Best Caught Red Handed Poems


Premium Member Heartbroken

"Broken families beget culprits, and late remorse can never set things right"
~ By Poet.

Scenes reel back casting dark shadows,
Of the fated day I had to leave my home,
Handcuffed and guarded by cops on either side,
Despised by all as one so loathsome.

I had in me, then the heart of stone
All I could think of was my own gain.
Thoroughly swept by the rip - tide of illusion,
I had no regard for another's pain.

‘Drink life to the lees' was my credo,
So, I gambled to make a hoard of money.
Drugs and dopes gave me instant delight.
Initially my days were all too sunny.

But suddenly life derailed from its track
My wallet was like a leaking tank.
All its contents drained out in no time.
Gradually into dejection and despair, I sank.

Eliminated from life by my own misdeeds,
Weary of mind from stress and strife,
Hate grew and hardened within me as a rock.
Once I ripped my rival with a knife.

Convicted and caught red handed,
I ended up in this cheerless cell.
Within these dank forlorn walls,
I shrink like an oyster in its shell.

Everything here is dusty and rusty. 
To get some peace as I attempt to sleep,
Marauding thoughts invade my brain.
Like a line of red ants, they listlessly creep.

In my ears fall the sobs of my loving mother, 
Now in dumps, orphaned by her drunken husband,
I could never love my father, a true rascal 
But I feel heartbroken as I think of my mother so abandoned

Premium Member Poetic Cyanide

You may have seen
Cinderella’s poison undressed
A few moments obscene
Where the people claiming hold to beauty
Pretend to be the victums
It’s sick to see a bully
Shed tears and play the world for fools
However cyanide nor mediocrity will do
Never seeing the world in another’s shoe
The Saints do see, looking down on your phew

They can not really write
So no one really views
Why bother with their hatred spewed?
When flowers bloom and better talent is the news

They lie and slander
Even caught red handed
They will say; is you who are blind
They, the beautiful ones, so unkind

Little ones, pretending to have big shoes
They lack eloquence but that’s not news
They are seen for what they are
Jealous of the brighter star

Without their baggage, one can travel far

Premium Member Only Slade's Brain

Tim was the new judge in Deadwood Flat
Not really qualified, just a rancher at that
He first case was of the outlaw, Horace Slade
Caught red handed in a cattle raid

The jury took ten minutes to recommend the noose
Better than letting this rattlesnake loose.
Tim smoothed out his robe, asked Slade to speak
Slade perked up, though his future was bleak

"It was only my brain, my brain it was me.
Badly constructed, that's how I plea
My thoughts, my feelings, my crooked way
All preprogrammed in my DNA!

"You see Dad was a member of the cardshop mob
Mom always drunk, and moreover a slob
My twin set a cat on fire at the age of three
So, who could predict much hope for me?

Tim panicked, searched his dictionary
Couldn't find DNA, wished he was on the prairie
He had never heard that excuse before
But said to Slade, "proceed, tell us more"

Slade felt hope, and got on a roll
He said "ain't no such thing as a soul'
"I know the computer hasn't been invented yet
"But we're programmed, coded, our path in life set!

"I shot a man to watch him die
Then partied at the bar for an alibi
Not my fault, an MRI would have shown
My limbic system, quiet as a stone.

The jury murmured, Tim gave a sigh
What was a computer, or an MRI?
Slade's nonsense was going too far
Slade could have used a lesson in better P.R.

Tim said, "I hope what you say is not true
I like soul and spirit, the afterlife too.
But either way, some feelings I can't transcend
My brain wants your pointless existence to end!

They planned to hang Slade on the Alder tree
Justice would be served, jury did agree
Then Slade tried a ploy, to explain his crime
He yelled "I'm a traveler through time!"

"I come from the year 2024
DNA, MRI, computers and more
Got stuck in a time warp, had to survive
You'd do the same to stay alive"

They had to let Slade go, agreed he's insane
Tim didn't like to do it, it went against the grain
But Deadwood Flats couldn't hang a guy
Who believed in computers, DNA, and MRI!


Premium Member Karen O'Leary—my Poetry Soup Pal!

She should have been Hera, goddess queen of heaven, the sister-wife of 
Zeus, king of the gods; she would have caught him one Friday night tipping 
Out while she sleeps to visit one of his plumy wives and over 100 relations. 
She would have said, “Sit down Zeus; let me inform you about the laws of 
Property settlement and child support in heaven with a concrete poem.”

She would have straightened up Aphrodite, goddess of love and lust.
Especially when Aphrodite was caught red-handed making love to
Her son, Ares, the God of war, she probably would have said, “Now look 
Here woman, quit messing with my son and creating all this rumblings in
Heaven with the gods.” I could see some Lanturne poems floating

She would have acted as the sister of Demeter, goddess of fertility,
Agriculture, and harvest, a sister of Zeus. Because she would have 
Blessed women with children who need them, and also farmers
With great harvest and crops to feed their families and sustain the 
People across the land, by waving a haiku poem in her healing hands

She would have screamed as the sister of Hermes, the crooked cattle-rustling
God; son of Zeus and Maia, who stole his brother, Apollo’s cows, then
Lied, and swore before Zeus, their father, “That even if I knew who stole 
Apollo’s cattle, I would not even accept a reward for finding the thief.” 
She would have gave her crooked brother, and son of Zeus, a flying senryu

She would have been with Athena, the virgin goddess of wisdom, reason, and 
Heroic endeavors; the daughter of Zeus, and Titan goddess of wise counsel 
Métis, especially when Athena appeared onto Swift-footed demigod,
Achilles, and told him, “Sheathe your sword and defeat Agamemnon, the 
Greek king with words of wisdom.”  I could see some wise epigram poems 

She was probably counseled by Apollo, her brother, god of music, healing, and 
Poetry; the son of Zeus and the Titan goddess Leto. Because she has cared 
For the sick in hospital emergency rooms, and has also stimulated us for years 
With her poetic muse. She has counseled many along the way and has calmed
Many storms with loving charm. “Hail my sister in Christ—Karen O’Leary!”

Happy birthday angel and wishing you many more for years to come!

Sandy Hook Elementary Imposter, Fake Father Robbie Parker

* A tale of a charlatan, caught pretending to be a father of a Newton Massacre 
Victim----(feel free to view his hyperbole on Youtube, search Robbie Parker 
Interview)


      This place is not big on naming names, but you sir, are despicable! Usurp 
nightmares of another. Charlatan! How can you do what you do, there, bold 
face lying for world news cameras. You, the very reason mine stomach pit, 
ulcer amore'! Tho' there's no clear understanding for sins you've committed. 
Those children! Where are the tears Robbie Parker? Where are the tears? We 
can't look at you anymore! 
      The epitome of evil approached the podium, unaware we were staring into 
your laughing eyes. Caught red handed, you Superman'd into character. 
Despise, despise! No, I won't pretend like the others that hate is not in my 
heart. You see, minus hate, love remains half mast. I thank you for the 
juxtaposition. Yet, sickening you are. And the truth is out Mr. Parker, you are 
a farce! Now I ask...Where does the misconception end? You mock naysayers, 
label them "Conspiracy Theorists" amongst other choice vulgarities. In return, 
I request answers. Answers to understand where true conspiracy roams, for' 
I'm no dummy little buddy, and I know where there's smoke, fire is nearby. 
Meanwhile, you might want to sharpen your acting skills, for the end is nigh. 
And you Robbie Parker are only a speck of the lie.

You rigged the book on Sandy Hook.

Her Encounter With a Paedophile

She was tender and fragile...
till She met this paedophile.
the evil had just landed
never to be caught red-handed.
His fantasies were little girls
... he loved crushing those beautiful pearls..
with his dirty male appendages...
she screemed in silence
and resisted that violence
20 yrs have passed...
how she was beign harassed
in no news channel it was ever broadcast...
that fear in her heart
distanced her and she fell apart..
i hope when you read this
 still love her with a kiss..
life teaches us to be strong
how to play the same tune and song...
if you're tortured and abused
and a voice you never used
he will visit you again..
to inflict the pain...







Copyright @ REDfiery 2011, December
© Red Fiery  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member Too Good To Be You Parts 1 and 2 a Poem On Plagiarism

I guess we can struggle when we sit down to write
But use your own words - to plagiarise isn’t right
When I read a poem that’s simply too good to be true 
I then begin to question, was it even written by ‘you’ 

If I google  a few lines it will give me the answer
You’ve been caught red handed – you were a chancer 
I just want to read poems that I’ve never read before 
If I find stolen work  I won’t read ‘yours’ any more
 
Why claim words from another writer, as it is a crime 
You’ll never find stolen words in any poem of mine 

Part 1 posted on soup 7th February 2015

 
Part 2 ... 


To obtain contest glory and gong
You stole another's words, it's so wrong
Plagiarism is vile
You've done it quite a while
I’m hoping this is your swan song

Hollander died aged eighty three
So tell me how could it be
His work’s here on soup
‘you’ wrote it – that’s poop
Soup booted this fraud speedily!

Sadly the culprit has once again been posting stolen work soup even entering it for contests, thanks to eagle eyed souper's he has been removed once more.

30th December 2019

The Slovenly Slovene

In an attempt to establish an uncertain linkage between 2 parables,
Ivo Torena resorted to impress his colleagues all night long; hence,
awkward as a cow on a crutch, he was cowed into pilfering bananas,
and when he was caught red-handed by the deputy, his eyes showed
no response even though his arteries were friendly. Thus, a series of
tribulations took place inside his troubled mind for outlandish
reasons, and his whereabouts were commended by one of the top
enemies of the state: The twerp from Antwerp. On a serious note,
a cabal of notorious hotshots devised an agenda to unnerve Ivo
until the cow comes home. Still and all, Torena has a truly unique
composure, unlike the belligerent Belgian, and his mannerisms
can't be reciprocated with ease. Furthermore, the notoriety with
which he prattled and sprattled was momentous! His uneventful
birth can't hold a candle to any cinematographic invention although
his water bottle company is a candle in the wind and the pieces
begin to assemble duly without second thoughts whatsoever.
© Ivor Kos  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member My Hypocrisy

My Hypocrisy




Readily love to lie
rather than break a heart,
Falsely take oaths
to make believe it right,

Caught red handed
for my hypocrisy,
My patients
are so humble and wise,

Emotions so true
expressions can't hide,
When my words
don't match my face,

I can't be much of a
smart hypocrite,
Whatever is in my heart
shows in my eyes!






Written April 20th, 2015
For contest "What is your hypocrisy" by Justin Bordner

HM in contest

Premium Member Liberal Breakfast

When the bacon began to fry turning sides burning 
the sausage jumped of the pan when the egg squealed

It was then you saw the beef stirring underneath surprised
behind a joint the fat was cooked just right bubbling
 
Dripping boiling lard this greasy mess left two feet
something was added pepper sprayed in wording

Peeling the onion the salt dropped into the pot spiced
naked to the bone you were caught red handed

You're in boiling water now deeply stuck up or down system
where the temperature is gauged within a stew brewing

Which cut would you like to begin with exposed
because I smell something toasting in front of the grill

Union of Disguising Faces

wow! A sweet couple’s vague love of whole night 
                           everything of day time seems to be bright 
                           union of disguising faces falsely improvise 
                           living with blocked hearts tend to demise 

                           lives are in disease of traumatic condition 
                          they show their false sleeping no suspicion
                       even when one snores other lodges no complain 
                         conspiring images of outsiders passes in vein 

                       suddenly wife’s cell rings that’s in vibrating mood
                    awaking from false deep sleep he becomes a tiger rude 
                           sees the number that is of a neighbor’s guy
                      thought got the final result after observing as a spy   

                          as she is caught red handed she's ranted high 
                        once he’s also caught so she tried to give him eye 
                   then he's given thanks to her as she did not spill about him
                      actually they are the same meaning of same synonym

                 
                       For Contest: Desperate Housewife - Poetry Contest
                       Sponsored by: Poet Destroyer A

Arthur Sly

Let it be known that Arthur Sly
Was caught red handed and sentenced to die

For he trespassed and stole fine things
Like loaves of bread, diamonds, and rings

This urchin of Satan horded all
And the others to answer his call

This gangsters hideout was well concealed
 Till we tortured his mates to seal the deal

No matter how slight he might be in years
His mind is best amongst his peers

To rid us of this Haynes threat
Let him be hung by the neck!

The date is uncertain of this jest
My  magistrates motives are blotchy at best

He says there is more and wishes to show
Her majesties guest at the ball in snow

Premium Member Beyond the Bars

“A person who is remorseful over his past actions without any inclination to change just punishes himself. On the other hand, remorse with a desire to change is so constructive and will yield wonderful results”- ~ By Poet

Scenes reel back casting dark shadows,
Of the fated day I had to leave my home,
Handcuffed and guarded by cops on either side,
Despised by all as one so loathsome.

I had in me, then the heart of stone.
All I could think was of my own gain.
Thoroughly swept by the rip - tide of illusion,
I had no regard for another’s pain.

‘Drink life to the lees’ was my credo.
So I gambled to make a hoard of money.
Drugs and dopes gave me instant delight.
Initially my days were all too sunny

But suddenly life derailed from its track.
My wallet was like a leaking tank.
All its contents drained out in no time.
Gradually into dejection and despair, I sank.

Eliminated from life by my own misdeeds,
Weary of mind from stress and strife,
Hate grew and hardened within me as a rock.
Once I ripped my rival with a knife.

Convicted and caught red handed,
I ended up in this cheerless cell.
Within these dank forlorn walls,
I shrink like an oyster in its shell.

Everything here is dusty and rusty 
To get some peace as I attempt to sleep,
Marauding thoughts invade my brain.
Like a line of red ants, they listlessly creep.
…….      ……..      ………    ……….

But years of confinement have changed my life.
I am determined not to give up my fight.
Somehow, I will push and pull myself on
And will walk victorious to the world of light.

Through these cold rusted prison bars,
Now I look into a world that lies beyond.
From dead faces, longingly I cast my eyes, 
On all that once to me has been so very fond.

I must go back to life, so sadly lost,
And live for the day I will make a new start.
I hope I can make it, at least have to try,
And realize the dreams I still treasure in my heart!

Premium Member Wakey Wakey

Everyone sees
except the clown
eternal illusions
edged into oblivion
exposed
even old ladies laugh now and know
earmark of fool
ego bigger than a hallmark brain
egotistical mind ejaculated into space
eccentricity of ai caught red handed
embodiment of fraud
emotionless thief who steals the spotlight
empathy a pill he will never swallow
embezzling attention anyway he can
enchanted realms, he has been forbidden
encroaching on poetic graveyards, a sin
ears that hear, eyes that see
escape this villain, run for sanity

The "high" Sheriff True Story

In the 1960's, in a small West Texas college town of Alpine
Sul Ross State, was known for cowboys and rodeo teams
Had an above average student there, that wanted to be a cop
With a dream to throw all the crooks in jail, make them walk the line
He always wore a white hat in his dreams
And what he was headed for was, "the cream of the crop"

His name is Rick Thompson, I went to school with the guy
At first a university cop, then to the city police force
But deep down inside, money was his need
With all the energy in the world and a  lot of try
The old western type of lawman, cowboy and horse
Until his down fall, because of his greed

Then went next door, to Marfa another little cow town
Right on the Mexican border, a drug smuggler's paradise
They need a new sheriff, the Marshal Dillon kind
Won every election,hands down
Wore a cowboy hat, but then he rolled the Devil's dice
He liked that cocaine money and what it could do for his mind

Was voted number one sheriff in Texas, everyone liked Old Rick
The Mafioso did too, they needed his protection
"Why he was ranch raised, just an old cowboy"
But all of that dirty money, he fell for the Devil's trick
Lost his fancy star, got him headed in a new direction
Found out just what it cost to be a "Cocaine Cowboy"

Got caught red handed with a TON OF COCAINE
Back of a horse trailer, street value of 43 million
He lost it all and sold his soul
A good cop gone bad and caused a lot of pain
Lost the white hat, the halo and the image of Marshal Dillon
Now in a Federal Pen somewhere...doing life without parole
© Danny Nunn  Create an image from this poem.

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