the robber sneaks into
Effy Royle
Effy Royle
Jun 7, 2014

the robber sneaks into
my space of illuminating
sadness
trying to piece together
the things that make me
tick
soon enough he thinks
he has it figured out
placing screws in the abyss,
knowing that if I tock he did
something
wrong
i want to tell him that
nothing will work
no matter how hard
he tries
my hands are broken and nothing
will ever
make them tick again
as much as they can try
as much as i'm already turning my
cogs to start again
the robber takes my broken hands
but just for a bit
"let me borrow them" he says
when he brings them back they are
rusty and used
i want to tell him that it hurts to tick,
how just because i was condoning
the robbing; i wasn't accepting it.
but i don't say a word
i just croak a broken tock
and let him rob me
all over again

this wasn't supposed to be a rape oriented poem, but that's how it turned out. idk, there's a sequel as well.
Hands off,' says the bag of cash to the robber.
Clarice Alvarez
Clarice Alvarez
Jun 12, 2014

'Hands off,' says the bag of cash to the robber.
Or, wishes it could have said,
Because it was an inanimate object,
While the robber was not.
The bag of cash was just a cotton satchel
While the robber was all flesh and blood.

'Where are you taking me?' the bag of cash silently wails.
It doesn't see the light of day
When the robber stuffs it into the trunk of his car.
Alone, the bag of cash occasionally jumps up in the darkness
As the robber's sidekick -- his car
Rushes him to an alien place.

'I have been forsaken,' the bag of cash mopes.
Once the robber takes it out,
The bag of cash will have to die.
It cannot imagine the horrifying thought
Of the robber slitting him open.
Its organs -- the wads of cash -- will all spill out in a puddle.
What did the bag of cash deserve
To meet with such terrible fate?

But the bag of cash hears a gunshot
Once, twice, and thrice.
And a flicker of hope lights up within it.
It sees the light of day again as the trunk opens
And, to its delight, sees the robber
Cuffed by the wrist and wearing a scowl.

'I can go home now,' thinks the bag of cash,
As the police officer takes it into his arms.
And once it's home, back in the vault
It can relay the frightening experience
To other bags of cash, bursting with paper bills and eagerness.

A little something I brewed up while I was DMing some of my friends last night. I kind of like this work a lot, to be honest.
#poem   #story   #idk   #bag   #yay   #theft   #robbery   #robber   #cash  
For she was the robber,
Kunal Kar
Kunal Kar
Dec 15, 2015

The alcohol has set in,
The jazz has lighten the mind,
With the wine rushing,
The rays of that far end memory.
The Beatles were on the old tapes,
While the old man reached his deck,
Brought out an crystal glass,
A drink was poured and served,
As the hands rose to her brown hair,
Shades of a beautiful lady poured up,
Eyes dimming with the black,
Yet clinging at her face.
She seemed hot in her sadness robe,
While her hair played to the song,
A sundress night on a cloudy sky,
For she was the robber,
That robbed me of my security,
With a dagger of hope and life.
Tuned to this lost night affair,
I laid my heart and eyes on the tables,
Rowed the boat to her,
Stood beside with a smile,
She was crying goodbyes to her past.
Then we talked through difficult times,
Shared a shy smile,
Like a beautiful song,
I turned and we touched our drunk lips,
She leaned and this hands hugged her,
Lost in that classy moment,
The time ceased and the tapes played,
A lost love song.

#wine   #mystery   #night   #lips   #lady   #robber   #drins  
there is a robber who steels he have lot of friends are r
Jordan Richard Raj
Dec 21, 2013

there is a robber who steels he have lot of friends are robbers to one day the robber called all his friends and made a group discussion and told  go to steel an ice cream on a maket i'll steel
from a  house and then everybody got messed up and then the robbers plane wasn't successful  
at last on one got nothing.

Not all masked men are robbers

All robbers aren't masked

Françoise
Françoise
Apr 19, 2015

you&i; somewhere, first time
to see each other.
you're a stranger
at first
and maybe forever,
yet you are my typical
type of heart stealer.
but that was the first
and last time we'd
see each other.
i'm thinking of you
come to my dreams and
give me your number.
then i'll beg you on text
to meet me,
soon again,
for the second and
more times.
i'll wait for you,
in my dreams,
i will really wait.

#love   #life   #dreams   #thoughts   #you   #wait   #unexpected   #stealer   #robber   #snatcher  
pm
pm
Apr 15

it's all or nothing
will you escape this city,
run away with me?

someday im gonna ask this to the one id run away with
#haiku   #happy   #romance   #true   #the   #simple   #robbers   #1975  
cop and robber.
Jonny Angel
Jonny Angel
May 9, 2015

O Sweet Thief,
let's play
our fun game of
cop and robber.
So Miss Crook,
stand up straight there,
face against the wall
and spread 'em
wide.
I'm going to frisk
you deeply,
ever so slowly
for my heart,
the one you stole,
have hidden inside.

SassyJ
SassyJ
Aug 25

My easel, has been asleep
for a while, like a whale
on the lost deep seas
finding a prey
to victimise
to sate the belly full.

Your easel, sees in my eyes
the robbers on the blink
of an unruly end
finding recognition
in social media
to favor ego
to sate the belly full.

Your easel, is a mellow fine lens
Hands in line holding a gun
set a trigger, to silence the crowds
the doom in the public cruise
trollers and vipers with wipers
to sate the belly full

What have we come to dear friend?
we seek fame and lose our self
to the shadows of the masses
who denude our dignity
to gain their sanity
to sate the belly full

What have we come to dear friend?
in the spaces of the contours between
dehumanised by the social media
the medium of the century voice
the armageddon of currency
that sate to fill it's belly

The poem is an accompaniment to an art piece called "Robbers". The piece is a two composition hue, with shadowy effects of a teenager holding a gun. In the shadows and the in-betweens, the dark streak of social media dehumanisation strikes. The art piece 'robbers'  is the work of "Joshua Ingram" aka Ezra Warhol. Thanks for inspiring me artistically, I am swapping walls for the canvas. Your artistic hand is beautiful and ethereal dear poet, musician and painter friend.
http://hellopoetry.com/atlasmarker/
the robber holds his purse
B Wasserman

Back in the crooked
alleys I only see pain
bricks and races
seven guns
three chased
four chasing
three men split rank
stolen money from
a city bank
in the well of the midnight hour
our lungs heaved and run
hands on our four guns
robbers hid and multiplied
like reflections
on a screen
false corner
false colors
one man drops
like dead wings
from a dead fly
bled out on the alley
with his future bled dry
and his bones still warm
chases resumed
some shots amplified
in municiple dens
too late
too late
another good man gone
now at the docks
where the ocean lends weight
shooting across the stiff planks
the robber holds his purse
a shot lands fatal
in my partners chest
the robber sped and gone

 
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