Best Burglary Poems
For me the whole universe is a stage
The past, the present, the future, every people, every age
I ride on the wings of my imaginations and they take me to my next place
I can write on history, mysteries and on every thing my pen can engage
I am a poet, a poet
My pen and I are in perfect harmony
I don't write for fame, neither for money
My words are the explanation of my emotions
Endless like a sky and deep like an ocean
They tell my hatred, fears and devotions
I am a poet, a poet
In people eyes I can see the pain
I have the gift through which emotions can be explained
I sit alone in the silence of night, people think that I am insane
But by sitting alone, nature is what I see and peace is what I obtain
I am a poet, a poet
One moment I am kissing a girl, next I am in another century
One moment I am on Earth, next I am swimming in the lakes of mercury
One moment I am a child, next I am celebrating my wedding anniversary
One moment I am a thief, next I am helping to stop burglary
I am a poet, a poet
Last year I saw a white glistening olive tree
Neither of west nor of East
Which would glow even if washed my sea
It was full of fruit for animals and beast
There I had my dinner with angels and priests
Then I sat on the wings of my imaginations where I met all the deceased
I am a poet, a poet
Being a poet I have experienced a world with compassionate cries
A world where there was no act of kindness, empath dies
Where the wolves lives in sheeps clothing and devil lives in disguise
There was not even a single wise guy, a world full of lies
A dark place where the sun neither sets nor rise
I am a poet, a poet
I have also experienced a world where angels sing you lullabies
A place where nobody ever cries, and only love and love lies
Justice prevails all over it, even lion and deer lives in peace
Here the birds wake you up with their sweet melodies
I am a poet, a poet
23 September 2018
Voices Behind the Radio
I have chosen to be a dispatcher, working hard to save a life
It is our job to obtain the information from the chaos and the strife.
We do our best to get the location, and the nature of the call
Each call is always different. Sometime we cannot obtain it all.
A patient not breathing, a burglary, or a traffic accident could be the call
We ride the emotional roller coaster, remaining calm throughout it all.
We give instructions to the caller, while keeping them on the phone
Re-assuring help is on the way, and that they are not alone.
With the units enroute, caller still on the phone, we add notes to the call.
We never withhold information obtained, we gladly provide it all.
The Officer needs the address again, the Fire Chief more units to staging
The Medic the nature of the call, it is our job to keep updating.
When we hang up the phone we have done our job, our units are all Code-4
The calls can be overwhelming at times, Sometimes we would like to run out the door.
We have to be ready for that next call, Police, Fire, or EMS
We rely on our training as we strive to do our best.
We ride with you in your Police Cars, Fire Trucks, and Ambulances to each call
We are the lifeline that sends you out each time, and wants you safe throughout it all.
We are usually the face of the department, and the first to be left out
Those faceless voices behind the radio, you depend on without a doubt.
Thomas Nedzbala
Arizona
©2014
Japan, land of rising SUN
Faced Natures devastation
Tsunami, earthquake obliterated cities
Lost all but not hope, maturity, sanity
Collective harmony, community first attitude
No honking, no mad overtaking; only understanding on jammed roads
No shoplifting when lights fused in malls
Mature media, compassionate humanity
No bloodcurdling visuals of chest beating or wild grief
No hypocrisy of help by Politicians
Well cultivated patience, doggedness to move on
Relief work, removal of debris, building roads at amazing speed
No mass scale panic on tanking of stocks, yen vulnerability
Cultured dignity, dignified grace
Disciplined queues for water, groceries, no chaotic scenes, squabbles
People buying to meet present need, so everybody could get something.
High moralistic Human values
Restaurants cut prices, no burglary at unguarded ATM
Plain speak on Nuclear threat levels
Japanese have done it before
Hiroshima and Nagasaki bombings could only maim not rein
Tsunami and earthquake could only dissolve few cities not their resolve
Crisis handling, innate to Japanese
God gave volcanoes
They marshalled art of baking on it rather than getting charred
Japan, the land of rising SON
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
By Hitendra Mehta
May 2011
For Members Contest - Trubute to Japan by Debbie Guzzi
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Fractured, and torn
Inside I am warn.
Branded and burned
But it’s not your concern.
Splinters sting inside of my heart
Not sure how to pick them apart.
Seen so many lies draped in smiles
This is my life, these are my trials.
There has been a murder
A murder of trust
Many have lied because of their lust.
There has been a burglary
A burglary of dreams.
Nothing is ever what it seems.
Seeing things I don’t want to see,
Feeling things I don’t want to feel,
This is real
Signed and sealed
I don’t know if this can ever be healed.
I am over the manipulation that you think I don’t notice
It’s time for me to disconnect and simply focus.
The remnant of an old foundation still peeks through
It’s like every time I cut it down somehow it starts anew.
I have barricaded the city
The city inside of me
How can I get better if I won’t let the inhabitants free?
I have had just about enough of the games that come from the second sky
It’s time for a new beginning its time to say goodbye.
This is not my home nor will it ever be
I just long not to feel vacant, barren and empty.
But the war has been vicious and there have been many causality
This world has become one big disease to me.
The good that danced in the wind is starting to wind down
And I find it hard to carry on when no one is around.
I know too much
But know nothing at all
This is a blessing but also my down fall.
It’s like I’m speaking a foreign language when I talk to others
You know the ones who were supposed to be my brothers.
Judgments have been made and the verdict is in
The outcome is spoken with a sinister grin.
How witty
What a pity,
How direct
Their intellect.
How false their accusation
I am about to just change the station
I am about to just run
I know who to run too
Vindication does not come from man
It comes right from you.
One day I will see the fruit of my labor
None of you are my savior
But until then, I will persevere
Cast down every fear
Trample over all my enemies
While at the same time praying
they get brought to their knees.
By: Sabina Nicole
Three years ago in Éire was the last time I was free,
I used to own a boat there, and roam an Emerald sea,
by the herald of a sunset that made all the shadows flee,
shadows older than the sunset, as old as the black oak tree;
"it's not until the body dies, the soul is bid go free",
the shadows cast by lonliness seemed to whisper, quietly,
the theft of time is sought there, a consensual burglary,
and the moonlight on the darkling water, glistened solemnly,
as the waves lapped round my ankles on the shore of the emerald sea;
Now nothing in this shallow world means anything to me,
Back again on dry land now, bound by lock and key,
left rotting in this dungeon - lost - as though by royal decree,
into those gleaming waters cast, were both the lock and key,
- the shadows cast by lonliness rise up and swallow me -
the theft of time is fought for here, a cruel irony,
where time takes forever and forever, or so it seems to me,
deep hidden in the forest of the past, for at least an eternity,
bound in idleness and darkness - even as the old oak tree.
Call it condemnation or appraisal ,
It is far from it ;
I write from the bottom of my heart…
Full of sorrows and pain ,
That the world that I cherish and care for…
Is no longer safe and habitable .
Blood is being shed on daily basis..
Killings….for money ,for pride ,for power and for religion.
Caution and tolerance thrown into the winds ,
As a kid ,we had no burglary on our doors and windows ,
We can sleep outside and inside with doors opened ,
But don’t try it now!...You will regret it .
Our environment..free from pollution and rubbish ;
Diseases are minimal and less rampant ;
Presence of abundant natural food with less preservatives ;
But now !food are being chemicallized …
Do I hear technology or advancement ? oh,no!
I must be hallucinating…. advancement in destruction ,
In diseases-cancer of this …cancer of that…AIDS ;EBOLA ,etc
What a beautiful world..or am I being sarcastic ?
A world of improved crimes that refused to sublime….
Tax evaded…money embezzled ...funds meant for the poor diverted…
Leaders full of deceit…cyber mess ;political quagmire…
egoism the order of the day..
real love dwell in the past; as divorce rate rises to the top
and soon…very soon license will be given to people to wed animals….
I mean lower animals ;
Union between a woman and a dog ;a horse and a man ,
Come to think of it ,are we not all animals?
I have belly pain ,I need to retire to my bed ,
May be when I awake ,I will see a new world .
DOB:25th of march,1968
Nomad in strange lands,
Doing it with your hands,
Not reprimanded dead,
But given an actor’s head.
Time to do, breadth and space,
So you don’t leave your trace,
Because your actions are private,
Since you are not an ape primate.
Caged within freedom and jail,
In there, but your jail is your wail;
The two realities are conjoined,
In an experience you’ve coined.
Knowing that right and good,
Exist potentially within your hood,
And that you’re free in your actions,
Of theft and burglary subtractions.
Although you feel it’s your height,
To take that which is your right,
You understand you are wrong,
That to your good friend you belong.
So you resolve every time,
To stop your criminality mime,
And admit to your friend malice,
And take the righteousness chalice.
The crumbling of humanity is developing.
Burglary, deception, and hubris are ubiquitous.
Money is being earned by cheating.
These areas are known to be perilous.
The vast majority of the cash is made in the wild.
It's time to settle in the matured and infirm.
Ravenous experts age their vigor after a while.
Laborers are escaping devout neediness squirm.
Frantic individuals have weakened.
Fellowship has no kin, just sex bind unify.
Keeping guardians is an idea antiquated.
Notwithstanding savagery, humankind decay.
The mutilation and murder of living persons,
Assaulting, beating captives till they die or be deaf.
They induce their casualties lives blackens.
The cruelest rulers of the hells they bereft.
Psyche attacking compassion and adoring.
Time talks just nibble and severity.
Wild evil presences masked as a sacred being.
Blamelessness in the midst of a corrupt divinity.
Virtue blurs to a deadly chase in the wind.
No one realizes who prowls crimson vine.
Is this acculturated? a pooled grind.
Alert, my friends, inquire into thine.
Written: September 9, 2021
This or That, Vol 7 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
100 Onions
(The absconding of the onions)
(Onion bandit burglary)
In Waterville Maine today the rain stayed a little longer
100 onions grown by grade school students had been stolen
The children at Albert Hall Elementary grew the veggies by themselves
With teeny tiny student hands
Nurtured them and fed them onion nutrients and water
Protected them from harm
To give them to the homeless who needed them more than life itself
We are certain, that the homeless require onions all the time
According to our sources and correspondents on the scene
They can never get enough onions on their own
The children had to save the homeless. Save them now!
The young ones said the most distressful things like
“I’m sad”, “I’m very sad.” And things like that
This threw the community into a whirlwind of perturbation
Oh! What kind of criminal mind perpetrates such a heinous act
In broad day light or any time for that fact?
Is there no decency, no justice left? What about the theft?
What ever happened to stealing cars and robbing banks?
Isn't there more profit in those crimes?
Detectives will hunt this onion bandit down and show him justice
Perhaps at the end of a rope or headless by the guillotine
Or boiled in the chowder in New England soup, to bring him to his senses
Onion bandit burglars belong in dungeons and should be sued
We can only hope he takes the 100 onions home and cuts them open
And starts to cry for the “sad” and “very sad” young ones that he hurt
And have him pay for crimes against humanity and onions
There’s nothing worse than absconding with the onions
Two Fridays ago, a fowl thief
Ruled over hearts, pets, relationships
Broke in (burglary) during my absence
Took Mr. Five (her half- brother) for his unearned pot
I just pray Kaalnek, our baby & pet, was not
Twice victim of a teen thief, safe in my hood
Why? The questions in south Africa, coddling crime
II: We forgive but Justice is the LORD'S:
Please join my miracle prayer, Kaalnek yet lives. The thief was trying to sell a chicken 4 days after the theft. I do surrender to God's will in thus matter, too
Amen. Shalom, shalom
P.S. Neighbors disclosed the thief, Jojos, son of Man-man, a shebeen owner or homebase alcohol seller. I did give chase when folk pointed Jojos out to me, but he got away. A police report has been filed
There is greatest burglary
of the 21st Century Africa
No one is directly responsible
the Black world only suspects
But the burglary is a reality
minds of young Africans taken
hearts of many youth looted
creativity, inventiveness dwarfed
We see moving flesh active
consuming internet, phones
Facebook, Whats App, twitter
with ears locked, mouths shut
Lovers of football made abroad
haters of football made in Africa
fans, fans of those foreign clubs
have their minds, hearts stolen
We see youth tracing stolen minds
look for looted hearts across seas
dreaming one day they transplant it
to the empty bodies lingering here
Worse than ancient slave trade it is
Worse than looting minerals it is
But poor Africa slumbers in peace
with youth’s minds stolen and buried
in great tombs of movies and internet
manufactured across the high seas
Unafraid of corrupt abuse of
power sharing a bed with
my abusive ex husband
Definitely changed my locks
after the graveyard dirt left
behind from mafia scum
corrupt Talisa shaw Alicia
Hilton jay Townsend Johnson
Henry Danita delmont oh
Danny boy or girl agents
agents left over from my
abusive ex husband brothals
obsession to my American
poetry sending a few old
hitmen from Gotti degenerate
crews leaving threats hahaha
Immature laughing seeing
a murdered woman Gargano
unsolved Chicago murders
Ha ha ha R Hondas sadness
rolling with Gargano garbage
faking their deaths extortion
of traumatic brain injury claim
on behalf of my injuries money
laundering Milwaukee drug smugglers
stash in order to commit heist
on disabled Americans and their families
OUT OF HARM’S WAY
The arsenal environment was what I did not like.
I went as a caregiver to make everything right.
I straighten her world to be just as mine.
The house was a radiance of modern time and the landscaped intensified.
She came home and was very surprised.
She loved her new interior and the scenery put twilights in her eyes.
Was I right for giving her a loving home?
Of course, I was but why did everything go wrong.
She had lived alone for about ten years.
Nothing had ever happen in her neighborhood.
Because I made her house such a loving place, she came susceptible to burglary.
They ramshackle the place and she exclaimed to me you gave it to much beauty.
I was right but the world is wrong.
I did not argue with her at all.
This time she would make her choices.
Today, she is safe and free from harm.
A security system was installed and her house remains adorable.
You all know me as Percival Jack
But my real name is Charles Byard
So you know, it's pronounced by-yard
Living with this name has been hard
You guys are probably wondering
Where did that name originate
Certainly never heard it ever before
At least that's what most people state
Well here's my tale, every bit is true
Uncle Byard in World War One
Died a big hero and was given a medal
But he never ever carried a gun
Before the war he was incarcerated
For his nefarious safe cracking exploits
The army thought they could use his talents
At burglary he was very adroit
So Byard was released and joined the army
To make use of his safe cracking skills
Sadly, one day while defusing a bomb
My uncle, the hero was killed
Was nicknamed Jack, but won't get into that
It's what I've been called me ever since
I'm thinking of changing it to 'Inspired Byard'
But my wife will be hard to convince
'And now you know the rest of the story'
As radio man Paul Harvey used to say
I've hated that name since I was a pup
But 'Inspired Byard' is okay!
© Jack Ellison 2012
[I got approved today for another procedure
In the old days, a procedure was a surgery,
Nowadays the insurance company approves
It’s something akin to commercial burglary!]
A surgery used to mean a long hospital stay
But a procedure, you’re in-and-out in a day,
They send you home with pain and a pill
The pain really sets in when you get the bill.
You get a form to fill out how well they did
Yes, as though you’d know, it’s all so stupid.
Take it from me, best to go in by ambulance
No waiting for hours to be seen…perchance
They rush you right into an emergency room,
Before your infected appendix goes ka-boom.
Feeling poorly, being grumpy is hardly a sin
Try to go with the flow, take it on the chin,
Keep in mind the doctors are doing their best
To keep your heart beating inside your chest.
Written May 27, 2022