Best Looter Poems
The queen of hearts
She made some tarts
Because she had no suitor
The knave of hearts
He stole the tarts
Because he was a looter
He took them all
And left the ball
Going at a run
The queen she cried
The knave had lied
What did I see in the bum?
Categories:
looter, love hurts,
Form:
Rhyme
It’s skin deep evident,
being black is an inherent crime
It doesn’t matter whether we
peacefully
stand our ground,
or be siren subservient —
Hands in the air,
knees bent
We get shot seven times,
by a six-shooter
In the back of our mind,
fear is a pride looter
Epidermal evidence suggests,
probable cause is
five fingers of uniform blue grave danger
A click gavel falls trigger quick,
siren verdict be: 1st degree fatal anger
It’s just another casket open-and-shut case,
the latest obituary picture
bearing eyewitness of Breonna Taylor’s face
Like chalk on a blackboard,
we get erased ...
so rap sheet easily
Four-by-for centuries,
our coffin pleas
have been iron fetter ignored
The only asphalt sound
silently heard
are the yellow tape trace words:
“I can’t breathe,”
with our George Floyd face
in the paved dirt
Epidermal evidence historically reveal:
We always got shot seven times,
by a six-shooter
Skin color hatred smoking barrel explode
on a trigger reload
Being black was our genetic crime
Wanting the good life
on the whiter side
of the picket fence
Made former slave cotton-picking sense
Our emancipated thoughts
were escaped equality sought
But votes auction bought,
forced us to tragically be
paddy wagon pellet caught
And when suffrage hope died,
it was our fault —
Runaway tears shed for naught!
Morgue blame sent:
Usual suspect motives be
dreams non-violent
Desiring to be integrated legally
into American society
was our heinous offense
No need for more epidermal evidence
It’s just another cell open-and-shut case,
the latest unarmed picture
bearing eyewitness of Jacob Blake’s face
We repeatedly
get shot seven times,
by a six-shooter
Seems the lawlessness of the land says:
The badge can be
judge, jury
and executioner
Ain’t it blatant epidermal evident,
being black is an egregious, breathable offense
Of which there is no self-defense
We get shot seven times,
by a six-shooter
Perpetrator exit wombs inflicted on
menace to society ghetto we
Aborted justice is our
perforated epidermal eulogy
Being black is a natural-born crime,
evidentiary,
an umbilical sin
It’ll get you pandemic shot seven times,
by a sick, sick six-shooter
Categories:
looter, grief, perspective, truth, violence,
Form:
Elegy
The sky starts where is the end of the city
Indeed, the villages are growing into cities
Riding the colourful balloons,
country is now really flying !
The picture of a surprising world,
is also really looking nice
Law and protection in one hand
and on the other, the values
will be stabbed in one night
Is there any hero who can fight !
There is the devil and
deep blue sea is also there, right
Looter, splendor, alliance, votes and notes
You can see all of them but you are acting
as if sleeping and do not wake up again
You are not a 'Z' category that before you fall
you will know when it stumbles and where
Always change the colour like a lizard
and you will learn how to mimic and
what is called an adaptation craft
Communication speed will be faster
but parents will be disconnected for ever
Only a few days are left ...
The villages will grow into cities !
Categories:
looter, anger, community, corruption, evil,
Form:
Free verse
A lofty lurking predator on the prowl alone
Very reclusive and passionate prone
Not up for a long chase
Rather give a short powered race
Very territorial especially with mates
Touch my babies the savage will embrace
Just like a wildcat preferably a cougar
Best times to move at dawn and dusk just like a looter
Call me the noble savage or the lady cougar
Get off wrong then I will be the shooter
Since I'm a lady I'll slash you like Freddy Krueger
Categories:
looter, introspection, life, passion, people,
Form:
Rhyme
I often accuse my computer
Of being a sanity looter.
If someone has seen
Bullet holes on the screen
I'd admit it, 'cause I'd be the shooter!
Categories:
looter, funny,
Form:
Limerick
The first derriere shot,
that killed everyone’s appetite,
came from a second-rate,
light tipping looter
A no-class hothead bum,
who had bun fiddy no-good burger
burglar instincts
Amateur night out
introduced a new bottom bang-bang
beatnik on the back end drum —
A queasy gut alley cat
addicted to
the sugar:
white powdered yum-yum
Twitchy turned into a bad olfactory rat,
when he got glutty on the job ...
and belly forgot to pack his Tums
Intestinal spastic shock
sent the masked night hooter
crooning outhouse slop jar
bullet belch serenades:
Involuntary gastro scattershots
First person pooter,
behind-the-back six-grunt shooter
Separating good friends and loved ones
from their paid ambience indulgence
First person pooter,
fast sphincter sewer hole Roto-rooter
Giving fatal flatulent body shots:
a culinary coroner table experience —
Breath held, back bent ... restroom sent
Unfiltered air
on a cadaver nose, dead zone blast
Collecting all fine dining tips,
with a rancid mist that withers grass
Amateur Rooti-toot Tooter
got a bad air attitude
Graduated last
in How-to-be-a-Crook class
Now he’s Number One Most Wanted
First person pooter
Cold dish crook with blazing cheek guns —
He’s such a quick draw
backdoor shooter
Categories:
looter, allusion, fun, humor, imagery,
Form:
Burlesque
1. Aztecs-black sun. The eternity of souls.
2. Five stages of an eclipse.
3.Total eclipse-3 minutes. Deep twilight.
4. The moon has a temporary crown (corona) that celebrates its victory.
5. Viewed from predestined location
6. A fated portent by the ancients.
7. A natural phenonoma in the present.
8. Next in north and South America, also Pacific in July 2019
Looter Eclipse
When darkness turns the day to night
The triumphant moon bedecks its glittery crown
Feeding upon the ancients fear of doom and gloom
Their dread of harvests wrecked with troubled soul
A daytime moon that mocked their sacrificial rites
With cursed prediction for ill fated times ahead
Punished by the idols of the time
For some iniquitous crime to languish in dire Hades
Secured the time and place of modern solar eclipse
The throng awaits with polymer shades adorned
Amid a gleeful buzz of expectation
To view the phenomena of sun obscured
And loyally watch its five stages
When day becomes a dusky shade
In matter of fact observation
Ill portents dismissed and banished
They see the crown upon its lunar head
But not the sneak thief upon the ground
Who rifles pockets, loots their bags
The eclipse’s glory takes its place
And he escapes with all their booty
In portended fate of dire acclaim
Categories:
looter, sun,
Form:
Blank verse
EMI LO KAN (It's My Turn)
What is "Emi lo kan"?
It is a selfish assertion,
It connotes one's right,
the selfishness that makes a man
put himself first before his nation.
To put one's ambition and personal interest
ahead of that of the common good...
It's adherence to individuality
rather than positive collectivity.
Do we take TURNS where power is SHARED?
Emi lo kan (It's my turn).
I am next in line!
Whether credible or not credible,
Whether accepted or not accepted
Whether by hook or by crook
Whether by sweat or by blood
Whether by money or by influence
Whether by threat or by manipulations.
Whether by tricks or gimmicks.
Do we accept SELECTION instead of ELECTION?
Emi lo kan (It's my turn)
Herald the voice of a dictator,
The tone of a tyrant.
The song of an enforcer.
The power of a Political wizard.
The declaration of a looter
The audacity of a principality.
But hell has no fury like a woman(hueman) scorned
And the stance of a frustrated masses.
Why should we accept DAMNATION instead of SALVATION?
Mr Emi Lo Kan, its not your damn turn!!
It's our turn (the people) to possess a new Naija????
Vick Manuel Poetry {VMP}
Copyright ©? 1st March, 2023.
Categories:
looter, 1st grade, satire,
Form:
Dramatic Verse
Sleepiness
There alone before
my computer
Fighting the sleep
that creeps like
looter
My brain is
sluggish,lids are
dragging
Against my eyeball
that rolls like a
marble..
I poke the keyboard
My fingers sometimes
miss and slip
It takes a few seconds
to punch the next
quip
As I am about to
start, my eyes close
their own
Again I am in a
limbo, swirling into
the unknown
Suddenly, I open my
lids and find
my hands on the
waiting keyboard
Squinting my heavy
eyes to find the
words
I end up typing the
wrong chord
My thoughts are like
winding road
Focus is the least I
could load
Oh, I need to finish
this piece, I said
Or else I forget,
what I've read
But my eyes can't
connect
What my mind
recollects
Finally my body
slumps over the
board
And I surrender
To a triumphant
slumber...
Categories:
looter, sleep
Form:
Rhyme
Nick parked his sleigh and uses a scooter,
on roofs he looks more like an intruder;
he forgot how he got there,
stands on the roof in despair;
in the end Nick wanders like a looter.
__________________________
November 24, 2019
Poetry/Limerick/Santa Is Getting Old
Copyright Protected, ID 19-1202-024-02
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Submitted to the contest, Holiday Themed Limerick
sponsor, Tania Kitchin
Third Place
Categories:
looter, christmas,
Form:
Limerick
Refrain from playing the looter
Or the parasite who takes
But always remain a builder
And known as one who makes
Yes build your life, proud and true
This is the Bitcoin way
Though looters claim we owe them
As Ayn Rand used to say
The looters count on Atlas…
That he’ll hold the world in place
But one day he will simply shrug
And the world will fall through space
Stand a maker, not a looter
Though the looters grow in size
Yes, swear by your love of life
That looting you’ll despise
Resist the urge for easy life
Prove strong as a woman or man
For either you’re a looter
Or you build everything you can
Our hands work and our minds conceive
And freely with others we trade
And let’s convert some looters
And end the looting charade
Categories:
looter, freedom, work,
Form:
Rhyme
Horn I Always Has Haiku Humor
When Trump stepped off curb,
Do not bother him or disturb,
As well as perturb.
Session by session,
Trump will make poor impression;
Does use deception,
At us stares and stares
While out you always wears,
When up or down stairs.
Trump is undressing.
Others will be impressing;
All his sins stressing.
Out sins poured and poured;
Trump had been told by our Lord,
History was restored.
Trump is a looter;
Ignorance needs a tutor.
Never straight shooter.
Trump does have an urge,
Be loser while being skirge,
As President must purge.
Trump is hard to bare;
A loser beyond compare;
Steels more than fair share.
Had looked at big board;
History had been restored;
Trump did bring on discord.
At us stares and stares;
For anyone Trump never cares';
Spent all of our fair shares.
Trump talks and rambles;
Not sure and always gambles;
Left us in shambles.
Trump last of liter;
Always has become bitter;
Needs baby sitter.
In sun, Trump does bask;
Refuses to wear his mask;
Even when we ask.
Trump does day by day,
Always leads our souls astray;
For sins he must pay.
Like last one the best.
Jim Horn
Categories:
looter, allegory, analogy,
Form:
Haiku
GOEBBELS, PROPAGANDA TECHNIQUES, USA StYLE
He may be dead but his methods in practice
today.
The media, TV, and social, censored in every
way.
All spew Leftist philosophy,night and day.
Let's not forget Hollywood, the newspapers
even Netflix, too.
We, the truth uniformed, truth-starved, human
zoo!
Even in our sports the snake of censorship has
had its way.
Team names changed to placate political correctness,
it must have its say!
I am for rioting but only on Zoom!
Using Hollywood sets, let them all go Kaboom!
The honest, the non-criminals, they get hauled
off to jail.
Like that asthmatic mother, manhandled by the
police and she was quite frail.
Watching a football game was her
crime!
Oh, excuse me, she is an asthmatic and cannot
wear a mask at anytime.
You can be a conscious less looter in the USA,
an illegal immigrant, kill police or be a sex
deviant, too.
But God-fearing, patriotic freedom loving,
Americans, sorry, the hatred is all against you!
Best we pray, we don't become a socialist nation!
All bets are off, we will then be a twin, to that
hideous, Venezuelan pitiful sensation.
" A lie once told remains a lie.
But a lie told a thousand times
becomes the truth."
Joseph Goebbels
September 29, 2020
2:30 pm PST
Categories:
looter, america, perspective, truth,
Form:
Couplet
Trump With Small Chubby Hands
Trump is unattractive with no appeal;
Claps chubby small hands like a seal;
Pompous and plump;
Of fat, a big clump;
You must bow down before and kneel.
Jim Horn
Trump On A Scooter
While Trump rode on a scooter,
He had come across a computer;
Quite confused,
And misused;
Did program as detective looking for a looter.
Jim Horn
it be when Jesus said what,
Again and again you in would butt;
A big boss;
Died on cross;
Told me to keep my big mouth shut.
Jim Horn
As turkey table gathered around,
Our hearts had started to pound;
When delayed,
Was dismayed;
Both drumsticks could not found.
Jim Horn
Categories:
looter, allegory, analogy,
Form:
Limerick
Trump On A Scooter
While Trump rode on a scooter,
He had come across a computer;
Quite confused,
And misused;
A detective looking for a looter.
Jim Horn
Categories:
looter, allegory, analogy,
Form:
Limerick