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Son Prison Poems | Prison Poems About Son

These Son Prison poems are examples of Prison poems about Son. These are the best examples of Son Prison poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | I do not know? |

His Song and Mine

Sympathy

BY PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR

I know what the caged bird feels, alas!
    When the sun is bright on the upland slopes;   
When the wind stirs soft through the springing grass,   
And the river flows like a stream of glass;
    When the first bird sings and the first bud opes,   
And the faint perfume from its chalice steals—
I know what the caged bird feels!

I know why the caged bird beats his wing
    Till its blood is red on the cruel bars;   
For he must fly back to his perch and cling   
When he fain would be on the bough a-swing;
    And a pain still throbs in the old, old scars   
And they pulse again with a keener sting—
I know why he beats his wing!

I know why the caged bird sings, ah me,
    When his wing is bruised and his bosom sore,—
When he beats his bars and he would be free;
It is not a carol of joy or glee,
    But a prayer that he sends from his heart’s deep core,   
But a plea, that upward to Heaven he flings—
I know why the caged bird sings!


Why Do I Write?

You ask me why I sing?
You ask me why I write?
You ask me why I bleed?
What choice have I besides?

I long to fly, to run away
To some safe haven just to play
To see the light of blessed day
And give my longing heart full sway

I want to grasp the star and moon
And live my life; t'will end too soon
And kiss the clouds up in the sky
But here am I, what choice have I?

Why do I sing?
Why do I cry?
Why write of pain
No lullaby?
What choice have I?

I want with zeal to be adored
And I want Fame there at my door
I want IT ALL and so much more
Tell me, is anything for sure?

Why so I beat my wing?
I was born to soar…

Eileen Manassian Ghali


Details | Light Poetry |

That One Chance

                                                       That One Chance
                                          
                                             If I had that one chance I would,
                                             Eliminate that reality that hate could,
                                             Destory the purpose of loves will,
                                             For hate is a reality that loves to kill.

                                             Having this one chance I would  know,
                                             That my life has that chance to show 
                                             No other purpose is their from hate,
                                             Because hate is not my only fate.

                                             If I had that one chance to love,
                                             I woulld humble its desire thereof,
                                             For I know that its desire is from,
                                             The essence of a true reality to come.

                                             So if one fines that one chance,
                                             To adore its love snd take a stance..


Details | Rhyme |

The Craigslist Thrill Killers

Elytte and Miranda Barbour murdered a man just to get a thrill.
It is always very stupid and senseless when people kill.
They said they killed him because they wanted to kill someone together.
If you're wondering when they'll get out of prison, the answer is never.
They pled guilty to Second Degree Murder and other charges and got life.
Elytte will never be able to kill another person and neither will his wife.
When Troy LaFerrara answered the Barbours Craigslist ad, he didn't know he was in danger.
While in court, LaFerrara's loved ones were very furious and they expressed their anger.
The Barbours are only 22 and 19, they're young enough to be my kids.
If they were my children, I wouldn't forgive them for what they did.

(This is a true story about Elytte and Miranda Barbour who murdered Troy LaFerrara.)


Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) |

The Camarilla

The Camarilla  *part 1

She forgets every meaning of untroubled silence and fantasy
Joyful and full of spirit, indulgent ways to live a life in existence
Her unity, filled with haven never again the craven
Allowing to never again be discredited, nor run from her responsibilities
Walking in a bust that rejected hopeful-less feelings
The love, joy healed every carefree solitary need
Soft reactions, with a gift that holds inner peace
A joy of the stop, universal, opening the silence

Her enemy now wears the white wolf coat~ 
With no interest of ongoing thoughts, ending these uncomfortable ways
Engraved words removed, releasing pristine motions that swim in mystery
Gazing at the world with one complete look, of everything
Regretting old thoughts of waste
Losing and forgetting every notion that now can be dealt and felt'  
Rising to the ability of her sexuality, that rises above and below all levels
Now she whispers, words that untwist her fate, with great debate
Destroying and diverting demonic demons dat are dreaming

A sin to go on when one ignores the light
A lovely look against every break was all it took
Intervening every change that took place
She is and always will be saved,
Enjoying all the pleasure and painless desires for compassion  
Eliminating every form of inner prison, turning it into medicated freedom
Dedicating every matter behind,
Oh! How to spread that life's a dream one should be shared

Sane like the flowers that grow throughout the year
Finally, finding the perfect ruler of peaceful grace
Calmly giving life and advice, praying, praising, and preparing
Forgetting her NEFARIOUS, purpose!

Dedicate~ to: The MALKAVIAN- Part 1* Poem written by; Nate D.


Details | Haiku |

Butterfly In A Bottle

Slowly opens the eyes
Amazed, flutters to the skies
Contained. Settles and sighs.


Details | Rhyme |

A Can of Peaches

She was a kleptomaniac,
His wife of thirty years.
The risks she took for stuff of little value
Had all but driven him to tears.

She had such low regard for the risk;
Always said, “If I’m caught, I’ll pay.”
“But what if they’re not satisfied?” he’d ask.
She just smiled and said, “That’ll be the day.”

When first they met, he thought her just young and wild;
And, after all, it really did no one any harm.
It was fun to watch her be so sneaky,
Kind of a sexy part of her appealing charm.

The stuff she stole was so petty,
But she seemed to have such fun.
After all, it wasn’t for the stuff she stole,
But for the thrill of what she’d done.

As time had passed, he had finally realized
It was a sickness, not just a game to play.
She’d steal something almost everywhere she went,
And she went somewhere almost every day.

So, it had gotten old and tiresome, completely out of hand.
His pleas of “Get some help.” she would ignore;
Tho’ she might have thought better of it
If she had known what was in store.

While grocery shopping, she tried to steal a can of peaches.
They caught her, called the cops, sent her off to jail.
She called her embarrassed and disgusted husband, 
Who resentfully made arrangements for her bail.

When her court date came, he went along;
And when her case came up, he was by her side.
As the judge reviewed her charges, it seemed to him
That the judge’s patience was being sorely tried.

“Madam" the judge said angrily, "…a single can of peaches?
It’s obvious you have no desperate financial need.
You are wasting my court’s time with such farce.
So, Madam...how do you plead?"

She feigned regret. She bowed her head.
Surely such a ploy might change his attitude.
“Guilty, your Honor.  I am so sorry.”
He growled, “Save your platitudes.”

Then he asked, “How many peaches were in the can?”
“Your Honor, I believe that there were ten."
“Madam, I intend to teach you a lesson this day.
You’ll think twice before you steal again.

You’ll serve three days in county jail for each peach in that can.”
Her husband saw his chance.  He said, “Your Honor, if you please,
Before you pass her final sentence, you should know….
She also stole a can of peas!"


Details | Elegy |

MONOLITH

monolith wrapped
with blackish aura
now old lion has
lost it's strength 
wiggles under the
iron gossamer
sometimes yelps
yawns and sighs 
waiting in labyrinth
for macabre end




For P.D'S contest


Details | Dramatic monologue |

The Victory Lap

Dusk lingers over the broken hill
Night creeps slowly beneath gloomy skies
Tired souls scramble to their weary beds
While I kneel down on the old dusty carpet and pray.
My spirit groans but I could not utter a single word 
Overshadowed by an unusual burden
I forced out a few words and hum a spiritual tune.
The night spread quickly over my bed
And I drifted in a deep slumber instead.
I found myself waiting in a room,
I was waiting for someone but I didn’t know who
A bare shelf attached to a plain wall
With a phone box sitting on top caught my attention.
Someone suddenly came out of nowhere into the unlit room
With a delegation and greeted me heartily.
He shook my hand and gave me the box.
We sat around a table positioned in the center of the room
His chair powerfully arranged to right side 
He sat close to the door and I sat next to him 
enchanted by his charismatic power 
I waited for that ecstatic hour. 
His delegation sat around the table at
the darker end of the room clapping 
and cheering as he started to speak.
With a big grin and a wide smile
He spoke with confidence, boldness and authority
Suddenly the door cracked opened and a radiant glow of light 
straight from the sky radiates upon him 
The beaming light rest upon him and covers him as he spoke.
God bless the President 
These words  woke me up 
in the wee hours of the morning.








Details | Rhyme |

I Just Got Out Of The COUNTY JAIL

After a wonderful late afternoon walk in the park, 
my wife and I moseyed over to the Japanese Hibachi Grille for some dinner. 
What we got into was some good old fashioned drama down at BeniHana...

You see, I got me a fetish for shiny cookware, 
so as the patrons' eyes honed in on the iron chef 
dicing up onions, shrimp, and chicken...
mine were busy fantasizing about concealing Ginsu knives
clankin' in the kitchen. 
"Brew Silly began his routine with the hot fire volcano bit
atop the flat grille.
In the distraction, my sticky fingers began reactin',
 slippin' utensils inside my zipper, for a thrill. 
Things started heatin' up as folks were eating up;
Spatulas started flyin'! 
Mushrooms were a fryin', 
My conscience stopped trying... 
tired of getting beaten up!

Now, if I told you I was lookin' at what was cookin'...
I'd be a lyin'. 
I mean, I was really tryin',
but the devil had me by the klepto-hands...guiding me.
Riling me up.
 
He said, "Go for one of them Wok's! Do it now Big Dog! 
Get yir rocks off! Knock yir socks off! 
Quick man...sly like a fox, Hoss!"

My heart said, "No", but my head said, "OH HELL YES!"
Sadly, I was in cahoots with the devil, 
bass mixed with treble, 
trouble poundin' in my chest! 
So guess what came next?-

I grabbed one of them big brass bitches, 
signaled Jessie's ass with a quickness, 
and started gunnin for the door!
Of course, my good hearted wife started whinin', 
"Honey, I wasn't done, now what are we leavin' for?"

"Listen baby, I'll explain later.
Right now it's time to go!"

As we passed the pretty little hostess,
she banged the gong and said real fast, 

"AHH, Tank-You Berry Much F'wor Cummean Fwolks!"

We jetted towards the park, but it was getting dark.
My legs began to fail. The cops were on our tail.
We tried to walk and play it off, but it was no use.
We should have stayed and ate our food, 
and drank our brews with "BREWS!"

The pigs threw me to the ground, 
then began to squeal and bark.
They tossed us in the County Jail, 
twenty thousand bail...
 ____________FOR TAKIN' A WOK TO THE PARK!!!


~"True story ={WinK+Wink}



Details | Free verse |

Paris my prison

another world for me
a soul that I be
a freedom for life
free by love for liberty
for living — Paris my reason
Paris my unfulfilled desire
Paris my prison


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