Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Piotr Balkus Apr 13
This life feels like a prison,
but everything happens for a reason,
at least that is what they say.
All I can do is swallow my pride
and obey.

Until the guard will come to me one day,
and shout: Hey, you! You've done your time!
And now we have to take you away!

Jeremy Betts Apr 4
My own Personal Playground of Persistent Pandemonium
******* People off Passionately,
Playing more than just a Part in their Problem
Picking Particular Pieces to Pack this Prolific Poem
Pulling off a Perfectly Perceived Premise
Until your Placement becomes your Permissive Prison
Poetic justice, I've got a Poetic license,
Permitting Primitive Primate like Procedures
Possible only because Perplexed Principles Prematurely, albeit Permanently, Pick Pungent Practices
Primarily Planning Precarious Peril, Priming Painful Predicaments
Publishing Print on Paper
Pent-up Paranoia Pushing Profane Prophecies
Probably Protruding Past Popular Perception
Preventing Pint sized Pea brains from Polluting People who Ponder their Planetary Purpose instead of Perfection
Parallel Planes Pairing Probable Permissive Propaganda
Providing Precision on Par with Polaroid Picture Panorama
This Pricey Psyche showing Persistence Prevails
But can't Press Pause
So Please hear my Plea,
Pretty Please,
Permit me the Power to Permanently Purge the Piercing Pain
To Ponder no longer the Placated Pointlessness of the Puzzle and Put away Pandora's box
To Promptly Procure my Place beyond Purgatory
As Promised

el Mar 20
I don’t know why you keep doing this to me
It’s like you get a thrill out of it
I am not your toy doll
You cannot discard me when I no longer interest you
You cannot keep my locked away in a dark closet
I want to see the world,
I deserve to see the world
I can’t go on like this
Jeremy Betts Feb 6
I don't mock the prison that is religion I unapologetically hold up a mirror to it 
I call it's bull shiit with the confidence to challenge the pulpit with nothing pre writ
I fear no holy punishment, don't acknowledge your judgement
And you can miss me with that covenant, I didn't have any part in it
I don't agree with what it represents and how gods "followers" use this religious content
Explain to me how this isn't viewed as a crime syndicate
Call him down here for one sec, clear this up with the public
The fact that nobody's done it only exposes some of the slight of hand, silver tongue magic
Turns suspect real quick, I've lost any and all respect
Your guys not the guy, I don't buy the lie
If any of 'em believe in what they say and read, they should be in a panic
Basically, if believers believe then they would live life far different
And be open to conversation instead of jumping straight into argument

Heidi Franke Feb 5
Today my son
Is to be sentenced
To prison. He
Lives 23 hours a day
In a jail cell, he will move on
Steeling courage few of us
Ever have to experience.
Consider your luck.
His mental illness
never to be a crime.
Will there be light for a prism?
Where he can turn to
Other pathways
Less dark and Forge
Himself into the open
Blue sky and all the rainbows
From here on out.
On the outside we are blind
On the inside some
Are given true sight.
I cry for a rotten system
In mental health care
We own. You might
Want to pull up some buckets
For all mothers tears
Knowing the best we have
Is incarceration. How is that
America? Tired of blaming anyone but yourself?
A son is to be sentenced this Monday morning. Prison transfer on Wednesday.
Heidi Franke Feb 2
He was in his cell
Twenty three hours a day
Never was he an animal
Yet treated as such

The echoes off the walls, bounce
The metal doors that clang, bang
Endless boredom after
All the books are read
He paces his eight feet

Gray dulls the senses
Lack of color, lack of life
He saw a bug inside
The other day, alive
Looking up at him
Another form of life, different,almost brand new
His voice filled with hope through the Pauses

It rained and the summer was hot
They were released for the hour
Choices that are made in that precious time
He went outside where there is only the cement
Laid on his back, spread his arms like an eagle, like an offering
Letting the rain Fall onto him,
just so He could feel Something
Sharing the experiences between a mother and son. The son is incacerated. Too many non violent people are imprisoned for far too long.
Jeremy Betts Dec 2023
There's no escaping these prison walls of skull and bone that nobody sees
The only thing stopping me is me, or so it seems
Look past the nose on your face, I'm beggin' you please, hear my pleas
My nightmares roll over into daymares, you get to look forward to your dreams

Isaace Nov 2023
Our cell has expanded.
Walls which were once eight-by-nine now extend infinitely.
The grey cracks in the walls run like rivers into the oval seams.
The window is now a barred prism of light from which we peer into the nigredo, rising from the mud with mercurial orb.
The mould is now a jungle on which I rest my *****—
This is the light of God which cascades across our concrete walls.
My cellmate is my lover and we both sit naked in the east wing,
Within the darkened hall.
Scars now etch across my body, from my ******* down to my rancid *****.
Sunlight no longer shines through our window;
We hide from the beams and from the insects which mesmerise with their shimmering forms.
And we hear the cries from our brothers whose cells do not expand, but contract;
And we hear the raptures of those whose cells have transcended physical forms
And can be reached into like the membranous, astral walls.
Ces Aug 2023
Thrashing, kicking
Struggling to break free.

From a barless prison
That's inside of me.
Anais Vionet Aug 2023
You can lie in Wyoming,
they don’t care in Arizona,
you can mislead them in Mississippi
but don’t mess with Georgia.

You thought us “hicks from the sticks”
but we were wise to your tricks,
we just recorded your words,
now you’ll get what you deserve.

Your threats and fraudulent incitements,
have earned you several indictments.
You came down with your whole freak show,
so they charged you under RICO.

Come back to Georgia, Mr. Trump,
it turns out you were the chump.
Because we’ve got lots of new prisons
and DAs with surly dispositions.

In Georgia we don’t mind high flyers
but man, we hate traitors and seditious liars.
While many, it seems, fell for your blusterous aura,
you ******* yourself good by messing with Georgia.
Next page