
instilling in us a love of the written word;
really fuelling our imagination!
Remember…
How much enjoyment you got from reading
and what little effort it really took,
how the pressures of life soon began receding
when you immersed yourself in a book.
Remember…
To try and make time to read a good book,
to take time out every now and then,
and you never know, with a bit of luck;
You might fall in love with reading again.
Jun 23, 2015
Jun 23, 2015 at 3:56 AM UTC
Ok, doll eyes
Don't get all worried
I'm a nobody
Just a fly upon the wall
I have a face with only
Forgetful features
I'm a one night stand
Just some guy bumming smokes off fate
I never jump right in
I just circle the water
Testing it for ph levels
Testing for temperature
I stand up shaking the dripping thermometer
"Yeah go on in the waters fine"
I would rather be in the corner getting drunk alone
Watching God and the devil at war
Just an eye
Watching the goings on
I won't say that maybe
I test fate
Ok...I always do
Running off at the mouth
Saying too much
Listening too little
I don't sit there and watch the devil fight God
I jump in and lay into God's jaw
Breaking a chair on the devils groin
I'm a bleeder
A scrapper
A lover
A Mystic
A drunk
A scientist
A wizard
A thief
A warden
A friend
I just want to be everything for you
I can be all the right things
I can be all the right times
I can take a hint
Or leave it
One time I asked to pass on who wants to be a millionare
:.........on the one million dollar question
So here is your one million dollar question
In riddle form:
What has two blue eyes
That see only good
Two white hands
That only show love
And one beating heart that wants nothing more than to tell you the truth
Jan 22, 2012
Jan 22, 2012 at 12:08 AM UTC
A funky, spirited patch work kite,
acting heroic like a resolute knight,
on an adventure to prove it's might,
across the tallest sky scrapper flew past.
The edifice, the true epitome of pride
of the city center,was clearly aghast!
thought itself as a marvel without rivals,
never would concede defeat even to clouds,
dismissing them flippent,not permanent,
was crest fallen,and dull, at once, weighed down
quite a bit, then the panic button was switched on.
Mar 30, 2017
Mar 30, 2017 at 5:15 PM UTC
Awakened and upsized
Macaques enclosed in plastics
Blown like a fainted paper
A ladder presents in heights
As the stamina builds to rise
The climb to the sky scrapper
Should we run to the utmost
Drag each other to ascendance
Hunt our vulnerabilities and nurse them
My love carry our load to paradise
These road of ours to hold and touch
Heighten us so we light the city streets
Feel my pulse throbbing for you
As the sun scorch and the wind blows
Darling, I will wait for you day after day
May 20, 2016
May 20, 2016 at 4:41 PM UTC
With rubble in a desert Town,
Flowers,
Roses and Cacti Grow,
and like mold,
slowly descending onto a painting of a family from the 20's
like a male lover,
descending on another,
kissing his Vice lips.
A.M. Holy
A.M. Cursed
A motel sings mutely on a braille guitar
oh lover
of Cleopatra
birth sister
beauty of mine is obscure and faintly ugly
like a smile
of a killer
or a sky scrapper
who is exhausted
looking over beauty
studying the divine words
of Neruda and his over coat
hiding his pistol of Words
and nymphomaniac disastrous love affairs of the beauty of the human mind
digging
and sweating occasionally dying for the hope
for the hope
for the hope
of something Pure
like the moon
and its Phase
of light,
shining down,
and a man,
too drunk to love.
He descends into a place,
the Rabbit hole of imagination
where everlasting is clear
like a good day in San Antonio.
Like the Stream
where a boy,
found Divinity.
Feb 5, 2013
Feb 5, 2013 at 8:12 PM UTC
What are you looking
for, little scrapper?
Behind these eyes
and words lies a
man you can't defeat.
His language beguiles
and deceives, like
the Opposer, and you
carry no flaming sword.
Jul 20, 2012
Jul 20, 2012 at 11:51 AM UTC
You don't need to pretend anymore,
Look at me,I've become so strong,
And I never wanted the sympathy,
Even in my worst nights full of misery,
You can't kick me down ,you see
I'm the sky scrapper,look at me
With just a little faith in myself,
I abandoned each letter on the shelf,
I no more want love from you,
I'm colouring my life with blazing hues
May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 2:14 PM UTC
It all happens on the other side of midnight
There's a different moon
That shines in a different way
Depending on what side you're on
Music is smoking hot sweating in full swing
Poems are born through a slow dance
Lie's are left twelve hours behind
On the other side
Through a trap door
Dopers are craving to score
With legs intertwined
An Argentine tango has arrived
Giving way to a heat wave
Of girls in their sky scrapper heels
Working overtime
Pimps have branded their cattle
The moon has gone to bed
And so have I
Mar 7, 2016
Mar 7, 2016 at 8:42 PM UTC
#PaulSN
I have been writing
about you
almost since my
very first-ever poem
It was your spirit I
could feel--
even when I was wholly
unable to feel
You are a b ra isi v e
in the most t e n d e r e s t
of ways
my little scrapper
And I have pulled you
t o w a r d s me
a thousand different days
(yet, I have never touched you)
Little scrapper, you are
a d m i r e d
from afar
by me--
the one who has been
watching you--
all these years
Look up, beautiful-one
turn your face
to me
and see that I am
still here--
wanting just to touch
the side of yours
with two fingers
just a touch
Yes,
silly spilly--
yapper-lilly
I am right here..
lookin at you- tenderly
still--
even after all this time
#
Jan 15, 2021
Jan 15, 2021 at 9:10 PM UTC