"heists" poems
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Bonnie & Clyde
You held my hart in your hands and my soul in your mouth, we watched the moon slip through the dark knight, A lullaby of blood and sticky labels, reach for the sky, reach for the sky, No more dollars, No more heists, No more; No more, Bonnie & Clyde.
won't you save me, for I've been running all my life, I've been sinning, I've been stealing and I know that that ain't right, won't you save me, won't you teach me right from wrong, I've been sinning, I've been stealing, please take me home.
We sang to the pound of the engine, you lay your head in my lap, so sweet so simple, you toyed with the coins in my pocket, reach for the sky, reach for the sky, No more dollars, No more heists, No more; No more, Bonnie & Clyde.
won't you save me, for I've been running all my life, I've been sinning, I've been stealing and I know that that ain't right, won't you save me, won't you teach me right from wrong, I've been sinning, I've been stealing, please take me home.
We danced to the backdrop of yellow fields, spattered with red confetti, shookhands with the devil, all dressed in rags, reach for the sky, reach for the sky, No more dollars, No more heists, No more; No more, Bonnie & Clyde.
The devil he has taken me, and I can't run no more, No more sinning or stealing, for now my life is done; you can't save me, You can't teach me right from wrong, No more sinning, No more stealing, For now this soul has gone.
Ten cops, camera and a smile, Photo for a trophy, V8 Ford full of holes, reach for the sky, reach for the sky, No more dollars, No more heists, No more; No more, Bonnie & Clyde.
Jan 9, 2019
Jan 9, 2019 at 10:07 AM UTC
She eats words seasoned with moonbeams
When she goes she leaves behind dreams
Where she dances time no longer exists
She’ll steal all your stories off into the mists
From her sparkly toes to the tips of her wings
To her voice sweetly trilling as she softly sings
To see her is to love her with all of your soul
To love her is to let her devour you whole
Good night, sleep cozy, dream of falling in love
Dream of dragon pirates plaguing the stars above
Dream of heists, of adventures, of running away
Of anything, everything, except that you’re prey
NCL May 2019
May 2, 2019
May 2, 2019 at 5:08 PM UTC
That night, you stole,
Something precious from me.
One glance, my heart,
Couldn’t disagree.
Everything was fine until
I walked in on your last ****
Even though the signs all showed, I didn’t know
That you’re just evil.
I catch you sneaking out at night,
I knew something wasn’t right.
I thought that I knew you.
It’s always robberies in progress
Or some threat you made to Congress.
By the way you got some blood on your shoes.
Don’t try to distract me,
You always side track me
Your outfit does attract me, let’s get back to my point.
Thought it was love at first sight
But you just want to plan heists.
Am I just someone you see you can exploit?
And she said
“You’re my minion now.”
Jan 22, 2020
Jan 22, 2020 at 3:02 PM UTC
Through my eyes everything seemed perfect
everything is luxurious
through my eyes i saw
the Waldorf Astoria
continental breakfasts,cruises,jets,limos
All i saw are expensive watches,sun glasses
the best of everything
but what i couldn't see was
the famines in Africa
the wars in Syria and Afghanistan
the everyday killings,kidnappings,heists
I was surrounded by luxuries
blocking out all the evil
I was surrounded by an army of guards
I never realized
that they weren't paid to follow me,
they were there to protect me
but i never appreciated them
their bravery
and in a blink of an eye
I HAD LOST EVERYTHING
and suddenly
the people in Africa were eating
the wars ended
the killings,murders,heists were being controlled
and everything through my eyes were
mud houses,donkey carts,torn clothes
boiled potatoes and peas
and the rich people who enjoyed all the things i once had
Mar 26, 2014
Mar 26, 2014 at 10:15 AM UTC
It was the grandest of heists
The most elaborate of schemes
You had me under your charm
Every moment like a dream
You have stolen the one thing
I was sworn to protect
Broke off the cage and took it
Then left it for dead
Now lying in the middle of the streets
All ****** and weak
You stand in front of me
A twisted smile between your cheeks
You got me where you wanted me
It was your plan all along
To string me like a melody in your symphony
Of broken-hearted songs
Oct 14, 2017
Oct 14, 2017 at 7:13 PM UTC
My ledger is in the red...
attention paid compounds interest,
rate of return for what you invest
in my vault, principal assets are secured
though a few heists and audits have been endured
since this place is not F.D.I.C. insured
transparent business practices are assured
though custom to ask from the start:
which services led you to my heart?
My ledger is in the red.
Dec 16, 2015
Dec 16, 2015 at 3:32 PM UTC
Penelope is sitting at the kitchen table.
She has a large manila envelope spilled
out across the red plastic surface.
There are about 50 blank greeting cards,
the fronts of these have pictures of butterflies,
palm trees, puppies, strawberry patches, assorted
flowers and birds, and artist’s renderings of quiet places
in nature.
Penelope is writing things down on a yellow legal pad
and contemplating the art on the fronts of the blank cards.
Penelope is working.
About once a month, the Renaissance Greeting Card Co.
sends one of these manila envelopes full of blank cards for her
to ponder.
Sometimes while she ponders,
she drinks wine.
Other pondering sessions require ginger ale
or coffee.
She tells me that the wine is the best lubricant for
the ponderings of wholesale sentiments and she writes
one down on her legal pad.
When she has turned each blank into, what she believes to be, a
suitable greeting card, we will sit together and number the blanks
with black marker, I will type up the sentiments and match them to their
corresponding blank, we will stuff these into the supplied return envelope
and mail the whole mess back to Renaissance Greeting Card Co.
A few weeks later, Penelope will receive a check in the mail.
I am in the bedroom.
I have a little corner desk set up in there.
On this desk, is a typewriter, an ashtray, and a tennis ball.
Sometimes, if I run out of ideas, I’ll chuck the tennis ball at the wall
and catch it on the return bounce for a while.
Usually, I drink coffee while I do the chucking, sometimes it’s
whiskey.
I write stories about bank robberies, diamond heists, or other
tales of daring do.
Sometimes I write prose poems
about what Penelope and I do
on a Wednesday afternoon.
When I have enough of these to fill a manila envelope
or two, I send them off to various editors/publishers of
magazines/rags I have found that serve a particular
audience for these sorts of writings.
Sometimes I get a check in the mail,
sometimes I don’t.
But, there’s always another Wednesday afternoon.
***
-JBClaywell
©P&ZPublications; 2016
May 7, 2016
May 7, 2016 at 3:22 PM UTC
Tired eyes
Sleepless nights
A million heists
Still none arise
Fallen fool
Drawn the pool
Who may leave
I can't believe
Jun 16, 2025
Jun 16, 2025 at 6:44 PM UTC
Dum
Da da dum
Da da duuuuuum
Just outside a month
And twenty five days further from
A widower will take his life
Neither the body, nor the name will be known
A person, a being, who in the next year or so
Perhaps notorious of
Blood feuds, bank heists, and back alley exploits
Will be pure future myth
With talks of
In the soon to be abandoned old pick up truck of theirs
A gallon of gas with room to be half
Will spill out onto the cold, black
A quarter to four in the mornin'
Asphalt
Green-yellow dregs of diesel will ease their way down the vehicle
A Friday with fog will roll in from the west
A dog, a mutt perhaps
Will sniff its way past the front end of the tree trashed truck
The motor will jolt in and out of its normal sequence
In discordant chugging pitter-patter accordion metal-licks of ruckus
Like in the days to come
Death's canine will want an impression
Of his master's woodwork
With barks of
After all that I will have been through
And 'fore I will have known your name
And after all I will have done for you
You will have dug yourself a shallow grave
A shallow grave
A shallow grave
A shallow grave
Jan 15, 2024
Jan 15, 2024 at 9:34 AM UTC