Best Jailing Poems


Premium Member Glass Winged Dreams

I tried to fly without white wings
I cried inside with soul dying
Broken spirit broken dreams
Can you hear it my black heart screams

I was asleep and yet awake
Nightmares so deep they escape
The well in me the hell in me
Tormented spirits keep jailing me

I hide my heart in my shoe
Like it is money or gold’s fool
I walk around limping in pain
For I hate sun and love the rain 

For sun makes clear all shadows
I’d disappear like a haunted ghost
Ever so near to holy hope
Depression is weird like me you know

Glassy eyes from teal tears fried
My heart broken my insides tied
Into burnt knots of mahogany
Lost in thought my glassy wings

Is There Anything Left You Can Trust

In these perplexing days, I look around and lying seems to be the norm a political storm with high officials who cannot solve the nation's debt.yet *********** is protected by law. Safe places for investments are rare. Does anyone care? Our justice system is no longer just. Nations at war over spiritual lust. Families, friends, the ones who claim your trust are people who often hurt you the worst, so badly it makes clean lips want to curse. terrible plague of deadly diseases. Fornication these to abortion, adultery is a scandal that leads to family's broken in calamities. Moral degeneracy need to a decline of spirituality. refusing to abstain from drugs and alcohol has brought untold woes to billions, this wicked epidemic is jailing people each day in the millions. our schools are teaching our children how to have sex outside marriage, rather than teaching them how to get into college. I know you have heard the saying " What you don't know won't hurt you" when the reality is what you don't know will harm you. Because ignorance is expensive. Wars have been started because of lies, and people have fought on the side of fools who don't know the truth. At the expense of lost live, families torn apart, money that funds these wars, and anger, revenge on the lips of those who lost hope in God.

Aman
© Joy Payne  Create an image from this poem.

Enemies of the Peace

Enemies of the peace
Are not consecrating the life
Tampering with the nature
Crucifying the childhood
On the sidewalks
Burying the chastity
In the brothels
Killing the light
Before coming the dark

Enemies of the peace
Adoring the wars
Kissing the poverty
Dreaming with the famines
Clapping for catastrophes
Destroying everything
Schools
Hospitals
Synagogues
Churches
Mosques
Temples

Enemies of the peace
They want to uproot feelings
To extinguish the flaming longing
In the hearts
And burn the growing yearning
In depths of humans

Enemies of the peace
Robbing the dreams
Jailing the tears
Deforming the colors
Crushing the flowers
Turning off the hope

Enemies of the peace
Not knowing the love
Not appreciating the values
Not believing in the peace .....................


Raid On Aids

RAID ON AIDS

 

Methuselah’s age, wisdom produce

Longevity a dream comes true

Humanity, cuts a perfect picture

Our existence, evolved in pleasure

A good life, mortals must treasure

Be very shrewd, to mark a measure

Riotous life, concludes your closure

By a dove’s wisdom, uphold a future.

 

 

Productivity groans in decline

Man’s extinction draws its line

A universal pandemic, in every clime

Reckless mortals, faintly holds to time

Time ticking, the end is bleak

Many a robust dream fades in a leak

Can we then pitch a niche at the peak?

A many vision with hearts, it breaks

The very raid, is coming from aids

A careless lay, you are sealed with aids

Jailing the libido, then be spared the raid

 

 

Raid on aids

Not just an African affair

With a universal sense, all must be fair

This fight involves, plenty conscious pair

The rampaging aids is not a friend

Yes! Viciously a means to an end

Let’s unleash a raid on aids,

Indeed the monstrous aid is on the raid

 

 

The aids raid may put up a scare

Raid on aids, let’s charge in offense

A surprise attack, it beats a retreat

Raiding the monster, will save our world

A whole new world free from its raid

Moral adherence, tames this beast

Abstinence pairing fidelity makes the champion

Be very smart, guarding your loins club.

One casual adventure, will perhaps seal your fate

 

 

I dare, but ask?

Should we raid the aids?

Who can dare its geometric raid?

Aids indeed, deserves the raid

For humanity sake, lets put paid on the aids

An all out war against the aids

A raid on aids, will aid the world

 

 

Raid the aids, only not on the pages

Actors war better on stage

Let’s wear rage,

And confine it, to its cages

So humanity will leave through the ages.

 

 

 

A  dedication to humanity’s global fight against the deadly scourge,  AIDS,

 

Author: the Holy Spirit.

              Felix Joseph Osaeghemede

             [email protected];

             +2348037825027.

 

Written: 1/12/2007, 10:45am – 2:10pm

Premium Member Wake Up America

Transmogrify the sensationalist
An astute ableism of absolution and idiocy
Divine demeaning meanings demoralizing democracy
Through persuasive procrastination and promiscuity
Festering fragmented feelings forgiven for failing
Jailing juveniles jealously just for jokes
Writing worrisome wit without witnesses to worry
Original orange and ornate operations
While whittling away wisdom in the White House
Tear apart traditionalism and tribalism
Innocent eyes are protuberant eyes
Observing awful atrocities at times absently

Transmogrify the sensationalist
That sensationalist is now president
Sitting on a throne of falsities and blatant lies
Reject form and comprehension of standardized realities
Garnish lies with a touch of fear
And it's gourmet for the uneducated
Saunter and swagger through scandal
All the while destroying those who granted you platform
Normal is abnormal and abnormal is normal
Forget saving the system we must destroy it
And build it back up from scratch
IT'S TIME TO WAKE UP AMERICA

WAKE UP!

WAKE UP!

WAKE UP!

WAKE UP! 

Transmogrify the sensationalist
And even the devil blushes

Transmogrify the sensationalist
By waking up America

WAKE UP!

WAKE UP!

WAKE UP!

WAKE UP!

It's time to wake up, America!

Premium Member Thru Maritime Miles 5-Danger On the High Seas

In spite of the choice that I made to be wed
The call of the sea was the voice in my head
The wreck of a ship that I bought on a dare
Was ripe for a trip with a little repair

I gathered a crew from the worst of the lot
The pirates I knew in the way I was taught
A bunch of old sailors who fought with a sword
In search of a ship and a captain aboard

We packed a few things and the men were alright
To fish on the strings of the stars overnight
The King's Royal Navy was somewhere in port
And we were the kind who they hunted for sport

The evening was cool with a touch of the breeze
Which filled up our sails and pushed us with ease
No ships were in sight as we set our own course
To conquer the night with the lightest of force

Then one of the men who I thought was the best
Was searching the sea from the top of his nest
When suddenly something he knew that we feared
Was captured by him in the flag that appeared

He knew that our ship was designed as a hoax
For scaring young sailors and female folks
He called to his mates who were cautiously sick
To think that the Navy was on to our trick

The wind in our sails was hardly a storm
And somewhere the fog was beginning to form
The danger we sighted decreased in the mist
Perhaps they decided to cease and desist

But just when the danger was seemingly past
The King's Royal Navy appeared with a blast
They fired their cannons and blew us to bits
My ship was disabled by too many hits

I thought to surrender by all that I saw
But why was the Admiral so quick on the draw? 
And what was the purpose in jailing my crew
When they were just sailing with nothing to do? 

We stood by and watched as the Navy approached
I felt like an egg that was already poached
When something upsetting appeared in my scope
That caused me to cry and to give up my hope

The devil's own daughter who did as she willed
Was holding the head of the man that she killed
She captured his ship and the hearts of his men
To come after me and to kill me again

But when she was near with the navy in tow
To capture my ship and to lay me a blow
She did not foresee what so few can survive
My good friend the whale had swallowed her live!


Voluntary Blind

Voluntary blind
I can tell you why, if you want to know
I can show you how, if you are willing to try
I can teach you easily, If you decide to become responsible
It is not easy, but anyone can try
I see them, but feel nothing
Touching them, but have no call
Watching them moving, but I am like sleeping
If you ask me why, my kids’ future is in my mind
They are prettier than mine, but don't have my attention
Better educated and have to offer, they force me to act
But my heart is far away and my feeling is jailing
I am a voluntary blind to save my marriage
I want to save it for my kids’ future
I am engaging with God to be there for them
As he was killed to save my soul
I am voluntary handcuffed
To not using my hands because they can put me in trouble
I keep my eyes, voice, hand, knowledge, and body freezing
To save my promise to the one that I love
I am a voluntary blind to manly live not use

Fighting the Embrace

We have taken up arms
Against what has been rejected
Inoculated ideology
To prevent perfection from being infected

All energies focused on creating
A world promised, yet not attained
Hiding sins and transgressions
By jailing the saints

Cycle after cycle set to repeat
Medal adhered, firmly, to the feet

Ride on, brother and sister
....ride on
But try to make it count
Reason every season
Walk the talk
To reveal what LIFE is all about

Outside, in depth
Everywhere you go
Exposing or hiding
Someone will always know
....secrets

It is the fear of what will be
That holds the power of what we see
...as true
Perception of self, destroyed
Identity, armed and deployed
...as worthless

So tired of the fight
Just wanting to be known, in life
Fully embraced and accepted
Judgment pulls the lure
Invites and adjures
To idealize the perfected

....idol

Written by Trudy Schrader on 03-04-2023

Premium Member White Knuckle


                                   Destined to repeat 
                          yet another jailing to the hot rail
                                    trip to an off-sale 
                            on one last hunt for the grail

                                Booze from the gallery
                            drowning in a desperate plea
                              unchanged as Mr. Derange
                              stitches up a web for thee
© Tidy Desk  Create an image from this poem.

Writer's Block

As if someone put a lock on my brain
jailing my thoughts and words
caught by the guards trying to escape
prolonging their stay
Stuck behind bars of mental scars
confined to their cell 
taunted by numbers and equations 
being feed letters and punctuation 
through open slots in metal doors
Written by Keith Edward Baucum aka The 
Brown Philosopher aka The Green Poet 
aka Red Seven

The Thief's Offering

The police are everywhere
And barracks are empty, 
I see military fatigue, locusts
I see firearms that can make the devil blush
I see the MK 18 mod 1 carbine whose libido is famed abroad
I see the Glock 17 Semi-automatic Pistol which shoots from the hip before you blink
I see the Mossberg 500 shot gun, if it kills you, you die
Another M2 Browning .50 caliber heavy machine gun, held by the fed
The AK 47, whose history is grave
And many bloodstained weapons
They have come to arrest the chicken thief
He stole it, killed it, cooked it, exhibit!
They will hand him over, in tatters
The judge will be jailing
The Warden will be waiting 
The radio will be reading
The Minister means
Security this time

Tell me, I pray
What will the thief offer the paid-up police, like the governors do?
What will the thief offer the tired judge, to kill the grudge like the Directors do?
What will the thief offer the curious editor, to kill the story like the Chiefs do?
What will the thief offer the giant warden, to spare the rod like the Managers do?
What will the thief offer the Minister, to look away like the Ministers do?
The Police are everywhere
The thief will offer
The cooked Chicken
To the Police today

Writing With a Blue Pen

Writing with a blue pen
Want to write
 but I don't know 
What words to use
In describing brutality
I bleed with a deep pain
From a seen of wickedness
How can they
 beat up my sister like dat
For no reason
They claim to be soldier
Of cos soldier of shame
Treating a mother
like a slave
I swear not to hate
But not with this 
I glow in anger 
As I write 
Who is you that have a right 
To dear touch a woman 
Coward oh fool
Just becos you wear a kaki jacket 
Makes you feel, superior
And above all other people
Oh fool of no sence
I wish I can beat you till coma
I wish you were never born
You do what ever evil that suite you 
to the people
Blowing, kicking, flogging,
Above all jailing for no reason
I know the day 
you where born 
Was curse
And if you fail to change
You will die so curse
Here you see
 is better you where not born.



Note
I saw my sister brutally beaten up, by soldier for nothing,
The brutality of police and army soldier in Africa got to stop.
That is the motive of this writing.

Premium Member The Wife

Her wings are sublime, fluttering about, 
From blue to an indigo plum,
Filling her world with a delicate shade, 
Filling the void with her hum,

Then she lands on her perch, her small wooden perch, 
She sits with an unblinking gaze,
And looks to the world that she could’ve loved, 
To the forests and beaches and waves,

But her mirror tells the story to her every day, 
Her mirror shows the maid she became,
With the cage in her head jailing this bird, 
Imprisoning her will and her name,

And nobody knows she’s a beautiful bird, 
Locked up for the rest of her life,
To everyone she’s the tame predictable one, 
The mother, the maid, she’s the wife.



Written for Silent Ones contest "One last tear". Written and published on 4th February 2019.
Ranked 2nd

Premium Member Childhood Nostalgia

could not sleep at night 
thrilled to wake and play around 
in and out of rooms
as though gems hidden and found
nights merriment resurrected
smiles laughs howls screams shouts and yells 

star gaze in summer
recounting and accounting 
quilt nights of winter
licking fresh dew drops of spring
butterfly watching catching

picnics to stations
filled with hills and mountain range
playing on meadows
plucking all barred flowers strange 
when caught hid behind mother

gathering sea shells 
banking them as though gold coins
counting them daily 
adding them into bead-joins 
wearing like a clown

playing police-thief  
arresting little culprits 
acting like jailing 
taking them to hill summits 
to shoot them there from

cries to go to school
coming back happy and thrilled 
hating to read books
running out to play joy-filled 
coming back ready to sleep

countless memories 
how much I could go on with?
I should now cut short
I express only herewith 
longing to re-live them all


18 August 2022
Childhood Nostalgia Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: JCB Brul

No One To Say

No one to say
captivity
brutal torture 
starvation 
forced civilization
abuse 
manipulation
evil impurities
calamities
are an existence in our reality
nowadays
yet their is 
no one to say 

no one to say 
depression
anxiety
murders and murderers
lies 
wars 
riots 
destruction 
corruption
killings 
exploitation
this is our reality 
in the third world
yet their is 
no one to say 

no one to say 
Intimidation
evil authorities
stealing
money laundry
gun shots 
assassination
unjustified jailing 
inflation 
poverty
discrimination
isolation
is all we get after 
our political election
is true yet their is
no one to say

no one to say 
child abuse 
drug addiction
the homeless 
illiterate
jungle justice
frustration
confusion
pollution
illness's
disease
is the reality in our
poor community 
called the ghetto 
is hard to bear
yet their is 
no one to say 

no one to say 
I wonder why 
the lips of the son
and daughters of africa
remain silent 
I ask an old wise man 
why this silence
he was silent too
but walked me up
to a large grave yard 
then he point 
to the grave 
starring into my eyes 
saying 
those why have a say 
was soon cut off 
of life 
if you say the truth 
you will have your 
part on one of this 
grave 
so I realise 
the fear of life
was the author 
of the silence 
no wonder 
despite the humiliation
yet their is still
no one to say

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