"convict" poems
you stolen pink, arson rose
you angry yellow
you know you the new black?
you inmate slap
color of construction
oh range
convict cage or bruised sunset
you peel or rind
oh range
oh range
(oh aren't you glad I didn't say orange?)
you uniform agent
you coral fire burnt
aren't you glad i didn't say orange?
May 19, 2014
May 19, 2014 at 1:20 PM UTC
Bittersweet, get me going.
hold your breath over my neck,
it really
lets me go,
twists my tongue.
Talk to me
like an angel
but,
touch me
like a convict.
disrespect me,
neglect me,
abuse me,
but,
with a voice I can't refuse.
Bittersweet, like a rose infused.
Bittersweet, keep me going.
my heart
flutters and flails when I hear you in my ear.
Whisper me **********
but,
***** me
like a ******
****** me,
reduce me,
fool me,
but Bittersweet,
make me feel *****
Like you're in school
and I am turning thirty.
Oct 20, 2010
Oct 20, 2010 at 9:56 PM UTC
‘There is not much that I can do,
For I’ve no money that’s quite my own!’
Spoke up the pitying child—
A little boy with a violin
At the station before the train came in,—
‘But I can play my fiddle to you,
And a nice one ’tis, and good in tone!’
The man in the handcuffs smiled;
The constable looked, and he smiled too,
As the fiddle began to twang;
And the man in the handcuffs suddenly sang
With grimful glee:
‘This life so free
Is the thing for me!’
And the constable smiled, and said no word,
As if unconscious of what he heard;
And so they went on till the train came in—
The convict, and boy with the violin.
9k
The next to empty train
Roars through the mist of dawn
As it passes the lakes and elves
The dark and mystic pines
-forests that once told of horrors
To keep the ones like me
From crossing the line-
This box, this crate
A testament of the modern man
To whom which it serves
It is somewhat of a time traveller
When it breezes the land
That years have made its own
And yet there are scenes from my window
That I know are proofs
Of exceptions to the rule that reads,
“time will take its toll”
All the brooks and oaks
And even more so
Every bolder and stone
Convinces my heart and soul
That I need not be marred and scorned
Broken and torn
By the thistles and thorns
And all the bourdons that the lions
Of this glass world
Convict me to *****
Since there is a side
To the manic and indecisive puzzle that is I
A side of realism and cynicism
Thus I am well aware of my mortality
And the scarcity of the time that is mine
My existence is an indirect unwritten vow
To never bend my back and bow
To never fall in line
And receive my share of coals
To fuel this machine down the rusty tracks
In a race against nature or God
A race to prove one or the other
Or even both wrong
A race we’ve already lost
Sep 20, 2012
Sep 20, 2012 at 11:43 AM UTC
Ek sehmi si khwaish dabi rehti hai palko talle,
ek nayaab pankho ki talaash hai shayad usse..
Aksar khamoshi Ke lafzon Mei pucha karti hai,
"Aye dost, itna bata, kis gunaah Ka illzam hai mujhpe?"
---------
A beautiful English translation by fellow poetess Sukeerti:
A scared little wish stays embedded underneath the lashes of my eyes;
Perhaps, it's searching for a pair of flight feathers- rare and precious,
As often, in lyrics enclosed by quietude, this wish questions me-
"O friend of mine, please let me know, what sin am I a convict of?"
PS: Do check out her work; they seldom fail to touch you deep down.
Her profile: http://hellopoetry.com/sukeerti/
Jan 20, 2015
Jan 20, 2015 at 11:03 AM UTC
She don't like her eggs all runny
she thinks crossin' her legs is funny
she looks down her nose at money
She gets it on like the Easter bunny
she's my baby
I'm her honey
Never Gonna Let Her Go
He ain't got laid in a
Month of Sundays
I caught him once
and he was sniffin' my ******
he ain't too sharp but he gets things done drinks beer like it's oxygen
and he's my baby
I'm his honey
Never gonna let him go
In Spite of Ourselves
we'll end up sitting on a rainbow
Against All Odds
honey were the big door prize
We're going to spite our noses
right off of our faces
there won't be nothin'
but a big ol' Hearts
dancin' in our eyes
she thinks all my jokes are corny
convict movies make her *****
she likes ketchup with her scrambled eggs swears like a sailor when
she shaves her legs
she takes a lickin'
she keeps on tickin'
I'm never going to let her go
He's got more ***** than
A Big Brass Monkey
he's a whacked-out ******
and a love bug ******
Sly as a fox
crazy as a loon
when payday comes
he's howlin' at the moon
he is my baby
and I don't mean maybe
I'm never going to let him go
In Spite of Ourselves
we'll end up sittin' on a rainbow
Against All Odds
honey were the big door prize
we're going to spite our noses
right off of our faces
there won't be nothing
but big ol' Hearts
dancin' in our eyes
In Spite of Ourselves
Written by John Prime
Cherie Nolan- A favorite wedding tune
Aug 27, 2016
Aug 27, 2016 at 9:35 PM UTC
Straight out of prison
Wondering what I've been missing
Right out of the gates I stuck out my thumb
A van load of hippies
All from Mississippi
Stoped and asked, hey dude...what's going on
I'm here for adventure
Well hop in then Mister
Adventure is what we're all about
Now where we're all going
There's no way of knowing
A van of hippies and parolee freshly let out
We ended up in Disney
Me and all of the hippies
Where we had caboodles of fun
We met Mickey and he saw it
When I lifted his wallet
Now we're in the Magic Kingdom all on the run
We split in different directions
To throw off detection
It's A Small World is where I made my mistake
With that song stuck in my head
It's a fate worse than death
Prison now sounds like a wonderful place
We rendezvoused in
The Pirate's Of The Caribbean
Where soon after, in came the law
We all jumped from our boats
Splashing around in the moat
And had ourselves a good old fashioned pirate brawl
We soon made our escape
Out of exit door 88
Finding ourselves in Frontier Land at night
Where in the middle of the street
Were Mickey, Donald, and Goofy
All with guns strapped to their sides
We ran into a shop
And bought guns on the spot
All with Mickey's money...he's a mouse of a man
Mickey squeeks we're going to ruff you up
As Goofy holds up the cuffs
And Donald says something we can't understand
We had a shoot out
With cap guns no doubt
After all Disney runs a safe place
Ran out of caps in our guns
Which stopped our lives on the run
The wrath of Mickey we all now would face
After justice's hammer
I'm now back in the slammer
This time I made my own prison bed
Now I cry every day
What more can I say
With It's A Small World still stuck in my head
Aug 31, 2013
Aug 31, 2013 at 8:02 AM UTC
Segregated.
Locked down and secure.
In protective custody over you.
And, they claim my love is the evidence to convict.
And I can't say it don't make sense.
Cause it's true.
I'll serve my time quietly.
While being in the custody of you.
You can guard me twenty four seven.
You're my angel of love sent from heaven.
Jan 11, 2013
Jan 11, 2013 at 6:19 PM UTC
Exist, a word that hurts every fan girls feelings
Yes it hurts, why? Because he doesn’t even know you’re alive
Are we over reacting? Maybe yes, but that’s love
Not the type of love that everyone knows
You know him but he doesn’t know you
You love him but he loves you as a Fan
You know all the facts about him but he doesn’t even know a single fact about you
There are times that he will be rumored on having a relationship with the other idols or other girls out there
It hurts, it hurts us fan girls feelings
To the point that, how you wish to be that girl, how you wish, but that wish will just remain in your mind not in your heart
But who are we, to be hurt?
We are not in the proper place to be hurt nor do we have the right to be jealous or hurt? No we don’t.
Because yeah, we are just his FANGIRLS
FANGIRLS, F-A-N-G-I-R-L-S
8 letters, 2 syllables, different meaning
You know what? Cut the beat
He will never know you; he will never understand you and he will never love you like how you do, because we’re miles away from him MILES
Does it hurt? Its okay you chose that, we chose that, we chose to be his FANGIRL we have to convict it
In fact, we should be proud being a FANGIRL,
A fangirl that is willing to love, support, understand and accept all his flaws because that’s the only thing we can do to show our love for him
And yes, I’M IN LOVE WITH SOMEONE WHO DOESN’T EVEN KNOW I EXIST.
Jun 24, 2018
Jun 24, 2018 at 4:17 AM UTC
Ladle Guilt, blame, and regret into me
Someone should convict me and restrict me from emotion
Crest-fallen, I yearn for redamancy
I tormented time with a turbulent fallacy
Condemn my illicit distribution of preconceived notion
Ladle guilt, blame, and regret into me
I can’t recall tasting stories without choking on hypocracy
For all that makes peace & love stems from chaotic commotion
Crest-fallen, I yearn for redamancy
But too long my eyes merely saw until the day I learned to see
Not importance placed like a trophy case but in honest raw devotion
Ladle guilt, blame, and regret into me
Promises sink like anchors, for their nightmare’s being free
We struggled finding solace and settled for continuous motion
Crest-fallen, I yearn for redamancy
If only I could do things differently
Cast a spell, think before I speak, perhaps produce a potion
Ladle guilt, blame, and regret into me
Crest-fallen, I yearn for redamancy
Nov 27, 2013
Nov 27, 2013 at 6:53 AM UTC
I quivered in the arena
As thousands of people screamed at me
All because I wanted to touch the *****
I guess I play a different football
Those Hartford wailers weren't there
When I was on the ice
Trying to play goalie to the problematic pucks
All I had was my blocker
And all I could do was deflect
Yet those same people
Try to convict me in the tennis court of public opinion
Just because I wanted to make my own racket for a change
Is that really my fault?
Why should I listen to these people
When zero and love have the same meaning?
Am I beholden to those
That wanted me to kneel in the endzone?
They're the people who separated me from myself
Now that I'm running back
They're claiming they were my safety
But there was never a decent referee
Only people that wanted to see me in stripes
But here's the kicker
I'd forgive them all their past interference
If they'd just stop challenging my plays now
Jun 10, 2017
Jun 10, 2017 at 2:02 AM UTC
In your eye a shutter-spark that catches
my gaze like a passing street lamp
driving in the rain - it’s refraction
drifting in and out until it’s a flash-bulb
burned in my eye. A flash-bulb, lightning,
sewing the skies and growing beauty in depths
and molding itself to veins. Veins that burn
into the friction of my
sporactic chest - a catalyst.
A catalyst that ignites my gaze
and inflames my ribs,
it beckons your breath -
warm against my ear.
A breathing,
a comfort,
like the softness of the light in winter;
where the clouds draw like curtains
and you hold onto me.
A moment of hesitation in breath,
And I continue to falter.
You scare words from my ribs
And I fear you. You to make me a convict
of my indecision.
Still – barred - paused in frequency.
Mar 14, 2014
Mar 14, 2014 at 2:19 AM UTC
I thought I could get away with a fib
But it only brought weakness
Not just to my mind but to my limbs
If only he could of witnessed
In that moment I was scared
So I figured why not write a script
Why'd he have to care
Protecting myself caused me to feel like a convict
I now have a conflict and am left sleepless
I just didn't want to be compared
Now left feeling helpless in my own tangled mess
This so called fib has caused me to become mentally impaired
Jan 21, 2014
Jan 21, 2014 at 5:27 AM UTC
**
A fast-track court in the capital city;
A Judiciary of a democratic Country;
Hearing the a gang-rape case,
reserved its order
on the quantum of
Punishment for the
four convicted in the
Gang-rape and ******
of a 23-year-old
innocent girl
A 237- page judgment,
Noting that that the
Crime was committed
in an extremely brutal manner.
“The major part of her intestine
was pulled out from the body,”
the Doctor said.
The prosecution has sought
the death penalty for the
four convicts, while the
Defense lawyers for the
Convicted are pleading
for a lenient verdict.
The arguments in the
gruesome gang-rape case
are over and sentencing
will be announced
at 2.30 pm on Friday,
13th September, 2013
"The sentence which is
very appropriate is nothing
short of death,"
special public prosecutor
told the court.
“The common man
will lose faith in the judiciary
if the harshest punishment
is not given “
the Judge remarked;
Guilty of ******
Gang ****
Unnatural ***
Criminal conspiracy,
destruction of evidence,
Kidnapping and attempting to ****
the eyewitness said
The fifth convict
Committed suicide
in Tihar Jail
in March this year
The sixth convict
was a juvenile at the time
of the incident and has been
given a three- year term
in a reformation home.
A fast-track court,
A Judiciary of a democratic
Country will order
Stop Crime against women !
“Hang them,
Not let them go free”
**
______________________________________________
BY
WILLIAMSJI MAVELI
Sep 11, 2013
Sep 11, 2013 at 7:32 AM UTC
Words, oh how they convict us.
Even worse, words left unsaid, how they restrict us
Floating in an abyss of wonder and confusion
I've asked myself, is love a delusion?
A question I've pondered all of my years
Circling my mind
Bringing me to tears
I've gone so long, being alone
But when I met you,
I found my home.
Love is lost and love is found
Like a tormenting version of a merry go round
Sometimes that feeling will flutter away
Taking with it our beautiful, happiest days
And as much as it pains me to see it go
I find sanctity in watching you glow
In time I hope you'll flap my way, by then I'll be better
And I hope you'll stay
Because when love gets lost
Its not gone for good
Something just unearthed the ground that she stood
Yes it's true, sweet love, she's still there
Waiting patiently as the small warmth inside you, though you're unaware
When love leaves, she goes without a sound
It seems like goodbye forever
But she's just waiting to be found
Jul 21, 2015
Jul 21, 2015 at 9:14 AM UTC
It was quite a pickle,
I have to say.
It haunted me,
Both night and day.
You may believe
One's never scary-
But this pickle had me
Very wary.
My friends they said
"For HEAVEN'S sake,"
The pickle's only
A piece of cake!"
So they went ahead
And took a slice
Now they could see
It wasn't nice
A rather bitter taste
It did supply
A rather salty cake-
Their mouths were dry
And without water
(The pricy job,
Of digging a well)
They began to sob
See this did nothing
But deepen their thirst
This pickle of mine
Was one of the worst
They were awful busy,
They wouldn't chat
So I stayed to talk
To my hairless rat.
And it had me concerned
That the pickle had me beat
And would run off with my tongue
Down Mountainview Street
He said the pickle would make me
A fool in this town
This thing would convict me
So I swallowed it down.
Mar 27, 2015
Mar 27, 2015 at 12:24 AM UTC
A cool December morning!
Today I rose much earlier than usual
I watch the night stealing away
Like an accused convict under cover
Sunlight peeks through the leaves.
In the haze of overhanging mist,
Only the blurred silhouette of trees in sight
The crows have begun their raucous call
The leaves of grass are misted with dew
A cool zephyr blows from the south
Clouds float like shredded cotton
Even Sirius, the brightest star has paled
Life is slowly beginning to unfold
And men like shadows have begun to move
The sun has now climbed to the Eastern hills
In scintillating glory like a mighty king
Shattering the mist with his lance like beams
He exults like a victorious warrior
His crystal rays rouse the sleeping birds
And they begin their chorus in wondrous rhyme
I enjoy the sweetness of this lovely morn
In serene silence, I stand and watch
The light that slowly fills the Earth,
Dispelling all trace of overhanging darkness!
Dec 8, 2016
Dec 8, 2016 at 7:28 AM UTC
Whether it's an eight/twelve hours or more shift.
I SALUTE all men and women that daily places their life in danger.
Behind walls of correctional institution enhancing rules and regulation to inmates.
Of course you find that familiar one professing like it's an honor to be called convict.
Over phases of offender or inmate.
Unlike those street enforcers with weapons.
The only one you have is your vocal tones to control.
A prayer said daily, if you are of faith to calm your day.
Hold truth that any second, minute anything might happen.
While many families failed to comprehend you didn't make their child apart of the correctional system.
That was their child decision.
It takes strength and fearlessness to operate behind fences.
To be that honest officer following the rules.
For even some co-workers eventually ends up behind these same various walls.
RESPECT is an earned trade and trait.
Like your word is your bond.
But in a place that operates twenty four seven.
Your work is never done.
So to all correctional officers I SALUTE YOU!
Jul 1, 2017
Jul 1, 2017 at 6:36 PM UTC
Tear down the clouds, kindle the summer sun
Let the bright, flooding clarity come
Displace the darkened world’s gloom
Let all the liars speak too soon
Make the wise men start to shave
Give voice to bodies in mass graves
Shatter insecurity, staring from its mirror
Pack away the things we most fear
Spark bonfires in every child’s heart
Teach them love, the most delicate art
Show all the CEOs what emotions are
Build great ladders to hug the stars
Put bows round each headstone
Free the debtors, forget their loans
Free every convict of insignificant crime
Fill the public fountains with a hundred thousand dimes
Make all the mourners dress in white lace
Let the summer sun shine from every face
Remove the cobwebs from the sad boys’ rooms
Steal the black thread from the weavers’ looms
Watch all nightfall melt away
Into a celestial menagerie
Stark prison of the heart
Let beauty’s peaceful riot start
Jul 11, 2012
Jul 11, 2012 at 1:28 PM UTC
You're just a ****** victim
But you can't convict him
For breaking a heart that was untrue
When you were silent then
He never came back again
And all he ever blamed was you
It seems you're the bleeding heart
That he tore apart
But you found your way to another
And when it's all said and done
You are the only one
Crying over a departed lover
Dec 5, 2015
Dec 5, 2015 at 8:59 PM UTC
*at night you can spot him strolling the pavement,
the modern archimedes, with a bottle of bavaria beer,
using his cigarette lighter to detail the bottle cap
with one smooth use of leverage, as taught
by paul the ex-convict, the hopeful dub-step d.j.*
the 19th century had its pan-slavism,
but given there’s a union between the germanic people
and slavic people while mama siberia is
left behind freezing,
outside with the big bad wolves and bears -
having exported serious existential literature
of doom and grooming gloom to scandinavia,
the balkan slavs still uncertain, rejected in favour
of the bulgars and the romanians,
i can mention the northern slavic trans-slavism,
not quiet trans-gender, such a linguistic surgery of the soul
requires little details like:
my point was proved about the up-turned nose in england
concerning public intellectuals... they do great cornish pastry
and music anyway, let the french do the thinking
and find joy in it -
plus reading philosophy books
in english is like pulling your teeth out, standing in a bucket of
ice cold water with someone setting fire to your hair.
Nov 6, 2015
Nov 6, 2015 at 9:00 AM UTC
everywhere i go there's a cop
not a real cop, but someone trying to convict me
incarcerated by their eyes
i'm stuck in their cell and they restrict me
everywhere i go there's a God
not a real God, but someone trying to judge me
i'm condemned by their eyes
i'm stuck in their hell and they begrudge me
Aug 24, 2016
Aug 24, 2016 at 10:07 PM UTC
I am a criminal,
A low down ***** convict,
Robbing old ladies and turning the youth into like minded thugs and killers.
With my gun, I can turn any day into new years eve.
Bang! Pow!
I've just shown you how,
I ***** somebody's light out.
I live by the gun
Ready to pull it out and start blasting away,
And if you're in the way?
I hope you've had an eventful final day.
One more body to my death toll is of little consequence.
And to those who choose to cross me
will be dealt with in a premeditated sequence.
So many women I've widowed,
So many children I've left with only half a family.
Do I care?
No.
For my heart is as black as my skin
I have no feelings of remorse or empathy.
Or do I?
Am I really this despicable person?
Is what I've just said is not me at all,
Or just what people perceive me to be.
The truth is, that's all it is
A perception
A perverted perception forced upon me and others like me by illogical stereotypes,
A perverted perception perpetuated to the the point where it has become the status quo,
A belief so deeply ingrained in the minds of the masses that I become public enemy number one, two and three,
so deeply ingrained that I should not know what it means to be free,
so deeply ingrained that I should not even be given the change to better myself.
Does this perception out rank reality?
Does conceptuality govern the actuality of reality?
If so, I perceive this world to be full of ****
Oct 18, 2020
Oct 18, 2020 at 5:37 AM UTC