Best Convicts Poems
We gather
thirsty, weary
like a flock of birds after a long flight
ready to drink Holy Spirit revival.
The congregation
children of God
the bride of Christ, His beloved
sing praises to the risen King
voices lift like the rising sun.
Holy Word of God
burns like fire within the soul
convicts hearts to follow Him
sin’s deadly stains washed away
cleansed by the Redeemer’s blood.
Down under continent
Down low is Australia
Australia the big island
Australia sixth largest continent
Country whose desert known as outback
Country who has the largest reef
Reef called the Great Barrier
Reef found off northeastern coast
Coast 35,877 kilometer of shoreline
Coast provides fun in the sun
Sun beats down on the desert
Sun is brightest in our winter
Winter offers some snow
Winter's are mild
Mild hop, hop of Kangaroos
Mild climbing of Koala
Koala live high in trees
Koala eat eucalypt leaves
Leaves favored blue, mansa, and swamp gum
Leaves are Koala's daily diet
Diet of Australian influenced by world
Diet consist of variety of foods
Food introduced from Ireland, Europe
Food from Italy, Greece and Asian new spices
Spices used in stir fry
Spices changed meat's taste
Taste of foods like rice, oranges, bananas
Taste of foods from all over the world
World influences shaped continent
World and Britian settled
Settled by Aborigines
Settled also by Britian
Britain sent convicts
Britian sent soldiers to New South Wales
Wales brassy, bold, stately and old
Wales sandy beaches, Jenolan Caves
Caves above ground
Caves in sea waters for adventure
Adventures in Abercrombie cave
Adventures in Tasmania
Tasmania mecca for adventure
Tasmania's mountainous terrain
Terrain for wild river raft
Terrain of sheer cliffs to climb
Climb the Great Dividing Range
Climb to new heights down under
Under sunny skies
Under skies so blue
Blue
Skies
Written: August 14, 2015
Influenced by Debbie Guzzie's contest..
First Blitz..Whoa!!
**You name them your blood
**You fight side by side
**Against the “Enemy”:
**The different in sight
Your soldiers against soldiers
And Yet
You’re all alike
Both brothers from Adam and Eve
Alive you’ll never come close to one another
But you’re friends die side by side
You both heal but hate
You both suffer in and out of battlefields
You're all good
But you've all been call bad
You're suppose to be fighting the system
But the system is beating you up
It's gotten you in a Sibling Rivarly
We start with name callings:
Latino chickens
American slave driver
Arab terrorists
African dust
--Convicts--
Then it's fist fights:
I got a slap
I got a punch
I got a kick
I’ve gone to jump you
--& Pretty soon a tornado--
And we died with weapons:
I’ve got a rope
I’ve got a brass knuckle
I’ve got a knife
I’ve got a gun
--I’ve got a bomb--
Maybe, it's time you understand
That you didn’t kill him
With your guns or knives
You killed him with your hate
**You name them your blood
**You died side by side
**Against “Your brothers”
**The same inside
(For the Sibling Rivalary Contest)
"I'm hearing images, I'm seeing songs no poet has ever painted
Voices call out to me, straight to my heart"
Cold, emotionless, and her nature, defiant
Hard to connect with as well as unreliant
A boarding school for outcasts such as Wednesday
Revenge for brother, brings on her sinister way
Dysfunctional families—ivory towers make wagers
Enrolled are lost souls and morbid teenagers
Like Arkham Asylum, a long and brutal history
Medieval mayhem come to life again in her story
Nevermore Island, Romania’s Nevermore Academy
Unconventional practices become their enemy
Designed for students with extreme personalities
Who don’t think their practices convey abnormalities
Is an all American coming-of-age supernatural
Tangled in spider silk or it’s web, which is factual?
And there it is the unscrupulous psycho-therapist
A principal’s shapeshifter and her sorceress rapist
Forcing thoughts back into some semblance of order
Werewolves, vampires, gorgons, and sirens who boarder
Are the architectural texts with applications ubiquitous
And the requisite archaic desperate mass exodus
Dark long tresses, paints it black in gothic dresses
Many who are romantic interests she addresses
Rises to an ovation with a most clever shadow dance
Sanity, reason, balance, rationality, and much arrogance
Behind the smiling facade of normality where lie derelicts
There lurks a psychopathic serial killer, and other convicts
Beyond their control, declined their world of decadence
Insanity, lunacy, madness, the outcasts show no evidence
Highly severe psychological and physical illnesses?
Or real paranormal abominations and alien devises
Guiding her are messages from the beyond with passion
Her lecture combined intellectual lucidity and compassion
L'Empéreur s'amuse
(after Victor Hugo)
For the banished ones, of stubborn resistance,
France is far off. The tomb is near.
But don’t worry, Prince. Enjoy your existence.
In the Bois de Boulogne, chase deer,
chase women in the theatre. Rome’s burning incense
for you. The Tsar calls you “mon frère”.
Play on, sweet Prince. You have swans in Compiegne
and you have the wines of Bordeaux.
You seek novelty, amusement? Why then,
they’ll bring you fourchettes from Les Baux.
Swooning under your crown of grapes, tiens!
You’re something out of Caravaggio.
The convicts are building the lighthouse. Fine.
So ordered, by the King.
They’re casting bells on foundry lines.
In hellish heat, they’re suffering.
One day their light is going to shine.
Those bells are going to ring.
So dawdle, dally. Have your fun.
Put on your languid airs.
The thread of Fate’s already spun.
Who’s going to hear your prayers?
Who will save you? Where will you run,
when the people take what’s theirs?
What are you doing on this planet?
Are you just walking around like a chick magnet?
Well I don't want to attract the wrong crowd
Coz that's not what I'm worried about
I'm here trying to save people from the power of hell [1]
Proclaiming the truth of Jesus Christ, the true Gospel
I don't care if doesn't seem fancy to you
Coz I'd lay down my life for Him coz I know He's true
That's my vision, mission and my purpose in life
Not owning a huge place, a great job and a beautiful wife
Those things are needed but we need to keep our focus
On the One True God, Immanuel, "God with Us"
Coz all these things will one day be left behind
And then it'll be too late to realize that we were blind
Following the god of this world and the things that he gives
Instead of coming to the Lord Jesus Christ the One who forgives
Who shed His precious blood to wash away our sins
Coz we were sinful from our mother's womb
That's why He died and was placed inside a tomb
But death couldn't hold Him, He resurrected bodily after three days
And now He gives abundantly to us from His amazing grace
So come to Him no matter how sinful you are
Coz He's so close that our breath seems far
[1] It is not me who saves but the Holy Spirit who convicts a sinner and brings him to the saving knowledge of Christ
They've tossed their souls away
again
harlots for a vote
they've fingered the race card
the rapist card
the Russian card
the Ukraine card
now they're playing mahjong
with a virus.
Muzzling our freedoms and rights
placing plastic tiles in our minds
when this latest fallacy fails
they'll boomerang (black)
to the race card again.
They're locking {we the people away}
giving early release to protect rapist
and assorted other derelicts... from the flu!
Do they think a tsunami of convicts
will keep six feet away from our
daughters
mothers
grandmothers.
My father used to sweat the flu out
I remember him saying
"get me another blanket"
we'd stack them three or four high,
The fever would break
he'd be back to work the next day.
only to inhale benzene rings
to keep us in meat and greens...
They don't make them like that anymore
This will be a baton head splitting summer
oppression will detonate
spill freedoms' soul onto the avenues
fringe factions will clash..
Come November
just remember who locked you up
released the filth of society onto our streets
remember who pointed fingers-fell asleep
while withholding your money
to gain political traction
trashing the economy
running helter skelter over livelihoods
come November-shout out people!
remember how your local gvt. couldn't find
illegal alien felons to deport them
but suddenly found them long enough
to give them your Wuhan money -your bread and honey
come November vote their globalist behinds out of office
and into their
plush-slush funded gated community
Great country rich, land of my birth, that cradled my childhood and taught me of
Worth.'
Land of struggles, and dreamtime lore.'
A country of invention, and of weathers raw.'
Do we have an easy history.? I must answer no.' I owe us; that much at the
least.'
In my mix of emotions, i shall try to so'
Well, to put a relief of our history in this
I'll tell.'
Of a crowns avairice, of some humans in
Chains, others free agents who came to
Make gain'
They came to Australia..with expectations
And dreams, some of great horror' they did
Create scenes.'
Then there were the existing, the Aboriginal
Mobs, living for millenia with their corroberee councils..
Hunters and trackers, survivalists and they paid their costs, leaving newborn infants, in
The open to die.' If the extra life would be too much? This was a part of their bush lives; to oft..
Then there were the guvenors, and officers of the crown, instructed to tame the country.'
With their own views.' As they built the settlements, and kept their convicts
Down.'
There were lashings and hangings, And genocide too.' All tasmanian Native
Peoples wiped out..Its quite true.'the decades advanced..
( The boomerang factor )
From the past collision of cultures, a new country was emerging..Herb Elliot was to become a champion, Lionel Rose Evonne Goolagong,
Shane Gould..We were really flying.'
In the 1960s and 1970s there was an atmosphere of change and hope.' A wish
To be more unified, and a regret.' I tell
No jokes.. I ask all Aussies can we
Go back.? And fix the wrongs we did not
Do.'
Or do we move forward on Australia day.'
And all the days that follow too.? Can we
Be free of trauma.? Yet refer to lessons past.? I advise resume in the ' true blue spirit ' and give the world a blast.' Avoid the
Forigen influencers who want to rake dead
Coals..' Only to enslave us all..!!! Now
get up' be your best; be really bold.!!!
Far as the Politics and this is my voice
Medical Marijuana is the right choice
Even though that road is no longer for me
It serves a purpose and that’s clear to see
Convicts are growers as it thins out the pen
Offering the players a game they can win
It’s true; home invasions may be on the rise
As smoke from the pot fills up our skies
Children of growers will grow up and use
Trying hard to fill up their parent’s shoes
We work, pay taxes, they rake in the cash
Everybody’s looking for some kind of stash
My stash is my daughter she is also my pride
From her there are no actions I would ever hide
There are two little feet that are following me
Eyes as beautiful and innocent as two eyes can be
Those eyes look at me like I’m Robert De Niro
I’m not just her daddy I’m that little girls hero
Because, I made the changes a man makes in life
I made them for my children and also my wife
I’m at the top of my class and like it or not
I wouldn’t be here, sitting around smoking pot
The Lord is my Shepherd my wife is my friend
Each lets me know there are rules I can’t bend
I talked it over with the Lord and my wife
Everything bad comes with that way life
We no longer choose to wear addicts shoes
But you be our guest go right ahead and use
I bear no animosity I will hold no grudge
I may be a Christian but I am no Judge
Aside from all the Politics this is my voice
I know growing pot is not the right choice
Medical Marijuana is an issue that I have
friends on each side of the table. I think
each side has many valid points. i think
it's an issue that will never be resolved
because the two sides see things very
differently. I have far to much to live
for to sit around high. But then again,
who am I to judge.
Sharp Suited Sharks
Feeding
Fervently Feasting, Foul Fiends
Covetous Cuthroats, Cultured Convicts Convincing
Innocents Inked In Immensely Incurred Interests,
Indebted
Enslaved, Effaced Emotions, Exasperated
Send the convicts to the jails -
Local jails! -
What a world of confinement as their court case fails
Hear the jingle, jingle, jingle
Of the handcuffs as they walk
Now with men they only mingle
They may as well be single
Doing time, time, time,
For a thoughtless bungled crime
As their ratting, pigeon, stoolie partners send them with their tales
To the jails, jails, jails, jails,
Jails, jails, jails -
To the friendly and the cleanly local jails
Send the felons to the jails -
Fed'ral jails!
What a world of isolation as the judge prevails!
Hear the hammer, hammer, hammer,
In the dead and dark of night
As they're locked into the slammer!
All the other inmates clamor
To the jailers delight
Doing time, time, time,
For a botched "ruinic" crime
Which not admitted but committed and their last appeal fails
While in jails, jails, jails, jails,
jails, jails, jails -
While in insufficient and deficient jails
Sometimes it causes me to tremble
When I remember that country preacher
Telling the story of Jesus
Being crucified when I was little
I felt bad that He did nothing wrong.
And in college,
I learned this song
A ***** Spiritual
Were you there?
When singing this song
It caused my voice teachers’
Body to tremble
As the vibrato spinned
As the words sprang out
About the story once heard
Of how my savior died,
And how he on was lied.
And now that I’m older
And I’ve gained knowledge
And now grown
And I’m on my own
With no one but the
Lord to depend on
The story means more to me
Than when I was that little girl
Without a care in the world
When that country preacher
Told it about how the nails
Pierced him far from gently
How the crown of thorns
Was crushed blood vessels
In his head.
How he knew he had
To face the sinful world
Just like how I know
I have to face it because
God is calling me
To assist in ministry
I want to be more like Jesus
Everyday and in every way.
It deeply convicts me
To see on movies
And to visualize in my mind
What He did at Calvary
That day at any given time
It causes me to tremble
And tears to fall.
I know in my heart
I have no other choice
Than to accept His call
And give my all and all
To gain victory for His people
Because He died for it
Already.
It doesn’t matter
If you were there when he died
He just wants you
To know that He did
And all you have to do
Is come to Him like a little kid
And he will do the rest
This is what He does best.
I hope that it causes you to tremble
Whether or not we resemble
Each other in Him we are all
Sisters and brothers
Were you there, then?
It doesn’t matter
Be here now
He died and rose on the third day
For those who were then
And now trembling in sin.
wrote 7-14-10
Our great motherland
Called the giant of Africa
With the shadow of an ant
And the night of an earthworm
On her way to glory.
Led 'magnificently' by the thieves
Ex-convicts,murderers and mad men;
Our souls they've reduced to slush
And our spirits have been 'sharpvilled'
For revenge.
The French revolution
Should be played in our motherland
In the hope that our 'magnificent' leaders
Be thoroughly eliminated from us
And a new dawn we await for our motherland.
Back when I was a rebellious, care free young lad
there was this regular practice that I had.
I can remember when, every now and again
I would visit my local court house and watch the sentencing.
Defendants were declared convicts officially
and marched off to serve their time at some correctional facility.
Their lives were now forever changed for the worse most likely
and then on one visit it really struck me
that there but for the grace of God goes I
and I've been only lucky so far not screwing up my life,
but all luck does run out eventually,
So Don't Blow It!
Right now you have this one chance to change immediatly,..
...and so I did and for the better I believe.
Hanging at a court house was great therapy for me apparently.
Patiently waiting in a line
eyeballed an wary
harsh barking of subterranean cultures
standing weary and inured
to the rotten
fug
the rotten
oxygen
inside the high walls and wire, the weighted stone of
the convicted
existing like convicts