"jailed" poems
Makes women feel useless,
And men defenseless
She feels she's to blame,
While he feels talking about it is such a shame,
How will they possibly free their minds from the pain,
If they don't talk about this act of disdain,
They'd love to,
But don't know how to,
Perhaps telling it to a good soul,
Willing to listen and provide good counsel,
And not forgetting to put behind bars the body that jailed your soul.
Sep 25, 2015
Sep 25, 2015 at 10:51 AM UTC
William Saroyan said, "I ruined my
life by marrying the same woman
twice."
there will always be something
to ruin our lives,
William,
it all depends upon
what or which
finds us
first,
we are always
ripe and ready
to be
taken.
ruined lives are
normal
both for the wise
and
others.
it is only when
that life
ruined
becomes ours
we realize
then
that the suicides, the
drunkards, the mad, the
jailed, the dopers
and etc. etc.
are just as common
a part of existence
as the gladiola, the
rainbow
the
hurricane
and nothing
left
on the kitchen
shelf.
11.8k
I feel jailed in my own body
socially forced to conceive
emotionally sick
hurt within
Scared to transmit pain
in this age of depression
reminding my ancestors' culpability;
will I also hurt my descendant?
Struggling to finish a phd
in this age of precarity
thinking it might push me;
Or, will I fail it all?
Aug 3, 2018
Aug 3, 2018 at 4:46 PM UTC
The Destroyer of the division machine1
Had first to run on the Way of the Cross
To have souls over the long lived ruin.
Robben, Pollsmoor and Victor2 caused no loss
In the Staff Heritage of the Thembu3
Rulers, forever loved by their people,
From whom was learnt right fight ain’t to taboo.
Good farmers’ teeth run right through the apple;
Likely after the Hard Walk to Freedom4
The Son of Gadla and Nosekeni5,
When his Soul flies up to the Lord’s Kingdom,
Glass will keep his body, and not any
Stain will sully the Star of the Nation
Whose Light will shine for each generation.
1. The division machine: The Apartheid.
2. Robben, Pollsmoor and Victor: During twenty seven years Mandela was successively jailed at Robben Island, Pollsmoor and Victor Verster prisons.
3. Thembu: The tribe over which ruled Mandela’s ancestors.
4. Hard Walk to Freedom: In September 1953, Andrew Kunene, a co-militant of his, read out Mandela's "No Easy Walk to Freedom" speech at a Transvaal ANC meeting; the title was taken from a quote by Indian independence leader Jawaharlal Nehru, a seminal influence on Mandela's thought. The speech laid out a contingency plan for a scenario in which the ANC was banned.
5. Gadla (Henry Mphakanyiswa): Mandela’s father; Nosekeni ***** His mother.
Boniface
Jun 27, 2013
Jun 27, 2013 at 8:33 AM UTC
I have nothing better to do
when it rains so I go to the pier
on vacation with my pole and chicken necks
and rusted traps, drive down
to where the kayaks wait
in the mud, stop to smell
where fresh fish float through
brackish waters and tie a knot
at the end of my string, attach a bob
and minnow and cast
out towards the bay spotting
dead skates and hope
for mackerel and striper,
how my father taught me be gentle
I tie the necks to string and let the meat sink
below the surface and wait to be caught
up with delicious ****** poultry
to feed on and get trapped behind
the jailed walls. I hope the blue
crab knows I had to drive over
the county line in my shoddy white
pickup to the quiet co-op
when she bites into the chicken
for our dinner.
Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 11:06 PM UTC
Darkness seeps between my fingertips
Even when my hands are clutched to my face as tightly as I can when I am crying alone
Fingernails digging into my skin
To remind myself that it is real
Sleeves pulled over my fingertips
So no one is forced to see the hideous things
Especially me
The way a murderer's mother shuts her son's old bedroom door at night when he has been jailed
To shut out the memories
Concealing what is unpleasant
At night I don't wear makeup
So when I wake up at 2AM to use the washroom
I keep the lights off
And fumble blindly through the black air to find the door handle
So I don't have to look at myself
It's getting worse everyday
A new kind of pain
And I don't understand
Why it hurts so much
But I think I'm going to stop telling people about it
I'm going to stop mentioning it no matter how much it hurts
I'm going to stop being self-deprecating in public
Because it just comes across vain, self-pitying, annoying, attention-seeking and fake
I want people to stop telling me I'm pretty
I want them to stop lying to me
Even if it just to spare my feelings
So I will stop putting them in situations
Where they must lie to me to be polite
I'm just going to be silent now
They already have to know how ugly I am on the outside
No one needs to know
What an ugly mind I have
Nov 28, 2014
Nov 28, 2014 at 4:09 PM UTC
Evil & crime so predictable & stale.
Stupid how arrested suspects get bail.
Convicted when their victims tell.
Prison is where some stay & are jailed.
They have to communicate by mail.
Sometimes their focus goes in another direction.
Where probation happens after correction.
Child & spousal abuse, drug use, & rehab that is no use.
History repeats
Wives & children still get beat.
Their isn't always a Superman or Batman to be your hero.
With a sword or crossbow.
Details of armed robbery , drug dealing & smuggling.
Stabbings & muggings.
On the inside homosexual love with cuddling.
Human trafficking & prostitution.
Violating amendments & constitutions.
They are how they are from how they were raised.
If their victims could speak from the grave
Or had they been saved.
They could explain & describe how their rapists & killers behaved.
Male & females do their time.
Years in custody for their crimes.
Seriousness of their offenses vary.
Some educate, get jobs, or marry.
Behind bars is where violence belongs.
To be punished for all that they did wrong.
Some from death row are now dead.
Similar to the wildlife in a zoo behind bars they get fed.
Feb 8, 2015
Feb 8, 2015 at 11:11 PM UTC
Under silver wing
San Francisco's towers sprouting
thru thin gas clouds,
Tamalpais black-breasted above Pacific azure
Berkeley hills pine-covered below--
Dr Leary in his brown house scribing Independence
Declaration
typewriter at window
silver panorama in natural eyeball--
Sacramento valley rivercourse's Chinese
dragonflames licking green flats north-hazed
State Capitol metallic rubble, dry checkered fields
to Sierras- past Reno, Pyramid Lake's
blue Altar, pure water in Nevada sands'
brown wasteland scratched by tires
Jerry Rubin arrested! Beaten, jailed,
coccyx broken--
Leary out of action--"a public menace...
persons of tender years...immature
judgement...pyschiatric examination..."
i.e. Shut up or Else Loonybin or Slam
Leroi on *** gun rap, $7,000
lawyer fees, years' negotiations--
SPOCK GUILTY headlined temporary, Joan Baez'
paramour husband Dave Harris to Gaol
Dylan silent on politics, & safe--
having a baby, a man--
Cleaver shot at, jail'd, maddened, parole revoked,
Vietnam War flesh-heap grows higher,
blood splashing down the mountains of bodies
on to Cholon's sidewalks--
Blond boys in airplane seats fed technicolor
Murderers advance w/ Death-chords
Earplugs in, steak on plastic
served--Eyes up to the Image--
What do I have to lose if America falls?
my body? my neck? my personality?
June 19, 1968
4.5k
you were just one man.
jailed for infinity.
you never bent.
stronger than steel.
oppressed from day one.
segregated by your skin.
you were never broken.
stronger than steel.
the odds were against you.
against your entire race.
your faith never wavered.
stronger than steel.
i walked where you laid.
where you eat, where you ran.
your land gave me strength.
stronger than steel.
your love was so unending.
your hate, no where to be found.
you saved a who nation.
stronger than steel.
Madiba. Madiba.
Nelson Mandela
the original superman.
Stronger then Steel.
Oct 30, 2014
Oct 30, 2014 at 1:06 AM UTC
You can tell a lot about
A person by the ones he admires.
Another telling factor is
The people whom he inspires.
Donald Trump, for example,
Praises Putin, a leader who
Has jailed dissenters, squashed human rights,
And done away with opponents, too.
After a questionable referendum,
Which restricts in many ways
Civil rights, the leader of Turkey,
Erdoğan, received Trump's praise.
Duterte of the Philippines--
Authoritarian and leading official--
Has had thousands of people killed
In a manner blatantly extrajudicial.
So that's his way of solving the problem
Of drugs in the Philippines is it?
And guess who wants the blood-thirsty,
Despotic leader to come for a visit?
And then there's the leader of North Korea,
Kim Jong Un. Only a rookie
Would say that the mad, unhinged and murderous
Leader was a "pretty smart cookie."
Trump's had business ties with three
Of the above countries. There's no mistaking.
But does this mean that a Trump Tower
In Pyongyang is in the making?
-by Bob B (5-3-17)
May 3, 2017
May 3, 2017 at 9:57 AM UTC
The Birds Fly into the eclipse of Mars,
They're lives tithe me by fives,
To the Man beyond those jailed bars.
Searching for a new place to call home,
Since this place is a waste of space,
For everyone an then some.
But with especial selfishness, especially me.
I need to beat my heart again, by meeting those I once found sweet,
Birds flying to the Eclipse of mars to be free.
Its futile of course,
But that is where beauty is truly entreated,
Into our lives of insignificant remorse.
Get me out of here now.
We'll go flying just like those birds, into the eclipse Of mars,
Just me and you, the gorgeous Queen of the Stars,
Your smile radiates my Milky way and beyond,
We'll navigate the asteroid belts,
And fly through the black holes,
Because like those futile birds,
We just want to be free.
Mar 31, 2010
Mar 31, 2010 at 12:51 AM UTC
A microcosm of the world was what I would say
and the hurt kept coming in every way
Money religion and all that can divide
it was all used to hurt my pride
Friends, parents, and heritage were to blame
When love is not love its all the same
Where is the "for better" where is there "for worse"
believing more of what's out there, that's the curse
Lied about, framed, and hurt deeply with neurological drugs
aligning herself with common thugs
Thousands of magical moments they really did bring joys
even though they are now used for other people's toys
Deep in our hearts they'll never go away
How I love you in every way
I don't care what anybody will say
More Roses from me to you on more of your special days
your are of my greatest gift s in my life and our moments I will always cherish
there are no words, no actions, no charades that can blemish
our bread is buttered today that's what we say
some creativity will find another way
so many things remind me of you
not the worst human being alive deserves what happened in lieu
In my mind I gave more than I ever I could
The drugs made hardened feelings do what they would
stock market losses another reason to blame
moving and changing lost much more just the same
but all the justifiers come out to make sure she disapproved
when all our lives were changed with her horrible moves
when all chances taken were for love and generosity
and all she could see to make her right was animosity
No human being could ever bare to hear the pains I suffered
and to even reveal the truth takes all I have to muster
but the truth is that I would do it all again
if that was the price for you to see
the beauty beyond all attachments and the splendor in thee
Nelson Mandela, Martin Luther King, Socrates, Galileo and more have been jailed
and what were the greatest truths ever and how they later sailed
Unconditionally loving you and that is what will always be in me
and for that I am the luckiest person I can be
Jan 3, 2014
Jan 3, 2014 at 8:53 PM UTC
The solitary reminder,
a sole survivor,
hopeful-placed,
forgivingly encased
in little boxes decorative
hidden in plain sight
throughout our home.
Single and incomplete,
the lonesome leftovers,
openly hid upon bookshelf,
desk corners, fireplace mantels,
storage units of the
I am unlost,
I am unfound,
Raise your hand,
stand up and say
that is me,
that is me.
Minor treasure chests,
of carved wood, seashell real,
acquisitions of trips
to faraway places,
these boxes, they themselves,
visible but unremembered,
just there, no cares,
no one knows,
when or why.
that is me,
is that me?
Space fillers, memory taunts,
grandchildren's playthings, delight,
when they someday come visit,
weather and parents permitting,
finding keys for locks, doors,
from three homes ago.
Can they unlock me too?
Boxes hoard the things
we have lost, but cannot discard,
can't sacrifice, gotta keep,
an admixture of buttons,
dried flowers, faded notes that
once upon a time mattered,
shook someone's world...
Some kept in hope,
others, sequestered, lock-up,
jails that we are both
jailor and jailed,
the joke being on me.
Should we, you and I,
exchange these
cases histories of lost hopes, memories,
it would not be surprising,
if when opened,
the contents identical,
even if you are in Manila,
Leeds, places of need,
and yet,
we would be shocked,
asking,
*that is me,
is that me?*
Dec 9, 2013
Dec 9, 2013 at 6:34 AM UTC
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…open wide! The all-new Angus third-pounder…”
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…illiteracy: an incurable disease or education malpractice…”
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…childhood obesity is at an all-time high…”
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…suicide bomber, 10 people dead…”
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…teachers on strike again…”
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…Michael Jackson…”
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…another Amber Alert has been issued…”
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…number of Americans going hungry increases…”
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…ninety-six billion pounds of food go to waste each year…”
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…Nicole Kidman loves her new *****
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…another soldier was killed yesterday in a firefight…”
BTZZZZZZZZ
“...you can do to protect against H1N1…”
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…live the rainbow, taste the rainbow…”
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…the King of Pop…”
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…confirmed: the remains belonged to 6 year old…”
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…boy refuses to pledge allegiance unless gays and lesbians have equal rights...”
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…scientist reveals her secret life as a **********
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…police are waiting on a positive ID on the girl’s body...”
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…Michael Jackson...”
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…actor who played Santa Claus jailed for having *** with boys…”
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…Iran is restarting their nuclear facility…”
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…armed teen jumped the pizza delivery man…”
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…woman who has three hundred ******* a day finally meets her dream man…”
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…why we love Taylor Swift…”
BTZZZZZZZZ
“fifteen year old son, shot by his father, has died tonight…”
BTZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ [click]
Jan 3, 2010
Jan 3, 2010 at 8:25 PM UTC
Living life on the edge--
Always wondering when the next
Unearthly shiver, the next
Wave would crest and fall on you and
Everything would slow down for a few
Seconds
(They felt like hours)
When your insides would
Flip and freeze and
Everything was out to get you
But you were--
Stuck between cobwebs, face
Contorting (only on the inside)
--A short eternity
Jailed between the suffocating
Walls of your crimson-coloured
Mind.
(No escape)
Sep 2, 2015
Sep 2, 2015 at 3:43 AM UTC
I'm on Urge;
Do not Judge;
I love Fudge;
With all my Grudge;
~
Like Such;
Wanted so Much;
But i was Clutch;
Ate on a Brunch;
~
On a Saturday;
Like in May;
Let me Say;
Was in Clay...;
~
It was Good;
Like my Mood;
That i Could;
Send a ****
~
And in Despair;
I had a Flair;
But to be Fair;
I didn't Care;
--------
I'm Lost;
What's the Cost?;
I got Exhaust;
By the Frost;
~
I've Failed;
Got Jailed;
It Scaled;
Blackmailed...;
~
They're Blind;
Can't Find;
And Bind;
Got no Mind;
~
Left a Mark;
In the Dark;
Like a Quark;
Instable as a Shark;
~
In this Blend;
I Attend;
She my Friend;
Brings the END.
Oct 1, 2018
Oct 1, 2018 at 7:13 PM UTC
Here comes the shadow not looking where it is going,
And the whole night will fall; it is time.
Here comes the little wind which the hour
Drags with it everywhere like an empty wagon through leaves.
Here comes my ignorance shuffling after them
Asking them what they are doing.
Standing still, I can hear my footsteps
Come up behind me and go on
Ahead of me and come up behind me and
With different keys clinking in the pockets,
And still I do not move. Here comes
The white-haired thistle seed stumbling past through the branches
Like a paper lantern carried by a blind man.
I believe it is the lost wisdom of my grandfather
Whose ways were his own and who died before I could ask.
Forerunner, I would like to say, silent pilot,
Little dry death, future,
Your indirections are as strange to me
As my own. I know so little that anything
You might tell me would be a revelation.
Sir, I would like to say,
It is hard to think of the good woman
Presenting you with children, like cakes,
Standing in doorways, flinging after you
Little endearments, like rocks, or her silence
Like a whole Sunday of bells. Instead, tell me:
Which of my many incomprehensions
Did you bequeath me, and where did they take you? Standing
In the shoes of indecision, I hear them
Come up behind me and go on ahead of me
Wearing boots, on crutches, barefoot, they could never
Get together on any door-sill or destination-
The one with the assortment of smiles, the one
Jailed in himself like a forest, the one who comes
Back at evening drunk with despair and turns
Into the wrong night as though he owned it-oh small
Deaf disappearance in the dusk, in which of their shoes
Will I find myself tomorrow?
2.3k
*1) Your eyes killed me without mercy
2) Your lips made me an addict
3) My heart keeps gossiping about you all the time
4) Since I saw you, I forgot the rest
5) You stole my heart and hid it
6) You merged with my soul and I don't know who I am anymore
7) You occupy my imagination all the time
9) You jailed me waiting for your answer
10) You teared my eyes when they thought they were not going to see you again
Your sins are forgiven if you say* ...
"I love you"
Dec 7, 2014
Dec 7, 2014 at 6:13 PM UTC
Journeyman Pictures
Will take you on a journey
The DVB journalists
Jailed and tortured
They showed the military
Shooting at protesters
They hid on the balcony and filmed
They got footage
Of the Japanese journalist
Who was shot by the military
Another journalist
Helped make
An award winning
Documentary
About the devistating
Cyclone that hit Cambodia
In 2009
He was captured and jailed
For years
He had promised to write
The girl he met
From his documentary
But could not because
He was jailed
He made his own guitar
While he was
Wrongfully jailed
He is a good man
He just wanted to show
What the people were going through
Now he has been released
An executive from DVB media
Came to talk
With the Burmese officials
In 2009
About having their own
Official office
Some of the journalists
Have spoken out
About how they
Were tortured
Things are improving
Although it is a process
I hope DVB succeeds
And is not pestered
Or persecuted by the government
Any longer
This poem is dedicated
To the journalists
Who went through
Great hardships
To show the injustices
Of their government
Who wanted to document
What the people
Went through
After the cyclone
Oct 15, 2015
Oct 15, 2015 at 4:09 PM UTC
Year 1 - June 30th was the day I fell in love with you. It was rough at first, you were always stealing me away silently like no one knew I exsisted. No one cared about me at the time, you knew that I was bound to be all alone in my life of how I was. I just wished it wasn't you but **** you stole my heart this beatiful year.
Year 2 - It was young love for the both of us, I taken it rough cause I was so in love with you I loved spending my time with you, even when we drank, you treated me like your girlfriend. But I had those dark days where it bugged me that I loved you most and I spent most of my days with you which I could've did way much better with schooling and all that other stuff but I managed then people really started to care about me but I didn't care about their care about me cause I know I was bound to be alone, after they starting really looking for me and realized that I was with you but they couldn't do anything about it, was too late for that now.
Year 3 - I'm sure it was in the winter, you got into trouble with playing with guns, and jailed for a week, and you couldn't be around the community due to danger to the community for a year. I decided to move to the city where you were staying, I didn't mind the city but at the time I started seeing someone from the community, I missed you but I also missed the community and I couldn't do this anymore babysitting and not being able to get my freedom. you had to go get into more trouble in the city when I left and got more jail time you were gone for a long while.
Year 4 - Things weren't working out for you and me. I know that you really wanted me back. But I was with someone else and he didn't want to let me go, he kept me silent like he was ashamed to have me or just didn't want to show me off. I was starting to become his joke or whatever I can call it. I loved him, he's kept in the dark from his family but accepted by my family. Could say I was with him for like a year, till he really started to see someone from the city. I left him I'm angry cause he was a keeper but man he is dark so I kind of didn't like that, hiding on me whenever he wanted like I was never apart of his life. I got fed up of this and left it hurted but it didn't hurt as much as losing my first love.
Year 5 - We aparted. My second love I left him or we just wanted to apart. I wanted my true lover back I did whatever I wanted to do. All adult and what not and no one can stop me now and no one can do anything too. I pray that I haven't chosed the wrong path. with this guy I'm hoping to be his partners in crime. I'm back with you my love, I did tell you that I love you cause you wanted to hear it and I never said it to you ever till that night. Our birthdays are coming up, I'm looking forward to spending it with you.
Oct 3, 2015
Oct 3, 2015 at 11:34 PM UTC
Breaking things is vandalism,
And vandals deserve a 6×9×12 cell,
But what of sportspersons?
They keep breaking records,
Mostly someone else's records,
And sometimes their own.
Shouldn't they be jailed?
Jan 6, 2016
Jan 6, 2016 at 11:51 PM UTC
We dreamed of becoming more than what we were.
And we escaped in the smoke that filled the room.
Our souls trapped...
Jailed behind our ribcages.
So we sat there...
Changing out the records.
Mouthing all the lyrics.
Waiting for the perfect moment to speak words.
Those times never came...
Instead we became more silent.
Inhaling the smoke.
Exhaling it all the same.
And I sat there wondering what else was out there.
I felt so comfortable in your surroundings.
Too high to realize what was really going on.
I broke the cycle.
The routine of a roller coaster ride that wasn't fun.
Longing for something more.
Wondering if I deserved better.
Even when I thought you were the best...
I started to question that.
My love for you may never die...
But my addictions did.
My tears brought on the clouds.
And I had to follow the sun.
No more.
No more tears.
No more love to give to you.
Apr 27, 2014
Apr 27, 2014 at 6:20 AM UTC
*Lips of an angel
Her skin, sun-kissed
Hard to bid farewell
Beauty descends upon her bliss.
That curve on her lips
The structure of those hips
Her smile, jailed you in ecstasy
For her, your nights you skip.
Exploring deeper down,
Her beauty matches her ego
Her body hides her corrupt soul
Jealousy, hatred and disloyalty
Her heart—rotten, beastly and stole.*
Apr 1, 2014
Apr 1, 2014 at 10:32 AM UTC
The human imperative tells you this if
nobody tried to live this way the useful world would be in vain.
A man, like me, sitting on this sagging bed, staring at the green
greased stained walls disgusted with the human imperative is unique.
I detest the ***** smell in the dingy brown halls and
the communal bathroom with bugs on the wall.
I know why you had me taken away not jailed this time.
I didn't hit you just spilled whiskey on your imperative new
furniture and dress. Now, whiskey is spilled on this brown
stained carpet and I have no more money. You saw to that!
I'm too sick to panhandle. Nothing to pawn. And the human
imperative makes me sicker. It doesn't consider really gut
hunger for love, *** food, sleep, oblivion from the mind's
torments of failure. I didn't expect much from this life.
My brilliance kept me above the rest. I am brilliant enough to
know life can end here till they throw you in the alley to die.
There is no where to go. You say recovery? I say, Bull!
No one recovers from a plan like this. Not when you were
King of the road. Not when you wouldn't concede to others
needs because they were banal and stupid and nobody
accepted you drunk. I didn't hit you this time. I know when
I hit you. Some don't. I know I made a mess and was bad.
**** it, once in awhile one of us gets away. They do, imperative
or not...
Nov 12, 2010
Nov 12, 2010 at 9:06 AM UTC