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Best Poems Written by Julie Ann Jones

Below are the all-time best Julie Ann Jones poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Julie Ann Jones Poem

Give Ireland Back To the Irish

The 
familiar 
sound 
of 
gunshots 
rings 
out 
in 
the 
dead 
of 
night,as 
a 
sniper 
takes 
position 
in 
the 
bushes 
outta 
sight,
Past 
my 
front 
door 
I 
hear 
the 
sound 
of 
many 
marching 
feet,as 
II 
Para 
make 
their 
presence 
felt 
upon 
a 
Belfast 
street,  
Gerry 
Adams 
does 
a 
hard 
days 
graft 
and 
then 
its 
homeward 
bound,as 
a 
British 
soldier 
just 
nineteen 
lays 
bleeding 
on 
the 
ground,
Well 
he 
fought 
for 
Queen 
and 
country 
so 
it 
comes 
as 
no 
surprise,as 
he 
draws 
his 
last 
breath,says 
a 
prayer 
and 
there 
a 
hero 
dies,
So 
many 
slain 
civilians 
they're 
just 
casualties 
of 
war,do 
the 
f*ckers 
even 
realise 
what 
it 
is 
they're 
fighting 
for?
Or 
has 
the 
whole 
point 
of 
it 
got 
lost 
in 
the 
mists 
of 
time,the 
I'R'A 
take 
credit 
for 
their 
latest 
deadly 
crime,
In 
a 
safehouse 
miles 
from 
nowhere 
there's 
three 
loyalists 
lying 
dead,one 
in 
a 
grave 
(he 
was 
buried 
alive)and 
two 
with 
one 
straight 
through 
the 
head,
But 
the 
score 
it 
was 
even 
before 
the 
cock 
crowed,three 
Catholic 
civilians 
were 
slain,  
And 
there's 
rumours 
of 
vengence 
and 
fights 
to 
the 
death,and 
calls 
to 
keep 
calm 
from 
Sinn 
Fein,
As 
politicians 
armed 
with 
pens 
sit 
counting 
up 
lost 
lives,the 
Ulster 
Paramilitary 
sit 
sharpening 
their 
knives,
And 
loading 
slugs 
into 
the 
clip 
of 
some 
dead 
soldiers 
gun,"Come 
on 
now 
lads 
there's 
dirty 
deeds 
still 
waiting 
to 
be 
done,
In 
Londonderry,County 
Down,in 
Belfast,Newry 
too,the 
Catholics 
and 
the 
protestants 
keep 
Ireland 
torn 
in 
two,
As 
children 
grow 
up 
in 
the 
shadow 
of 
fear,there's 
a 
stench 
of 
death 
and 
bloodshed 
here,
So 
you 
with 
the 
power 
to 
give 
us 
the 
chance,lets 
find 
a 
solution 
and 
finish 
the 
dance,
Give 
Ireland 
back 
to 
the 
Irish...please!
or 
bring 
the 
whole 
damned 
nation 
crashing 
down 
to 
its 
knees.

Details | Julie Ann Jones Poem

Dancing With the Devil

I 
danced 
with the 
Devil at 
the age 
of 
seventeen,and 
he 
danced 
me 
down to 
Hell and 
back 
and 
places in 
between,  
Now 
the 
Devil 
was no 
friend of 
mine 
and 
often 
did me 
wrong,introduced 
me to 
the 
meddle 
and the 
Crack 
rock on 
the 
bong,               
Introduced 
me to a 
twilight 
world 
where 
drugs 
were 
my 
affliction,I 
took a 
chance,began 
the 
dance,straight 
into 
drug 
addiction,             
I 
danced 
with the 
Devil 
and we 
danced 
into the 
night,where 
everything 
that 
mattered 
now was 
coloured 
brown 
or 
white,                   
Now 
the 
Devil he 
was 
devious 
my road 
to self 
destruct,began 
the day 
we 
danced 
away to 
realise I 
was 
hooked,         
So if 
Satan 
asks you 
for a 
dance 
please 
heed 
the tale 
I tell,or  
you'll 
be 
dancing 
with the 
Devil 
and 
he'll 
dance 
you 
straight 
to Hell.

Details | Julie Ann Jones Poem

I'Ve Got Myself a Stalker

I've got myself a stalker and Julian's his name 
I've got myself a stalker and stalking is his game 
He stalks me in the morning and he stalks me when it's dark 
He's often lurking by the lake or bushes in the park 
They say it's paranoia but that's psycho babble talking 
So how come the same guys always there behind me when I'm walking 
I've got myself a stalker who's as mental as can be 
He says he'll dedicate his sorry life to stalking me 
He sends me crazy letters and he calls me on the phone 
He listens at my letterbox to see if I'm alone 
It didn't bother me at first just took it on the chin 
But now if I am truthful feel to do the f*cker in
Can't face going out the door at times I'm left upon the shelf 
Have i told the police about him? Nah! I'll deal with this myself 
I've got myself a stalker so I bought myself a knife 
It's reached the point that for this crazy b*stard I'll do life 
Ain't no one I can talk to and there's no one understands 
I think it's time that I took matters into my own hands 
Show him the error of his ways this God damn awful farce 
It's coming back to bite this motherf*cker in the ass 
Well I used to have a stalker who was f*cked up in the head 
But he won't be stalking me no more cuz now the f*ckers dead.

Details | Julie Ann Jones Poem

Me Ma Was a Crack Head

Me 
ma 
was 
a 
crack 
head 
when 
I 
was 
a 
pup, 
Everything 
she 
tried 
doing 
completely 
f*cked 
up,
She'd 
buy 
a 
new 
mobile 
next 
day 
take 
it 
back,
Like 
nothing 
else 
mattered 
'long's 
she 
got 
her 
crack,
Me 
ma 
was 
a 
crack 
head 
and 
each 
day 
she 
tried,
To 
quit 
but 
it 
fell 
like 
the 
crack 
tears 
she 
cried,
When 
she 
had 
the 
urge 
there 
was 
really 
no 
doubt,
We 
all 
dreaded 
the 
minute 
her 
bits 
had 
run 
out,
Me 
ma 
was 
a 
crack 
head,when 
Christmas 
time 
came,
She 
did 
what 
she 
had 
to,went 
out 
on 
the 
game,
To 
ensure 
Christmas 
morning 
our 
dreams 
were 
complete,
And 
always 
we 
got 
the 
best 
toys 
in 
the 
street,
The 
best 
clothes 
and 
trainers,came 
from 
Santas 
sack,
Even 
if 
it 
meant 
she'd 
ended 
up 
with 
no 
crack,
Me 
ma 
was 
a 
crack 
head 
and 
crack 
was 
her 
game,
And 
yes 
us 
kids 
often 
hung 
our 
heads 
in 
shame,
But 
those 
days 
we 
were 
too 
young 
to 
understand 
why,
Didn't 
realise 
that 
crack 
would 
someday 
make 
her 
die,
Wish 
that 
we'd 
known 
back 
then 
what 
we've 
come 
to 
know 
now,
And 
that 
we 
could 
have 
helped 
her 
just 
didn't 
know 
how,
Me 
ma 
was 
a 
crack 
head 
and 
smoked 
crack 
all 
day,
Never 
bothered 
with 
drugs 
lest 
they're 
stamped 
with 
class 
A,  
Once 
she 
starts 
on 
the 
crack 
pipe 
she 
seldom 
looked 
back,
Me 
ma 
was 
a 
crack 
head 
and 
loved 
smoking 
crack,
But 
with 
all 
of 
those 
years 
of 
wrecking 
her 
head,
She's 
no 
longer 
a 
crack 
head 
cause 
now 
me 
ma's 
dead.

Details | Julie Ann Jones Poem

I'M the Lyrical One

I'm the lyrical one and I have been for years 
Ever outspoken the voice of my peers
Spit phrases that thrill when those lyrics I drop
I'm a lyrical legend and top of the shop 
Well my words kinda flow from the pen to the page
In a lyrical battle as war I do wage
The intrigue they provoke is my only reward
For my pen is much mightier than any man's sword
I can use words as weapons slay all in my path
Or my words can can bring comfort the sweet aftermath 
I'm the lyrical one it's a game that I play 
And the lyrical master of all i survey
No need to be modest tis with no regrets
I process to be lyrically (as) good as it gets
And if you can freestyle and think on your feet
In a lyrical battle invite you to meet 
As head-on you will face me but best you be sure 
That if you lose the battle you can still win the war
For I must now inform and hope not to offend
I'm the lyrical one and will be 'til the end.

Details | Julie Ann Jones Poem

Who Am I

I 
am 
your 
worst 
nightmare 
and 
I 
haunt 
you 
as 
you 
sleep,
Virtual 
strangers 
you 
and 
I 
that 
share 
a 
bond 
so 
deep,
You've 
never 
got 
to 
know 
me 
though 
I've 
been 
there 
all 
your 
life,
And 
the 
pain 
that 
i 
inflict 
on 
you 
it 
cuts 
you 
like 
a 
knife,
I'm 
the 
one 
you 
bared 
your 
soul 
to 
yet 
the 
one 
from 
whom 
you 
hide,
I'm 
the 
one 
who 
die 
destroy 
your 
esteem,confidence 
and 
pride,
I'm 
your 
only 
source 
of 
comfort 
when 
things 
don't 
go 
your 
way, 
And 
the 
one 
you 
can 
depend 
upon 
to 
f*ck 
right 
up 
your 
day,
I 
am 
your 
life 
long 
enemy 
and 
yet 
your 
one 
true 
friend,
And 
when 
you're 
in 
need 
I'll 
be 
the 
one 
on 
whom 
you 
can 
depend,
You've 
tried 
to 
run 
away 
now 
for 
as 
long 
as 
I 
recall,
But 
even 
so,I'm 
sure 
you 
know 
I'll 
catch 
you 
when 
you 
fall,
Do 
you 
know 
the 
one 
of 
whom 
I 
speak?
if 
not 
then 
tell 
me 
why?
That 
you 
do 
not 
hold 
the 
answer 
to 
the 
question 
Who 
am 
I?

If 
you 
still 
are 
unfamiliar 
take 
a 
look 
and 
you 
will 
see,
That 
the 
one 
there 
in 
the 
mirror 
looking 
back 
at 
you....its 
me.

Details | Julie Ann Jones Poem

Way Too Much Power

Way 
too 
much 
power 
stacked 
up on 
the 
shelf,almost 
as much 
power 
as the 
Lord 
God 
himself,    
No 
room 
for 
human 
error,no 
room 
for 
mistake,with 
a long 
list of 
families 
and 
hearts 
they did 
break,                      
Who's 
was the 
decision?
who 
deemed 
it 
correct?
it's a 
fine line 
between 
nurture 
and 
neglect,         
Misinterpretation 
is just 
no 
excuse,is 
it child 
protection?
or 
maybe 
child 
abuse.As 
you 
gather 
the 
details 
each in 
its own 
place,have 
you got 
all the 
facts 
right to 
build up 
your 
case?                    
Was it 
normal 
chastising 
or harsh 
push 
and 
shove?
as you 
remove 
these 
kids 
from 
the 
families 
they 
love,                   
And the 
homes 
that are 
broken 
get 
tossed 
on the 
pile,as 
the kid 
with no 
mummy 
forgets 
how to 
smile,                 
And the 
powers 
that be 
sit 
deciding 
our 
fate,and 
there's 
no 
words 
of 
wisdom 
that can 
compensate,                         
So 
where 
lies the 
answer 
to 
whom 
love 
deprives,given 
way too 
much 
power 
to play 
God 
with 
kids 
lives.

Details | Julie Ann Jones Poem

Back In the Game

Been A.w.o.l for months now 'n' ain't it a shame,
But thelyricalmiracle's back in the game,
I bet you all thought that this girl lost her bottle,
But I'm back in the drivers seat back on full throttle,
There's nothing can keep me from paper 'n' pen,
As you'll soon see now I'm back here writing again'
So I just thought I'd drop in 'n' say,"hi" to you,
I spit phrasesthat thrill see that's just what I do,
And before this days done you will all know my name,'
Now thelyricalmiracle's back in the game.