"lifer" poems
The things I'd do to be with you
Would put me away for good;
So, here I wait in solitude,
No sun, no moon, no light.
I've dug deep to break out,
I've climbed walls in my sleep;
I've dealt and knelt,
Held my hands out
To supplicate for pardon.
But I'm a repeat offender,
A schmuck and poor pretender;
A pled lifer for loving you.
Sep 25, 2018
Sep 25, 2018 at 9:25 AM UTC
As skylarks departed
At rue in sorrow; --
Broke me half-hearted
From sever tears
And narrow --
Narrow, of my fears,
Which lolls
To the broken lily
That un-rolls
Her half-winged angels --
Wan and chilly,
To the pinions of the angels
Frore and chilly --
As skylarks departed
In tint of pearl;
Iris skies started
To sever the years
Of a little girl
That frolic wind swirl --
And lolls
To the broken lily
That un-rolls
Her half-winged angels --
Wan and chilly,
To the pinions of the angels
Frore and chilly --
As skylarks departed
In butterfly hue;
Spread far plumes parted
From severing peers,
With gossamer and dew
Drip upon me too.
And on it lolls
To the broken lily
That un-rolls
Her half-winged angels --
Wan and chilly,
To the pinions of the angels
Frore and chilly --
As skylarks departed,
Birds they cipher
Once were all parted
For sever cheers
They decipher
The stream of a sad lifer
That so lolls
To the broken lily
That un-rolls
Her half-winged angels --
Wan and chilly,
To the pinions of the angels
Frore and chilly --
When skylarks dis-hearted
Of a sussurous stream
Follow with rue darted
In my sever tears,
I've bled to cry and scream
As flown pass a dream.
And thus so lolls
To the broken lily
(As skylarks departed)
That un-rolls
(And broke me half-hearted)
Her half-winged angels --
Wan and chilly,
(From sever tears)
To the pinions of the angels
Frore and chilly --
(And shallow, of my fears)
Jul 4, 2011
Jul 4, 2011 at 11:22 AM UTC
He was equipped with a fine vocabulary
Far in excess of his intellectual needs
An entertaining fool
Stocked with dictionaries
Obscure constructions
Medieval verbs
Circumlocutory, verbose
Impenetrable
A simple mind hid amongst
A confusion of entangled phrases
As if using a foreign language
Assembling hopefully meaningful phrases
Where a listener may find coherence
A simple message
Every request
Every Statement
Observation
From his mouth, no matter how mundane
Appeared decorated
Embellished, almost..
Baroque
In this wordy fog
It was hard to know
Hard to find
Traces of a real person
A tangible, relatable identity
Something predictable.
In the swirling wind of
Constantly shifting
Complex expressions
Seeming riddles.
He was a prisoner
A lifer
Doomed to remain
Incarcerated in his usage
Dense, cloying, exaggerated, unyielding
Usage
He could not avoid
Unconscious, reflexive, merciless
He did not struggle,
That ended long ago.
Jul 29, 2014
Jul 29, 2014 at 2:15 AM UTC
A black cat with a grin and
A scythe, slashing thru
Space-time with a giggle
Invulnerable & finite. Untouchable rabbit
Stretches it's torso many meters out
Evading a cannonball.
Time to go to work; no doors here!
Rabbit shaped hole in the wall
Ever never fear!
4 Thirty minutes on a Sat. morning network
Talking animals accordion back
From falling crate crushes
Index fingers stretch their cheeks
Ha ha ha ha!
& a wagging red tongue, almost all week.
Piano dangling by a thread
Shrinking Shadow under your feet
It's right above your head!
You step aside just in time -
An anvil smashes you instead.
Too hard to explain to a real-lifer:
This has no point!
Jun 5, 2012
Jun 5, 2012 at 1:44 PM UTC
Hotshot
Potshot
Fool shot
Cool shot
No shot
Yo shot
Shot, shot, shot, shot
Hey hotshot
Can you tell me who’s the shot caller
You’re lookin pretty dreamy
Didn’t mean to be a meany
Some things come so naturally
Shots are ringing from your balcony
So come on Romeo
Take a *** shot
Hotshot
And
Please tell me if I have a
Shot, shot, shot, shot
Hotshot
You’re such a cool shot
Badass
You can call the shots
You can shoot the shots
You got the elevated status
But, you ain’t got no action
You always know what's going down
You nowhere to be found
Because you're the shot caller
And I don’t have a shot
Shot, shot, shot, shot
Do i
Do I
Do I
Hey, hotshot
Can you see
I’m down on my knees
Beggin you please
For a
Shot, shot, shot, shot
Hotshot
You know I’m such a cool shot
And this is so out of character for me
Can’t you see
I can see
You’re laughing at me
For being a fool shot
Please tell me if I have a
Shot, shot, shot, shot
Hotshot
Will I ever see you at my door
Is this it
Nothing more
Looking pretty dreamy
This time, promise
Not to be a meany
Please tell me if I have a
Shot, shot, shot, shot
Dale had a friend
His name was shot
Because he was
Shot, shot, shot, shot
Who lives and who dies
Doesn’t matter when you’re a lifer
You run the prison
Make the decision
That’s not, not, not, not what I mean
Didn’t mean to be mean
So please
Won’t you tell me if I have a
Shot, shot, shot, shot
I’m down on my knees
Beggin you please
For a
Shot, shot, shot, shot
What I really mean is
Who’s the shot caller
What I really mean is
Well I know I’m unrehearsed
But quite well versed
I think you’ll agree
Always with me
I’m never home alone
Don’t pathologize
Just Apologize
For being such a **** **** ****
I know I don’t know how
But I’ll hold your hand
And you can show me how
Then I’ll quickly get off stage
Before it goes to my head
And all I want to do
Is be a deadhead
I mean it quite literally
Always looking for meaning
And that’s what I’m trying to say
My reflection seems to inspire perfection
And that’s not what I mean
Seems I’m always ******* off everyone
With my off the cuff remarks
That set off sparks
And I think it’s quite a lark
But, I’m the only one laughing
So please tell me if I have a
Shot, shot, shot, shot
Before I’m
Dead, dead, dead, dead
Yo shot
Oct 18, 2018
Oct 18, 2018 at 11:43 AM UTC
There's the coffin
Here's the nail
You and your demons
Can go to hell
You need to be grateful
I coulda sent you to jail
Been shiesty and told What I know I should tell
Your *** would be a lifer
They'd never grant you bail
Destroy the key after they locked the cell
But lucky for you
After the months of hell you put me through
And the degrading things
you made me do
I can walk away
With a simple **** YOU.
This is now your game of
one
Not two
So go ahead mother ******
WHAT'S YOUR NEXT MOVE?
May 13, 2020
May 13, 2020 at 5:23 PM UTC
The old neighborhood most of the kids moved off the block. Only one kid still lives there he's the lifer. Most of the kids got in trouble with the law or triangles in their bad habits. Growing up I was the chubby kid but I heard fat more often.
Before my brother passed on I had someone to hang with I have more siblings but I'm the oldest by six year most of my siblings are 3 years apart. I'm the oldest of 6 kids but there's 5 now.
We grew up on a coda sack lived in a 2 bedroom house. I don't like to go back but when I pass by it reminds me of my youth a kid who wanted to get out. I'm not the great big brother but I've learned to understand by watching my siblings grow up.
Apr 12, 2013
Apr 12, 2013 at 2:30 PM UTC
seconds tick by as angry faces look back in disgust
a smile passes over my lips as we all know nothing can be done
this is life in the corrections institution
while I leave at 5 o’clock each day to go home, we share these hours
quiet hostility
combined with the occasional splash of regret
this, however, is usually passed off as an illness
and they go back to their cells, or as I refer to them “their hotel rooms”
as an instructor, the anger is not directed at me
but instead pours out whenever the officers walk by
leaving me to wonder about the reality of after-hours treatment
I sit in a swivel chair watching light bulbs flash into existence
awareness coming into the life of a ‘lifer’
the realization that they too can be more than they imagined
better than they thought
different than the image the department of corrections would have the world believe
proud of themselves I sit humbled
watching the embracing of an experience
and the acceptance of something other than
what their parents, teachers,
and society
told them they were
Feb 21, 2014
Feb 21, 2014 at 5:38 PM UTC
Part one done
adverts on now
waiting for part two
Oct 17, 2016
Oct 17, 2016 at 3:54 PM UTC
It's been said people come into your life for a season, a reason or a lifetime!
Well, the people there for a season although not all negative experiences pass through only.
Then those for a reason probably more to their own benefit!
But those, there for, a lifetime not only give a reason but make us want to be more!
They never leave you no matter the circumstances!
I know my soulmate and although she only sees a season I know my life is to be spent with her!
I hope with all I am she sees this true!
For i’ll be here waiting, I love her beyond all this fighting!
I would do whatever to have her realize this!
Been told of late there is no-one you cannot live without!
Well maybe true to some extent, however, what if there is someone, I wish all I am don't want to be without?
What if my soul seethes for her like lungs desperate for air?
I have to just show her that I am here and if it takes a lifetime for her to see it, ill be sad till the day she does! Yes, sad! although life doesn't allow us to spend all our time together, nor would I think it healthy! But yes sad for every minute I loose with her I cannot regain!
©️
Sep 5, 2018
Sep 5, 2018 at 3:17 AM UTC
Could it be how I was raised that developed the attitude?
Designed to go the distance displaying my aptitude
This world is an enigma, don't get lost in the labyrinth
Feel like I'm fine china tossed in the cabinet
Self-esteem and self worth is self made
Living in the struggle like a bad hand, but well played
A human race more into partying and self destruction
Bottled emotions released for self construction
My motto is do me and the right people will follow
Hit you in the head with reality uneasy to swallow
These trials and tribulations remain a constant on the daily
From the snap of the ball to the grave when you hail Mary
Poetry is my saving grace, my perfect place
When I need to relate or for saving face
Lust, jealousy & envy makes them be a friend to me
Make sure you keep your foes close or the end of me
The chase for woman with taste forbidden
Downfall, whatever it takes for winning
The thrill of victory, agonies of defeat, gradually to my peak
Run this like track & field there's no need to run heats
I'm fine tuned, shine like the beginning of June
Burn you to ashes, Florida bakes when its high noon
Tell me what's rain to a typhoon? A casted shadow on a full moon?
**Eclipse reigns like a monsoon! **(official line right here)
Bringing the pressure like a desert heat, drop you to one knee
Casting illusions like you proposed to me
Be who you are reach the heights where you suppose to be
Words will leave you staggering from the whiff of potency
Love w/ potion number nine, smoother than calamine
Turned my heart upside down, bottom, my valentine
Put it your all and fall hard, don't give your best its on to the next
Separated by genitalia just an opposite *** same intellect for respect & ***
The body is truly a temple, built for longevity
Let your spirit on this earth proclaim it now, heavenly
Age making us wiser in this body as a lifer
Healthy/active lifestyle on my Popeye, time to pay the piper
Dec 30, 2014
Dec 30, 2014 at 10:26 AM UTC
I’ve been needing your lies
I’ve been craving your poison
I’ve been missing your demons
I’ve been loving your hater
While I was playing with death
While it was ******* me upside down
While I was freezing face to hell
I’ve been moaning your name
When my hands were trembling
When my soul was jumping
When my veins were twisting
I howled your April’s farewell
Once Azrael was invited
And the sky was open
Then my mind got naked
Your shadow was my only Savior
My voice was resonating
But from your ears was forbidden
My snow capped depth was on the summit of its alp
Pleading you to be its shield
That’s when you threw it into a dark swamp
Claiming that you were lost in a blinded place
Everything was mute and your bones were broke
But I saw you secretly radiating in a crystal ball
You thought I’m nowhere nearer
Was it amusing to fool a downcast lifer?
You were pushing my destiny to its sharp ending chapter
Below the belts freedom was dedicated to a shrewd sinner
Meanwhile I’ve been taken to where nothing left to catch
Failures over the time of my rotten life have built my forgotten grave
Gloomy butterflies surrounded my sick grove
No flowers to bloom no hope to ****
No words to draw no feelings to touch
No time to rush no remorse to scratch
The door of paradise was barely visible
But the clouds drove me to a fiery jungle
I begged life to be my sucker
One last elegiac parting with winter
But death was an invincible fighter
Loneliness was feeding my blur future
Chiselling out my anxiety within four blank walls
Then stirred up a wild storm of toxic fears
Moving on was the synonym of stuck in a rut
A sterile heart gave up on its darned patience
Charcoaled love erased its existence
Dry tears chained to these anorexic cheeks
You shutdown the light you once heated up
Now I’m sober yet drunk on my coma
Trying to perforate your karma
While cleaning up my ugly Fantasia.
Where I was your moon and you were my star
Apr 10, 2019
Apr 10, 2019 at 4:47 PM UTC
I didn't choose this.
I didn't choose these crushing walls around me.
These walls that "protect" me are just another source of my pain.
I stand at the doorway and watch as a lifer is swept away.
I hear a crack;
My heart it throbs.
I didn't choose to be this way.
My ideas, my worth, forgotten.
My skin defines my future.
Keep your eyes down, don't speak up,
Don't seek pity and NEVER disobey the law.
I didn't choose this country.
Bombs and gunfire fill the sky as kids scream.
We huddle in a building, praying.
Not knowing if we will get clean food for tomorrow.
I didn't choose that night.
The night that he touched me.
I tried to escape, but he hurt me instead.
The bruises and the scars ache as I remember.
The pain, the aggression, have forever tainted me.
I didn't choose this world.
The pollution, the divide.
A masterpiece burned, scarred, destroyed.
Family and friends **** each other.
The issues stack up until they crush us.
I didn't choose this mind;
Plagued by self-hate;
Debating if it's worth it.
Truly it must be better than this.
Right?
We didn't choose these things,
but we can choose to break free of boundaries.
You do have a choice.
Sep 20, 2018
Sep 20, 2018 at 7:38 PM UTC
See, I wanted to
write a poem about depression.
I wanted to have these deep
moving lines.
These philosophical phrases.
I wanted to write a poem
about depression.
I wanted to write about
how when you cut open
your wrists
Flowers and glitter spill out
rather than blood and despair.
I wanted to write about
how when you drink yourself
towards blacking out
you throw up money and happiness
rather than shame and bile.
I wanted to write about how
when you put a bullet through your
jaw, flower petals and joy will
come out rather
than blood and a lifer ended.
I wanted to write a poem
about depression.
But there aren’t any pretty
words to go with depression.
Apr 19, 2015
Apr 19, 2015 at 12:41 PM UTC
*Ma’am
I remember the first time I met her
At the orphanage.
I was a lifer
who wants to adopt fourteen
year old boys?
Apparently no one.
She was so beautiful
and had the most angelic face.
Oh! her smile
it was like bright sunshine.
Unsure of how to address a Nun
I always called her Ma’am.
She did not seem to mind.
I think that was when I realized
she was the only friend I had.
What I did not know was
I was falling in love with her.
I have never seen as much kindness
before or since.
It flowed from her.
She stopped me running away again,
and taught me how to read books,
great books by important authors.
To learn poetry and talk about
its meaning.
At this point I knew I loved her.
That confusing rite of passage
between boyhood and manhood.
She took me to the mission where
the homeless lived and we served
in the free kitchen.
I would follow her anywhere
to be by her side.
She was relocated
after a couple of years
to a mission in Africa.
I was desolate
Begging to go with her
I even asked her to marry me.
She smiled and said
if she was free
she would marry me
in a heartbeat.
But explained gently
to my young heart.
that she was already
married to her faith.
Showing me her gold ring.
She died a few years later
her letters stopped coming.
It was a bout of malaria.
Now when I feel alone
or sad.
I open an old shoe box
and read her stacks of letters
one by one.
Always in the order
that she sent them to me.
And as usual
I feel warm and safe again.*
Nov 1, 2015
Nov 1, 2015 at 10:33 AM UTC
*Ma'am
A Story
By
Jude Kyrie
Ma’am
I remember the first time I met her
At the orphanage.
I was a lifer.
Who adopts fourteen
year old boys?
Apparently no one.
She was beautiful
and had the most angelic face.
Oh! her smile,
it was like sunshine.
Unsure of how to address a Nun
I always called her Ma’am.
She did not seem to mind
I think that was when I realized
she was the only friend I had.
What I did not know was
I was falling in love with her.
That confusing rite of passage
from Boyhood to Manhood.
I have never seen
as much kindness
before or since.
It flowed from her.
She stopped me
from running away again,
and taught me
how to read books
great books
by important authors.
To learn poetry
and to talk about
its meaning.
At this point I knew I loved her.
She took me to the mission where
the homeless lived and we served
in the free kitchen.
I would have followed her anywhere.
She was relocated
after a couple of years.
To a mission in Africa.
I was desolate
Begging to go with her.
I even asked her to marry me.
She smiled and said
if she was free
she would marry me
in a heartbeat.
But explained gently
to my young heart
that she was already
married to her faith.
Showing me her gold ring.
She died a few years later
her letters stopped coming
It was a bout of malaria.
Now when I feel alone or sad.
I open an old shoe box.
the only thing I took
from the orphanage.
And read her stacks of letters.
one by one.
Always in the order
that she sent them to me.
And as usual
I feel warm and safe again*
Feb 13, 2016
Feb 13, 2016 at 3:17 PM UTC
Music is the elixir to my soul
Lyrics make it feel better, after the world has taken its toll
Songs written it seems about me and my life
They make me smile and sing, while others cut like a knife
These sounds may change as quick as a guitar riff
If it's rap, acoustic, or punk rock it makes no big diff
For me everyday I sprinkle in some Tony Sly
Lyrically one of the best, why'd he have to die
“ I need a beat, the sounds to calm me down
Lyrics that are deep that keep me a float while I drown
This world's so ****** it needs a cure, some type of mixture
Everyone needs to slow down, I've got the elixir”
A few of them even use a catchy metaphor
About, how their ex walked all over them like a linoleum floor
These songs bring out the suffering and joy of the people
They all flock to concerts like churchgoers to a steeple
Only a few actually take the time to actually decipher
And once injected with knowledge of a song they become a convicted lifer
So turn up the sound and flip over the records
Let the music dispense with all of life’s discords
“ I need a beat, sounds to calm me down
Lyrics that are deep that keep me a float while I drown
This world's so ****** it needs a cure, some type of mixture
Everyone needs to slow down, I've got the elixir”
Apr 18, 2018
Apr 18, 2018 at 9:26 PM UTC
Don’t want this life
Don’t need this life
Never asked for it
Can’t escape
Fenceless prisoner
Life sentence
Gone baby
Gone
Aug 18, 2019
Aug 18, 2019 at 7:09 PM UTC
I lay here solitarily
my energy sapped from
lesions of my life
everything is useless
the only thing
left is the light
of the candle
burning in my heart
swaying dimmer
each night
as I lay
expectantly
in wait
of her
final
call
Mar 6, 2019
Mar 6, 2019 at 8:35 PM UTC
I always called her Ma'am
A Story poem
By
Jude Kyrie
Ma’am
*I remember the first time
that I met her.
It was at the orphanage.
I was a lifer.
Who adopts fourteen
year old boys?
Who are always running away.
Apparently no one.
She was beautiful.
and had the most angelic face.
Oh! her smile,
it was like purest sunshine.
Unsure of how to address a Nun
I always called her Ma’am.
She did not seem to mind
I think that was when I realized
she was the only friend I had.
What I did not know was
I was falling in love with her.
That confusing rite of passage
from Boyhood to Manhood.
Full of emotions that
I had never felt before.
Or maybe I just needed
someone of my own to love.
I have never seen
as much kindness
before or since.
It flowed from her.
She stopped me
from running away again,
and taught me
how to read books
great books.
by important authors.
To learn poetry
and to talk about
its meaning.
At this point I knew I loved her.
She took me to the mission where
the homeless lived and we served
in the free kitchen together.
I would have followed her to the moon.
She was relocated
after a couple of years.
To a mission in Africa.
I was desolate
Begging to go with her.
I even asked her to marry me.
She smiled and said
if she was free
she would marry me
in a heartbeat.
But explained gently
to my young heart
that she was already
married to her faith.
Showing me her gold ring.
She died a few years later
her letters stopped coming
It was a bout of malaria.
But I believe that God missed her
As much as I did.
Now when I feel alone or sad.
I open an old shoe box.
the only thing I took
from the orphanage.
And read her stacks of letters.
one by one.
Always in the order
that she sent them to me.
And as usual
I feel warm and safe again
My little daughter sometimes
Says who is the pretty lady daddy
I lift her up to look at her picture
closely on the family room wall.
And I say to her
That's sister Angelica honey
She was daddy's best friend.*
Aug 17, 2016
Aug 17, 2016 at 6:43 PM UTC
I wake up every morning and wonder how long I am going to continue to do this.
Am I a lifer?
My how how that term misrepresents the overwhelming dread I feel when I open my eyes and tell myself 'Just one more day.'
May 4, 2016
May 4, 2016 at 6:01 AM UTC
*I remember the first time I met her
It was at the orphanage.
I was going through rehabilitation
after running away for what
turned out to be last of many times
I was a lifer.
Who wants to adopt fourteen
year old boys?
Apparently no one.
She was assigned as my counselor
I don't think I have
ever seen anyone as beautiful as her.
That lovely angelic face.
Oh! Her smile,
it was like sunshine.
Unsure of how to address a Nun
I always called her Ma’am.
She did not seem to mind.
Her heart was so full of kindness
She had me hooked.
I think that was when I realized
she was the only friend
I had in the whole world.
What I did not know was
I was falling in love with her.
That confusing rite of passage
from Boyhood to Manhood
left me dazed and confused.
Or perhaps I just did not know
how badly I needed
someone to love.
Even after all these years.
I have never seen
as much kindness in anyone
before or since.
It flowed from her
like honey.
She stopped me
from running away again,
and taught me
how to read books
great books
by important authors.
To learn poetry
and to talk about
its meaning.
At this point I knew
for sure I loved her.
She took me to
the mission where
the homeless lived.
And we served
in the free kitchen.
When some hungry lost soul
asked why she bothered them
they were all drunks anyway
She said sweetly
It is my privilege to share a meal
with you and your friends.
I would have followed
her to the moon
or anywhere.
She was relocated
after a couple of years.
To a mission in Africa.
I was desolate.
Begging to go with her.
I even asked her to marry me.
She smiled and said
if she was free
she would marry me
in a heartbeat.
But she explained gently
to my young heart,
that she was already
married to her faith.
Showing me her gold ring.
She whispered see
I am a Bride of Christ.
She died a few years later
her letters stopped coming to me.
It was a bad bout of malaria
that took her.
But I thought that Heaven
needed her more than we did.
Now when I feel
alone or sad.
I open an old shoe box
the only thing that I kept from
the orphanage.
And I re-read her
stacks of letters.
one by one.
Always in the order
that she sent them to me.
And as usual
I feel warm and safe again.*
Nov 20, 2015
Nov 20, 2015 at 6:09 AM UTC