At my bank I went off with a bang
for ATM fees it on me sprang.
If not I get fobbed
and feel I’ve been robbed
by the outlaw hole-in-the-wall gang!
Emotional bandits
Waiting, looking, hunting for
A drip of emotion
To abuse, to make fun of
To disrespect
Like leaches they are
Ready to suck until there is no more
Emotional bandits
Preying on emotions
They themselves showing none
Inhumane as they are
I refuse to be like them
So, I’ll hide my emotions from them
While I nurture the human in me.
Wendy Nipas
Always together, they played
Never alone, lost or afraid,
They trudged through the woods
And all the surrounding neighborhoods,
Piercing the darkness with shiny flames,
Their eyes never revealing their names.
Always together, they delighted
In the games – wonderfully excited,
They plodded on through the night
Beneath stars and moon so bright
Carefully seeking the best garbage cans,
With paws that were suitable for hands
Always together, they embarked
On trails and tracks – some unmarked
Reaching for the best trash to consume
Knowing that later they’d need to groom
Together, they robbed every community
Raiding the trash at each opportunity!
These bandits from the woods where flowers
Adorn their woodsy lands thru rain showers
Children Sing to Rhyme Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Eve Roper
March 25, 2023
Play hard,
the toothless bandits are at it again.
they have no teeth,
yet bite the hardest.
serial larcenists,
squelching through town,
robbing the honey,
subverting the hives.
at gunpoint,
they silence us.
we play hard,
they play even harder.
in the tripod of power,
they're revered highly.
'distinguished' and 'honourable,'
titles that enable them.
they excavate,
the remains of our land,
stripping us of all,
leaving us bereft of hope.
this toothless bandits,
in this rocky shores,
have hearts dead to pity.
Feels like only bandits wear masks
Tellers shouldn't wear em for doing their tasks
In the old wild west
Sheriffs were the best
We knew the rules we never had to ask
Three Masked Bandits
written: by Miracle Man
11-20-2019
I entered into sleep,
with three young “coons” prowling.
I awoke this morning,
with a face that was scowling.
On the patio,
a sealed bucket of pecans I’d left out.
This morning I found,
half eaten pecans strewn about.
“Coons” do what they do,
sometimes inducing my frown.
When chased from their habitat,
they just moved to town.
Sometimes I take pictures
of these shenanigans before dozing.
They seem happy to oblige,
as three masked bandits posing.
against the moonlight
the cool masked invaders
steal the cat’s food
What were you thinking of mother
When you gave me that extra sardine
You know they are my favourites
Now…I am not feeling too fine
Why you looking like that mother
What you fancying to do
Please don’t pick me up
Or for sure will do a p@@.... Whewww
Penned 26 October 2017
Contest: write me something funny
The furry band of thieves crawl in the night,
wielding Zorro masks and sly grins,
soundless in single file,
under fences and through prickly bushes,
the little ones straggling in back,
they come upon their spoils,
ripe and red for the taking,
juices flow down their chins,
a light has flooded the crime,
their last bites taken,
fleeing satisfied
Little bandits raid my trash,
hiding behind their little masks.
The rascals have themselves a bash,
leaving me to clean up the aftermath.
I turn on the lights and off they dash,
scurrying into the night in a flash,
but all will return back very soon.
They know I have a special fondness for the raccoon.
Two inept crooks robbed my house while I was on vacation.
They left my water running and they died by strangulation.
Besides robbing me, those idiots also made me have to pay a two hundred dollar water bill.
They were already beaten by my neighbors eight year old son, as crooks, they had no skill.
I decided to go to the Police Station and post their bail.
Before I was through, they wanted to go back to jail.
I shot them in their crotches and burned their heads with my blowtorch.
Those dumbasses were screaming in agony because their heads were scorched.
Before strangling them, I used my shotgun to blow off their kneecaps.
Everybody had better start to learn that I will not take people's crap!
(This poem is based on the 1990 'Home Alone' movie.)
Every night at 2 a.m., I do this;
I fill an empty butter bucket(3lb) with food
dry, crunchy, smelly, high calorie, fatty cat food.
It leads to adventures I just dont want to miss.
I turn on the bright light above my back door,
I sneak out into the night, with my curiousity and smile.
I love this small bit of mischief, just wait til I get it on file!
Every night this ritual leaves me wanting more.
I throw down a splattering of food, clink, crash, plop.
All of my strays come running, dashing round all corners of the house.
Wanting fed, they move so brashly, so clumsy, quickly as if for a mouse.
Little funny noises from their mouths, crunch, smack, chomp.
I spend a little time, petting while they let me...
And I am also just waiting, just biding my time.
As I wait for my bandits to act out their little crime.
Ten minutes may pass, and Ive given the signal, Im ready.
I go back inside as noisy as I like, and I wait.
Through my peephole I peek, soon enough out of the undergrowth,
comes a wee little possum,raccoon, or skunk, one or three or both.
I laugh to myself; my little bandits now have their cherished bait.
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