"perp" poems
.
Legos
Rubik ' s Cube
Stress ***** Top
Squirt gun Yo-yo
Slinky GI Joe Hot
Wheels Action F
igures Col lectibl
e Puzzles Etch A
SketchStuffed An
imals Marbles Do
llsCards Kite Perp
plexus Le a p Pad
Magic School Bus
Micro s co p e Kit
Vibrating Rubber Duck
ie Handcuffs Oral *** Strip
Glowing Stretchy Vibrating *****
Doll theLibera tor Soloflesh
Oct 23, 2014
Oct 23, 2014 at 2:55 PM UTC
He was taken into custody on Friday
After he got off a bus in Marseille
That had come from Amsterdam
By way of Brussels,
According to police.
The manhunt began
After he opened fire
At the Jewish Museum
In the center of Brussels,
Killing at least 3 people,
Obviously: an anti-Semitic attack.
He was taken into custody
“As soon as he set foot in France,”
According to François Hollande,
Congratulating himself
For an efficient round up of
The usual suspects, all Jihadi
Round trippers from Syria.
He was taken into custody in a mere 6 days--
A magnifique display of French efficiency,
A sublime achievement by
Our furry friends in
Police-Protective Services.
The swarthy perp was carrying a Kalashnikov--
That’s AK-47 for you NRA gun nuts--
A handgun, ammunition, a baseball cap,
A small video recording device, and a
Copy of The Koran,
All items matching
Descriptions of the gunman,
And, even if not, a known-terrorist
Named Mahdi bin Laden,
Carrying an assault rifle
Would have been enough
To fit the profile,
Justify the profiling,
Sufficient to stop anyone
Passing through Customs,
Except, of course
The French Corps Diplomatique,
Wreaking most of the havoc in the EU these days.
There was once a time when any Thom, Dieter or Heine
Could get outta town on a ratline,
Blessed by the Pope,
Assisted by the OSS.
A white linen suit and a Panama hat:
Was all it took any Schutzstaffel
To pull off another Argentine makeover,
Melt into the landscape,
Speaking Spanish with a thick German brogue.
It’s nice to know
Jew persecution is criminal,
Socially frowned on these days.
Jun 1, 2014
Jun 1, 2014 at 5:59 PM UTC
Sunny day in June, the tenth to be exact
The horrible day my sister was attacked
Beth was in the house, her friend Mark outside
She was cleaning,he in the yard kept with pride
Beth Anne was on hands and knees scrubbing the floor
When she heard real gunshots, at least she swore
Snuck to the window and peered out with care
On the rocky driveway, saw Mark sprawled out there
Been shot three times in his back,lay in his blood
Beth saw her ex...with a .38 he stood
While terrified, behind the aquarium she ducked
Brad blundered in dressed in hunters camouflage- ****
Her heart hammering in her ears, bursts of short breaths
Saw him through the murky water, planning two deaths
Beth Anne cowered down praying to her dear Lord
He found her, pulled her up by the hair, fired once more
The bullet blew off her ear and traveled on down
Collapsed her lungs, in her blood she would drown
Brad disappeared and the firing just stopped
For Mexico he fled, red ranger with white top
Beth dragged herself the complete length of the rug
Called 911, shed been shot...head ringing from slug
She was determined to live, wouldn't give up the fight
But then she passed out endangering her plight
Came the Greeley police, fire trucks, EMT's
Assessed the situation, perp further he flees
They all worked on Mark, too late he was dead
One smart responder....woman shot in the head
They spreading out rushed the house, found my sis
Beth was unresponsive, victim almost missed
Speeding to Weld County General, sirens blaring
Got her in the ER cut off what she was wearing
O.R. She went with damage extensive
Not much hope, docs and staff apprehensive
For many hours they sawed, pinned, stitched and closed
The ICU threat of infection posed
Her body and face were unrecognizable
Family stood believing the impossible
Appeared an Adonis with blonde hair and blue eyes
Talk of afterlife evidently not lies
Her guardian angel told Beth he was there
Would appear much later, in death they would share
Sep 14, 2013
Sep 14, 2013 at 6:47 PM UTC
this is a depth bomb cutting,
a midnight message for me,
a Zola accusatory,
“You make me think about death and doorways and sleep”
no mere paper cut incision,
bandaid and triple bacterial,
a forehead kiss
and an-on-your-way
nope serious business
*death and doorways and sleep
and all that is in between,
nightly rehanging the me-moon,
on that curved tip
the onerous tasks of child raising,
you, the perp, the perpetual kid,
the holy version victim trinitized
too?
hanging your self right on that shining orbital,
leads to unquestionable answer processions
ahead of the unanswerable, they ask,
what’s behind the screen door of
death and doorways and sleep*
life is hard,
but without questions,
it is unquestionably
harder
find the doorways.
this explains so little
and so more much.
reminder: make doorways - open them
11:10pm 4-10-19 ~ 10:31am 4-16-19
~for AH~
Apr 16, 2019
Apr 16, 2019 at 10:45 AM UTC
You're clowns, as laughable as hell
Go read the passage on Cyber troll perps
unemployed ******* paid to sit online
writing ******* to flood and demoralize
the ninocoops brain deed perverts
think others are weak inconsequentials dweeps
like the spineless nervous victims you usually terrorize
Go re-appraise your anodyne tactics
30 years, I am still standing still laughing
Am at my best when alone ready for turds
I don't hide, I haven't fled anywhere
Or go all shaky and trembly
You don't frighten or terrorize me one bit
My mind is razor sharp, my nerves steely as ever
Coward wiggas are contemptibles
Can't stand and trade face to face
Only brave when they gang up against one man
behind screens inventing false identities
You are laughable, odious little perp rats.
Deluded slaves controlled fools.....
Hahaha....hahaha....Hahaha....western rubish
trailer trashes, you can't even spell your lingo
PERP CYBER TROLL, VIGILANTES OF THIEVES
LAUGHABLE MORONS, SIMPLETONS YOBBOS
SHAMELESS FOOLS, LOOK HOW LONG YOU'VE
BEEN AT IT, CAN'T BRING DOWN JUST ONE MAN
WHITE THIEVES SERVANTS....Hahaha...hahaha
Jan 1, 2019
Jan 1, 2019 at 3:34 PM UTC
happened upon an extravaganza of spring’s hallmark,
the cherry blossoms outing their munificence of color,
I happened to position myself direct below a tree,
the thicket
of blossoms so, well, thick, that sky was obliterated ‘cept
for pointillistic spots of blue sun, yellow sky that poked
through the
few de minimus interstitial spaces permitted, and was
struck silent, by-for-before shimmering eyes that uttered the
requisite oohs and ahhs,
and
words came to me weeks later,
when the memory, now fully decanted,
reappears
courtesy of a giant tech company’s code tinkering,
merging and splurging the combined images in the
photographic memory
of my devices,
as if to say:
your life is
points of light and color and scent
as you write now
amidst the hubbub of jackhammers, raucous horns a blaring,
the homeless screaming on the street at god,
the fatalistic headlines of hate and
the pallor of a low level haze of perp~gray
between you and your true elfin self,
and you are not surprised,
but sadly, but not entirely,
bemused
that the photo’s true utility was to
remind weeks later
that all that my eyes utter
is not just
woe, double trouble and toil, toil,
*but to Hey Jude and George,
step out and see the park on a Sunday
in its entirety and to glory in
your being
by being
a point in that tapestry spectacular
of ingestion, digestion and final comprehension and
a happy*
exhalation
May 10, 2024
May 10, 2024 at 8:06 AM UTC
By: Cedric McClester
Proudly he wore the uniform
As many others do
Went to work everyday
Because he always knew
What he wanted to be
Once he finally grew
Just like his father
And some uncle’s too
He lived by their credo
To protect and serve
Until he met a fate
That no one deserves
Shot twice in the head
Some people have nerve
Now an officer is dead
And his perp’s in the preserve
Facing a life sentence
Not the electric chair
He has no repentance
You see, he doesn’t care
They call him Hell-Raiser
I guess that’s only fair
He doesn’t have mercy
At least that I’m aware
We need to thank ‘em
For the jobs they do
Risking life and limb
For people like me and you
But to their oaths
They swore to be true
The many men and women
Who proudly wear the blue
© Copyright 2015, Cedric McClester. All rights reserved.
May 4, 2015
May 4, 2015 at 3:47 PM UTC
I've always wondered why cops
don't train as philosophers; this
would certainly disarm a perp:
"What is the meaning of life!"
"I give up!" perp starts crying in
existential anguish; cop gives the
guy a cup of coffee & cigarette.
instead of tickets they'd be standing
around writing poetry about traffic;
engaging passerby w/ conundrums;
maintaining the status quo of the
republic; in contrast to the Dionysian
criminals [if **** were the only crime]
theft, ****** & betrayal a way of life;
sanctioned by the class struggle -
Aug 12, 2018
Aug 12, 2018 at 9:24 PM UTC
Your skin becoming pastel finger prints
Gently riveting the drift
Letting blood like the month of July
Favorite blessings, dragging the stone closing the tomb
Assumed the tracer swiped my eye before the void space let it compost
Kirill committed arson, viddied a sin never seductive as this particular perp made it
Feeling all the goodness coming out through lipid ducts
And taking to the ground at my feet
Attached partners washing with mercury sulfide nitrocellulose, cosmetic choices
And rather letting in slow death chemicals
Ever like the beastly aroma of your saliva and salty tears
--------------------
Cut to the scene of horrors
I'm distant, some reason I felt for you
Some reason I dealt your feelings with you
Is it the glow
Face for face
That I was empathy, for you
That I want close to you
**** the poison out in hopes of loving your and the rest
Large screen projecting the best as it gets
Dark and when you turn
I thought I saw near skin erase and uncover bare bones to taste
All that I must **** out the poison from
This film was sad and glum
This film shown me the gun
Eventually that I was to orchestrate the ending from
Mar 19, 2015
Mar 19, 2015 at 8:18 PM UTC
(A bit of fun for Thomas W. Case - I think he lives in Iowa)
Hawkeye pride burns bright in Iowa City,
the place where Tennessee Williams learned to curse.
Iowa City hosts the 4th of July, Iowa speedway race, unique perhaps
because the cars have to stay behind a tractor for the first 199 laps.
How polite are the people in Iowa City? I saw a news report where a man was mugged,
traumatic? Sure, but the man still remembered to say “Thank you” before the perp bugged.
There are over twenty-six churches here, people can be a bit pious and obnoxiously reflective.
There’s a Hawkeye infestation in Iowa City because of the university, classified as ‘moderately selective.’
Geographically, Iowa’s where the rolling plains meet a limestone rise.(1)
Did I mention that the bars close at 2am? A travesty in any serious drinker’s eyes.
Some noted authors came from Iowa City, the locals are proud of that and own it.
Most were playwrights and novelists, luckily, few of them turned out to be poets.
(1) whatever that is
Mar 8, 2024
Mar 8, 2024 at 9:34 PM UTC
The nurses at the front desk
throw folders
and wisecracks
across the spaces between them,
and offer one
as a moving target
for a game of darts
with pretend syringes.
Watching the relaxed bustle,
I'm reminded of a line
from Stranger In A Strange Land,
where "waiting is",
but at times you have to wait so fast
that you move at blurred speed.
All seasoned with
a light-handed graveyard humor,
promising to make sure
and dull the needles for me
special-like next time.
Just to make it official,
I throw my folder
at the main perp at the front desk
when leaving.
The dartboard du jour
cheers with thumbs up.
I'm one of the gang.
Sep 10, 2014
Sep 10, 2014 at 9:48 PM UTC
there is salvation and life
through our redeemer
yet due to my deeds
you are still hurting.
how can i ask your forgiveness
when i can't find you?
how can i clear my debris
when you're still going through?
it was to me mere chance
that God patched my wounds
and with faith i believe
he can tend to yours too.
i pray his omnipotence
through angels dispatched
to your weary side deliver
my apologies in tact
find peace in that fact
that my mind was lost
and that day my deeds were
chasing a greed at any cost
make me a perp or villain
i will be what you need
my heart cries for you to heal
with your heart made whole and free.
Nov 24, 2012
Nov 24, 2012 at 3:58 PM UTC
Stalking flies like they
were treasured prizes, was the feline.
Following the perp without being overt,
weaving fleeing, rookie eyes.
©DWE092013
Sep 24, 2013
Sep 24, 2013 at 10:04 PM UTC
2:02 am displayed on the phone
ceased rain storm
three consecutive days
dripping in the downspout
like a metronome tick
in sync with drops
on the window pain
half of the window foggy
half of her daughters name
crackling of the base board heater causing it to dissipate
initiated by the
temperature decrease
animated shadows
on the Wall
Street light trees
rocking back and forth
R.E.M. sedatives engaged thunderous bangs previous nights held her awake
what a relief
Sudden crash of glass
A perimeter breach
Murderer? Kid Napping? Thief?
Let's see
Wet sneaks squeak as the creeper sneaks
A perp with purpose
This Was no thief
Lurks toward stairs
from the living room
Old house stairs creak
Daughters guess it's mom
Who can't sleep
Good night morning mom
She screams
The murderer hastily
Moves down the hall briefly
Stops at the daughters door
To Then Proceed
up the hall
A murderous night
In hand the murderers
knife
A murderers stands right
Over her owning her life
The room flashing bright
Flashes again and again
Phone reads 6:37 am
Sun shinning in
I am never taking sleeping
Pills again
Apr 7, 2017
Apr 7, 2017 at 7:07 AM UTC
The cops, they couldn't see it
but she did, right away
the perp had a small problem
a virtual **** toupee
Overflowing tress', *****
like a Farah Fawcett wig
poking out his zipper
hiding all, that wasn't big
So ware the sexts you send
and don't mistype receiver
sending hairy **** pics
making the ladies gasp
and a hirsute ***** believer
Nov 10, 2017
Nov 10, 2017 at 11:39 AM UTC
By: Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2022.
It’s not that he’s
So easy to assail
But Donald Trump needs to be
Perp- walked to jail
Where his thin orange skin
Can suddenly turn pale
And his lifestyle can suddenly
Begin to fail
Impeachable charges
Lodged against him twice
But his Republican supporters
Wouldn’t roll the dice
This was upon
Mitch McConnel’s advice
Because on the head of his party
It wouldn’t look nice
So twice Trump was able
To dodge a bullet
Cause no one had the courage
To even pull it
And you and i must admit
Nothing about him suggests he will quit
But when the Marshals arrest him
He’ll have to submit
Just imagine
Him doing time
In a six by ten cell
For an assortment of crime
Then life would have a reason
As well as a rhyme
Like it always has
In the annals of time
Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2022. All rights reserved.
May 23, 2022
May 23, 2022 at 5:17 AM UTC
I stand in the mud
To guard from the flood
Of parasitic bugs
That try to steal blood
But I’m not an evil vet
So I try to use mosquito nets
That can’t match the torpedoes set
The passing of time
Develops nasty grime
Through blasting crimes
As the lasting mimes
Understand ***** dimes
Fall to those in line
After a while the painted soil
Becomes black from sainted oil
Acquired through tainted toil
To the wealthy go the spoils
Saying it’s healthy to be royal
While our dying planet boils
A tar pit
Carpet
Car drift
Scar gift
Guard shift
Charred rift
Bars lift
To heaven’s gate
So instead I deflate
To a second rate
Panicked state
As the Devil’s mate
Drowning in quicksand
Certainly won’t fix man
But I’m out of tricks planned
To cross this split span
That’s a crypt can
That clips lambs
Who withstand
The whip slams
In this strict land
Where kicks ram
The sick ******
Who picked scams
This tower of dirt
Built by our hurt
Has crumbling girth
So is it really worth
All the pain we birthed?
Like a plague on Earth
Where we play the perp
There’s no way this works
Nov 13, 2018
Nov 13, 2018 at 4:10 PM UTC
Born to win or lose.
In the middle we live suspended.
In the moment.
Perp walk to perpetuity.
Not then nor now just IS.
What it is.
slowly twisting in wind counter orbital
Spin.The.clock strikes midnight
And we begin.again
Just IS.
Perceptions is reality.
That sketches the borders.
Of.IS
Feb 13, 2014
Feb 13, 2014 at 9:34 AM UTC
Romance is dead
This generation is lost
Corrupted morally
By online dating
Fast women
And Tantra
What ever happened
To romance
And love
They were murdered
The perp
Capitalism.
Feb 23, 2019
Feb 23, 2019 at 1:42 PM UTC
Your sightly sweet smile
stole my seeing sense some
Saturdays since first you
crossed my sights.
You jaywalked the straits of
my peripherals like a perp
who stole a heart and two eyes.
I'd have cuffed you to a pole
if steel could hold diamond,
but your sparkled grin'd subdued
me and I was too lame to reach you.
Aug 24, 2019
Aug 24, 2019 at 5:33 PM UTC