Best Ill Gotten Poems
He served as a deacon in his church and was as pious as they come.
(But on the side, he sold whiskey from a thirty-gallon drum!)
He taught the junior high Sunday school class and was a Bible scholar.
(But on the side, he 'stilled' moonshine way back up in the holler!)
He was faithful in tithing ten percent of his ill-gotten gain.
(For his John Barleycorn he used only the best obtainable grain!)
He occupied the same pew every Sunday listening with attentive ear.
(It was rumored about that he also brewed some very potent beer!)
He proffered an "amen" at appropriate times and wore a suit and tie.
(He was renowned throughout the county for his very delectable rye!)
His tenor voice blended well when singing, "I Love Thy Kingdom, Lord."
(On back roads he did a bit of bootlegging in his hopped-up V-8 Ford!)
He was the first to offer succor to widows, orphans and others left bereft.
(He'd run his still for years - at evading "revenooers" he was very deft!)
When folks were needed to serve on committees he was first to volunteer.
(When asked his occupation he replied, "I'm a 'Spirit'ual Engineer!")
At Yuletide he was generous with the parson giving him a beef, cash and pork.
(At the annual church picnic he surreptitiously passed a bottle to uncork!)
There couldn't be found a finer saint in all of Boondock County, Kentucky.
(He'll continue to "minister" to parched throats thereabouts - if he's lucky!)
Entry for Tania Kitchin's "Primiere Trophy Contest" Contest
This poem is worthy of a Primiere Trophy since it won First Place in the Poetry Soup International Poetry Contest in April 2011. (Won $50 and an Outstanding Poetic Achievement Certificate).
Categories:
ill gotten, funny,
Form:
Rhyme
I'm a message poet,
with a diamond pointed pen
I crack the hidden safes,
and take a honest look within
Things people wanna keep secret,
dark things they don't want coming to light
Corruption sealed in steel containers,
safe from any purview or oversight
Let the blood from my ink of truth
seep into their secret crevices
Shake the metal boxes of lies to the hard floor,
then crack open the impenetrable sealed doors
Exposing all the bartered deceit and appraisal sins,
unethical agreements and ill-gotten possessions
When letting the people know
where all of their hard earned money went
The cost of liberty, always,
is ink well spent
Categories:
ill gotten, identity, perspective, poets, truth,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
Spiritual injection,
soul to the bone marrow gene therapy
Regeneration revived me,
when grace was bestowed abundantly
Dipped my soul in the water,
emerged with a spark of godly desire
I wanted to be holy ...
be elevated higher
I felt the fire
as it began to burn within
The flames of purification
burned away all my sins
And the fire kept burning within
Melted away my stony heart,
reshaped it into a new spiritual organ
More generous,
more compassionate
More empathy,
more circumspect
What now burns within,
grows more intense everyday
My old desires all burning away
Embers of the past cremated into ash;
buried under the tree,
next to the leaves of all my ill-gotten cash
Resurrected bones born in the fire ---
I walk by faith on the water of troubles,
every blessing from above now doubled
What burns within ...
is a gift from the Everlasting Almighty
What burns within ...
birthed a new spirit that guides me rightly
What burns within ...
cleared away all my doubt and pain
What burns within ...
fallowed my soul to be born again
Categories:
ill gotten, inspirational, spiritual, truth, wisdom,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
A shaman prays, the Spirit hears
While a Seventh Calvary regiment waits
Unarmed, a tribe endures a Union's hate
Their animosities, and their fears
As the blue coats begin to circle...
Their wrath begins to circle.
That shaman saw but a single Spirit
That was split between different beliefs
He could accept the white Spirit Chief
But the white men would not hear it
They would not blend their God
With the red heathen God.
Anger explodes behind powdered shot
Spraying death from muzzled shame
Cruelly winning their ill gotten fame
Painted heroes claim a tainted spot
History claims the Ghost Dance...
As death claims the last dance.
A Dakota creek runs darkly red
Forever silencing the Ghost Dance
A chanting shaman dies in his trance
One hundred fifty Sioux lay dead
Now, only blue coats remain...
Only the blue remain.
A creek ran red with Union shame
When a shaman called the Spirit Great
And that Spirit did not hesitate
He fell on Wounded Knee and came
To take His people home...
His people swiftly home.
Timothy I. Brumley
Categories:
ill gotten, history, inspirational, native americandeath,
Form:
Narrative
A Cup Runneth Over
His cup runneth over, yet he craves more
As flights of hubris on wings of greed soar,
Rich is the life of caviar and champagne,
Where ruthlessness wins his races in fast-lane
And nightmares roil semblance of sane;
His cup runneth over, yet he fills again.
Some sans much, assert they have enough,
Strengthened by love when times are rough;
Not so for the man, whose soul preens in vain,
When arrogance of ego commands his terrain
As flights of hubris on wings of greed soar;
His cup runneth over, yet he craves more.
Dreams he dreamt once, vacant still remain,
Benevolence of love never could he attain,
For illusory is glitter spurious gems feign
And love is just a mirage phony hearts reign
Whose rhythm never attains lyrical refrain;
His cup runneth over, yet he fills again.
Void of nothingness is driving him insane
While haughtiness tallies his ill-gotten gain,
Detesting ruthlessly woes of others’ pain,
Mocking their misery in contemptuous disdain
As flights of hubris on wings of greed soar;
His cup runneth over, yet he craves more.
July 24, 2022
Placed 1st: Pick-A-Title, Vol 31 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
Theme: A Cup Runneth Over
Categories:
ill gotten, emotions, humanity, perspective,
Form:
Rhyme
born under the sea, an irresistible force
two bodies reluctantly embrace, shunting, shifting, tectonic drifting
alongside the southern Iapetus Ocean
equatorial deep-time child of Laurentia and Avalonia
journey northward, surfacing, submerging
surfing the waves again, a colder Hibernian dalliance
precariously perched on Eurasian plate
old bedrock confused, youthful erosion above the ancient order
darkness entombed around channelled winter light
early New Grange civilisation, the Boyne valley before the blood
river mouth vikings, raiding, assimilating
birth of the coming capital, eastern stronghold, Baile Atha Cliath
chain-mail Norman conquerors castle-building
appointing pious supplicants with sword, cloth, crook and cross
wholly unholy alliances unravel
rival hierarchies sharing ill-gotten earthly reward from overseas
saintliness, brutality, men and women
expanding Christendom, pagan kingdoms adjusting to defeat
Patrick, Brigid, Columba, Columbanus
Irish civilising roman catholic conduits, Dalriata to Lindisfarne
outreaching, a strand of Irish character
yet to encounter future revisionary metaphysical thought
protestant rebellion, mainland overspill
praying elites competing, preying on the island's god-fearing people
avian watchers on Skellig pinnacles
warm ocean currents well-up, catching the southwestern gale
enduring the ill-will of nature and man
supplanting, subjugating, saving souls, the power of might and fear
treachery within or well beyond the pale
fair and dark hair, ginger genetics existing on the edge of life
tossed thin people hanging on, many leaving
scraping blighted ground, returning to the sea, promise of the unknown
Categories:
ill gotten, community, history, ireland, time,
Form:
Narrative
Many dictators come to a well-deserved fate
Brutally assassinated or dying at their own hands,
Consider these more recent promoters of hate
In third world countries and distant foreign lands.
Hitler, Stalin, Mussolini immediately come to mind,
But Mao, “Papa Doc” and Castro died from ill health
They, like too many, lived to a ripe-old age, we find,
And too many lived in opulence, off ill-gotten wealth.
Nicolae Ceausescu of Romania is a notable exception
He was executed by firing squad along with his wife.
All these men were evil incarnate, it's my perception,
It is my opinion they should’ve all been denied life.
Written December 4, 2022
Categories:
ill gotten, anti bullying, death, evil,
Form:
Quatrain
Compassion Within Us, Placed By Divine Hands
Compassion, weakness or a curse
or expression of mercy's heart,
I denying Love, which is worse
than savagery this world imparts
became blind in my silent pains
an enigma, lost, out of touch
treasuring my ill-gotten gains
my lies held firm, my needed crutch.
In ignorance racing along
my repentant soul yet cried out
I running from world's teeming throngs
destiny's hand, life turned about
compassion's touch, came not too late
*I am the master of my fate.*
Written 3rd February 5th, 2020
For famous poetic lines 2 poetry contest sponsored by Silent One.
The ending line in this new sonnet: **I am the master of my fate.**
is in reference to the line chosen:
"I am the master of my fate" - written by William Ernest Henley
Credit given to William Ernest Henley for his fine verse and the poetry
and gift of power and imaginative verse it inspired.
Categories:
ill gotten, appreciation, care, deep, fate,
Form:
Sonnet
He was known to be a carefree dandy
Once he got boozed up with brandy
Driving his new car
He felt flying in the air
He wailed, “The brake doesn’t come handy”
Because of over speed, broke the car’s tier
Hit it on a tree with a thud severe
Some people came running
They saw him screaming
In pain, he was springing in the air!
He was lifted up in an ambulance,
With scars all over his countenance.
Some accompanied him
Inside it was quite grim
He was kept under careful observance
Slowly he showed signs of improvement
On limp legs, there were signs of movement
When steadied in health,
Was sad on ill gotten wealth.
On wheels, resolved not to be negligent.
March.2.2022
Tall Tale 1 Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Jeff Kyser
Categories:
ill gotten, car, care, drink,
Form:
Limerick
Claiming
In the gathering darkness
The land opened its mouth wide
To swallow all the wind
You boasted
To swallow up all the ill-gotten gains
Darkness devoured your face
And adopted your greedy soul
Dancing wildly were your limbs in the air
Like a puppet pulled by Satan
Blowing over my ears was the wind
And your screaming
The higher the roar was
The deeper my sorrow was
It was dignity
That was thrown into the bottom of the hell
Categories:
ill gotten, beach, best friend, birth,
Form:
Free verse
Listen up, y'all! I've got a vision to share
Of a world where corruption doesn't dare
To rear its ugly head or show its face
Where justice and fairness set the pace
Imagine a place where bribes are extinct
Where honest work is the only link
To success and progress, can you see it?
A society where truth ain't something we cheat
In this world, the powerful serve the weak
Transparency ain't just some politicians speak
It's the air we breathe, the water we drink
The foundation on which we build and think
Creativity explodes when fairness reigns
Innovation bursts from unfettered brains
No more holding back, no more fear
Of speaking truth to those who should hear
Education blooms like wildflowers in spring
Knowledge is power and everyone's king
Science advances, art transcends
In a world where corruption meets its end
Meritocracy's not just a fancy word
It's lived every day, seen and heard
From the streets to the highest office
Where leaders serve, not harvest profits
Picture courts where Lady Justice ain't blind
But sees clearly with an impartial mind
Where the scales tip only with the weight of truth
Not the size of the wallet, you feel me, youth?
In this brave new world, we've broken the chain
Of systemic oppression, of ill-gotten gain
Every voice matters, and every dream can soar
In a society that's fair to its very core
Businesses thrive on innovation, not manipulation
The government serves the people, not some corporation
The media speaks truth, unafraid and bold
A new age of enlightenment, a story untold
But this ain't no fairy tale, no pipe dream
It's a future we can build, a possible regime
It starts with you, with me, with all of us
Standing up for what's right, creating trust
So let's rise, let's make it real
This corrupt-free world, it's our ideal
Where justice flows like a mighty river
And fairness is a gift we all deliver
From the ashes of greed, watch creativity rise
A phoenix of progress, touching the skies
This is our time, our moment to shine
In a world where justice and fairness align!
Let's build this utopia, brick by brick
Where corruption's absence makes innovation tick
A creative society, fair and just
In our hands, in our hearts, in our trust!
Categories:
ill gotten, corruption, endurance,
Form:
Free verse
"Decastich"
~Based on the gross pay scale of poverty
World based capitalism is illusion
Loss doth net the sum, eventually
The poor will never reap an inclusion
This is a rich get richer delusion
~Wealthy plan assures poverty full-blown
Labor for the rich until mind is gone
While the rich enjoy their ill gotten stash
Take up the truth and prove, the rich eat stone
A stone of truth, upon which teeth will gnash
*********
For DR Ram
And Contest: Dizain
Categories:
ill gotten, allegory,
Form:
Dizain
Is there a memo motionless meaning that co considers
the let me know not the in between time of soul space that swells
spit in time and all things youless and common/uncommon in a new raw
omniplural potpourri vs a humnopre-salient cap-able anti
impractical public a anonoymous -----let it be the me behind
the windless wheel well of counter culture communation happy
ig no rant dance given to adulto frown friends with no
inner countenance to the opposite of their children's
heretofore genetic anaglous inheritenance, happenstance with the all degradratory of who's who on first impractical **** annoyance given to parentosociosuck prevelances.
Let it be me and my behold every endurance
behind the wishless wheel wonders like stale bread kisses that
will leave a bastard/***** beholding another ever unpresent illego negligent
my me mine me behind--as an ever ill gotten gain gopher behold!!
I offer no ill indifference to a an **** ego indifference, as it wanes itself
in an annotated post partum parental quandary with all of the estrogenous misgivings that minus all of our copious relative holiday misgivings; hope/love/angst/fear/fake fornication that co comprise our inner grasp gasp being to err offend everyone in our inner nature neighborhood never openly negative of your own offspring offerings as they relate to your perfectly PC credentialed crassness of age coinciding with the
all year round as life asked of us relatives to/fro in/out closed/open/in/out/add/subtract/distract, ect, ect, ect,.
Far from first inner circle seconds included and removed offended defended included/excluded as to their proper "tudes" to be later revealed related as to a toddler tranquil trance perfectly placed belovedly behind a two tone parental (irr)rational regal rememberance
that reveals a riviteing rancid rationale reward right vs mostly wrong.
Matching sibiling ill will/deeds and useless non needs can lead to a covert cancer covered man-nipulates meanlip measures of misgotten memories factly misered measured mandates. Welcome my friends to the drone that never ends, human race, human race; youngins' all youngins' all.
Categories:
ill gotten, analogy, angst, anxiety, culture,
Form:
Free verse
Oh, Land of the Free
You have presumptuously deemed yourself the mouthpiece and policy maker
Of the world
How overconfident
How impudent
Who makes you...
Oh, King of impertinence
Regulators of the human race...
The monarch of the agitated sea
Who are you to dictate MY household’s wishes?
As with the Roman Empire, your greed and moral deficiency IS your destruction
Your sins are hidden behind plaster, ramshackle, and termite-infested walls
You sit on your throne of deprecated morality
You twist your neck and roil your head in an idiomatic cistern of ethics
Oh, how those merchants whom seek shelter under your fiscal confidence...
Will wail and rip their outer garments, as they witness your
great
Collapse
Nevertheless, just like men whom seeks the warmth of a harlot’s bosom
They will easily turn their face to the next woman of ill-gotten gains
Categories:
ill gotten, allegory, history, mystery, philosophy,
Form:
Elegy
Will no one or nothing
Relieve us of these pseudomen, these shadows
Who suck away prosperity
As leaves draw sunlight,
Leaving all the rest of us
Ashiver in the shade of their ill-gotten millions?
They roam their aerumnous way among us,
The tendrils of their green
Winding chaotically around everything
Until finally they strangle off themselves.
Then it's a cry to the overworked groundskeepers,
Of "Save Us! For we are too Great to be allowed to perish!"
Well, were it up to me,
There'd be some serious weeding going on,
Come Spring.
Categories:
ill gotten, political, social,
Form:
Free verse