Best Misdemeanor Poems
you were larger than life
love maker
norm breaker
praise taker
soul shaker
what happened to you?
epic embodied were you
every word: a spell, a hue
made make believe come true
ancient lore, you made new
heart happenings you drew
what happened to you?
thoughts thundering line on line
a mix of ordinary slash divine
transforming tedious to sublime
redefining reason and rhyme
what happened to you?
did your creative flow go slow?
is there more to it than you show?
heart lost where quill cannot go
heaven birthed now caged below
what happened to you?
Break the silent soliliquy
share stream of thoughts with me
give the words written mastery
remember reigning history
Victory was your entity
what happened to you?
Write! let your soul grind
crush out that apathetic bind
leave your misdemeanor behind
mistakes aren't seen by the blind
love makes enemies kind
forget you're confined
find the poems hiding in your mind
what happened to you?
explore, soar, and then pour
that essence of your soul, more
better even than before
so much you have in store
poetry galore!
what happened to you?
Oh...WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU?
your quill is now still
yet I'm here for refill
succumb to your skill
feed this ache, use the quill
let the genius spill
I need that thrill
what happened to you?
Listen,
Don't let what happened to you
be this silence, this adieu!
MISDEMEANOR
A soft lisp runs through blonde summer grasses,
shoving at kites or the hems of long skirts.
Umbrellas and hats stir as it passes,
jumbling at picnics, it teases and flirts.
It picks up speed while playing with Marty,
and takes his land legs as he tries to walk.
The unseen source can raid a yacht party,
by strewing boats that are moored to the dock.
Laughing in whispers or screaming in storms,
a mythical being, felt but not seen.
Its guests are blind to the brail it performs,
it can be gentle, or just as well, mean.
Wickedly hurling a house in the air,
or docile enough to tousle our hair.
-Edlynn Nau
© May 21, 2018
Is science an everchanging paradigm
akin to poetry’s everchanging rhyme
interpreted by those who never write
yet keep a dark thesaurus out of sight
and so when I place paper beneath pen
I seldom rate the outcome “lose or win”.
One breakthrough gave the surgeons laughing fits
when told, “between your cutting - wash your mitts”
as poets play the game of “almost rhymes”
comparing it to misdemeanor crimes
not punishable with a failing grade
a shallow grave filled in without a spade.
As poets who doctor soul with wit
ramble on and don’t know when to quit
science will not learn the lessons taught
folded within the dust of crumpled thought.
John G. Lawless
8/13/2021
The News: Lack of Love
We couldn’t read the news, nor decode a word
Nor the cries and prayers among the relics of hearts
I didn’t understand why freedom couldn’t taste Albanian
I couldn’t believe that we started hurting animals
And I committed suicide because I believed, wanted to breath
Me, or…repeatedly my shadow, or someone else
Those, I gave a hand and received poison and bullets; rusty words and iron
We were killing; bloody hands remained above the hell of love
Letters and verses torture unstoppable dormant conscience
The kind of people who soaked homeland, faith and soul of forefathers
Bloody infant of tears that don’t dry squirms yet today
And we remain orphans of love on the roads of the world
I don’t want to believe in animalistic nation that suffers from misdemeanor offenses
And, I don’t know why I hang myself through the pathetic hope of remake
What kind of damnation sucks the tired pieces of motherland cells?!
On behalf of who would be said my self-hanging, if there still exists tomorrow!
Pause of self-hanging through the national romanticism is like a homeland without love
Man, only fragile fiction of broken dream as ancient mosaic,
Oh, I need a pause to inhale tobacco smoke,
To not believe that we are hurting animals, oh my Lord...!
“I CAN’T BREATHE!
Ya got my arm twisted
I have six kids
A wife I need.
Man I can’t breathe!
Get your knee out my back,
No reason for me being attack
On a New York street.
I CAN’T BREATHE.
How was I bothering you officer
I’m just a misdemeanor offender.
I sell cigarettes on streets
Cheap,
I’m not some murderer,
And this calls for being
Strangled and battered.
I’m asthmatic, hear the wheeeze,
Your Illegal choke hold
Is crushing my throat
Say man, I can’t breathe.
You twisting
My neck man QUIT THIS ****.
Doing number two
In my pants
WHAT DID I DO TO YOU
To cause all this?
I CAN’T BREATHE,
Don’t mean to be belligerent
But you’re killing me with your knees.
Hope nobody sees me like this,
A grown man spitting spit
As you cops make me piss
And they not hearing me.
Feels like drowning slowly,
My skin scrapping off on the ground,
Images fading now.
EMTs milling around shaking me,
No heartbeat.
My mother begs me to follow her
And I believe
She knows what’s best for me.
But all will remember
Me, Eric Garner’s
Final plea,
I can’t breathe” .
I bailed my honest friend out of the tank
Who dressed up as a hotdog for a prank
It’s not a misdemeanor
To dress up as a wiener
I see no harm in trying to be frank
Once upon a time, I used to be you.
In my misdemeanor I fell out of your love.
Now you are quick to judge, but you don't know me.
In your silence, you wish me away.
Invoking ancient curses, praying I stray.
Tiny streams of tears roll down my prematurely withered cheeks.
Tattered clothes I salvage from dumpsters
Days gone by since I had a meal
Even longer since I saw the inside of a bathroom
Am I a son of the Land?
Will you show me any kind?
My grief resounds no mercy
I am, but one, in a land of many
O! lethal fate, pangs of anguish and strife
Here, I lay holding on to dear life
Once I had it all, I was homed
Nature's calamity left me doomed
A past so rosy, full of kind
Trapped in the deep embers of my mind
I walk the streets without a clue
This place of love; never true
Ah! what crime!
Wicked, is the wheel of time.
I have embraced misfortune
And felt the smile of pain
Your pity, I seek not,
Nor your assets.
Rather A consummation fervently wished
That you see me not with those Eyes of Repugnance.
For Once upon a time, I used to be you.
DEADLY SIN- LIE
SALIGIA,
Or the seven deadly Sins,
Covers all the probabilities
Of peccadilloes,
That could be committed by the HUMANITY.
Lust
glows up within a man
It is like a sentiment
that can not be brought under control
It can make a rich man a refugee,
Because this sin deprives him of his mores and morals,
And makes him do all the wrongs,
Just to fulfill his desires.
Pride
We all have two faces,
We cover our real image, cover our wounds
Not admitting the pockmarks in our character,
We always keep our real emotions incarcerated
And show the world a conceited face,
Forgetting our hard days.
We assassinate out fears,
And show as if we are the winners of all the races.
Greed
IT develops like a voracious thirst
It creeps like a climber,
Ingests all our emotions
demolishing us from the inside
The want seems to be endless,
Just like wanting a sunrise during a sunset.
Envy
It is like a bane that shrivels us
IT is like a sweet poison that never makes us start the race,
We keep our focus on some other person,
Diminishing our own soul
When we put every thought under rest,
It is too late,
And we never can achieve the wanted position.
Gluttony
Its intake seems endless,
Makes our mind more materialistic,
When we suffer from it,
Everything seems fantastic,
When we realize that
What it has really done to us,
NO one but we are dejected.
Sloth
The body throws out all the energy,
The anesthetizing decline
Converts into redundancy,
That leads us to reverie,
We never try to uplift our position,
Rather we choose to mix ourselves with the ground,
To become a person never ever to be found.
Anger
It rises slowly in our body,
Bubbling our minds
Most of the time the reason is
Incomprehensible
Emotions gone with the wind,
Control converted into ash and dust,
We lose hope, life has no reason
We are into disloyalty and sheer treason.
But then,
All of this consists of one common
Misdemeanor,
That is – Lie and false hood,
It is more than these 7 sins,
It is above all the wrongdoings,
It leads to one sin, to another,
Leading a man to decay
And sentiments to be smothered.
There once was a congressman named Weiner
Suspected of exposing his 'wiener'
Of course he claimed no knowledge
Oh yeah! Claimed girl in college
He could be charged with a misdemeanor
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
The irony of dissension
that failing path's ingress
that module with its faction
that moment of duress.
That falling out of practice
that holiness to test
is subsequent by number
a follow up's digest!
The blessing of my venture
the years of common stress
are subsequent indenture
a follow up as less!
I do my greatest censure
but fall apart at best
some new love must take measure
that may be worn to rest!
This strata called intention
has spent, but still finds crest
to move my small invention
into a worthiness!
How blessed with directness
my ideas prove express,
while that one misdemeanor
is always subsequent!
I INVENT! SINCE THE 60's FINDING MY STRATA. LOOKING AT THE SMALL ROUND TIRES IN A GAS N COFFEE SHOP. A JOB IN BETWEEN! I THOUGHT THEY SHOULD BE FLAT AND WIDE, THE RIMS THAT IS. I WENT INTO THE MANAGER AND TOLD HIM TO WRITE HIS COMPANY (SUN OIL) AND TELL THEM. I DREW OUT THE IDEA. HE SAID "YOU'RE MAKING MISTAKES AT THE COUNTER, COUNTING MONEY, AND FIRED ME" I WALKED OUT THINKING, YOU COULD HAVE BEEN A MILLIONAIRE! WHAT HAPPENED AFTER THAT IS CASE HISTORY! INVENTONS AND INVENTORS BECAME MY APPAREL, AND MET SOME OF THE MOST CONTRIBUTING PERSONS OF THIS CENTURY. AND WANT TO WRITE A BOOK!
*Authors note: Be prepared for the inappropriate use of a fork. (Shelter your children.) Proper and Improper soup matters and manners are explored. Legal interpretations and fears surrounding the viewing of and consumption of soup are lightly touched on and on display for the shock value, pleasure, entertainment and amusement of all. (The author here is lobbying for the use of spoons...as well he should.)
I Hate Soup
I hate soup!
No I don't
I love soup
Get your story straight
We are going before the judge today
He or she is probably judgmental
If they hate you more than the soup
I don't know what They'll do
If they love soup you can only pray for leniency
Claim insanity
It is only a lost day in court
Stay away from name brands before the law
Keep it simple
It is safer not to say Campbell's
Lipton is forbidden
You are being charged with complicity
Watching a full fledged felony in action
In broad day light is more than a misdemeanor
Someone dared to eat, to slurp their soup in public
Sipping it in plain view is a capital offense
On top of that a fork was used
Why oh why did you dine at the Greasy Spoon
What bad timing… What bad news
Now you have to pay
Soup crimes are severe in the light of day
Penalties for watching are much more graver
Not reporting it is simply crazy
I hate soup
I love soup
It does not matter
I'm being sued
I am a broken man,
Life's terrain ain't fair to this man,
For serenity I yearn,
As I struggle to live and earn.
I am a broken man,
Struggles been with me to learn,
I make a lot of mistakes,
And I have lost many stakes.
I am a broken man,
I am conflicted human,
I have bottled a lot of treasure,
All in the search of worldly pleasure.
Brokenness has been my portion,
As I lose all the jubilation,
That's comes with celebration,
Culminating marriage bliss in the station.
Brokenness is my tag,
I carry it along with honour,
As in the case of a war of tug,
It has been my major misdemeanor.
I am profusely broken,
My choices are all broken,
I leave everyone else broken,
It is a case of all Brokenness.
Near me, do not come,
I am far from being handsome,
And I will make our relation troublesome,
I am broken, and I will give you some.
They say a stitch in time saves nine,
Mine has been bleeding since nine,
I am not able to keep anything feminine,
As I always carry this tag of mine.
I am wallowing from brokenness to brokenness,
I am the epitome of numbness,
When it comes to those who are heartless,
I got broken from time to timeless.
My story is now out here,
I embody everything you hear,
Because brokenness leads to fear,
And I never wanna live in fear.
Addiction began as recreational adventure
Meandered into misdemeanor or slow suicide
Incorrectly blamed substance as offender
Neither love nor deep down agony contender
Sickness of mind, body and soul collide
Many experience a moment of clarification
Or honest evaluation enough to recover on
Relapse a symptom not a failure situation
Willingness is a key recovery indication
Sweet surrender - paradoxical phenomenon
Apr 19, 2018
Rhyme Time 2 Contest
By Laura Loo
Theme - Sweet Surrender - Two Stanzas
Rhyme - ABAAB CDCCD
Second Place
The hunger within
She spoiled herself with fame and insecurity
But when its stripped its empty.
No its not promiscuity.
Its a lackthereof.
The list goes on
For men of meantime shelters
For boys of tussled sheets and misdemeanor
Even when she’s not looking, it comes to her
Guilt is her misfire. Regret’s her token
Being sought after a crooked star
She has not become amassed
A beautiful broken thing with a destructive nature
Dear Woman, nobody’s ever in favor.
The new things she chased..
Kept her running back home with another broken piece
It will never fit. It Never heals
She is out of control. Never had a heart of steel.
She is lost but still wandering.
She looks for her when she has always been herself all along.
Now she wakes up gazing.
She have grasp acceptance, fear and life
Then she will go on... and start again.
I feel I simply must profess, your efforts to capture me of great success,
Is all for naught, I volunteered,
You imagined a cloud I sit, like a child’s ignorant daydream,
When in truth my presence is beyond what could be feared.
I’ll play this game, my reputation now smeared,
But I am judge, jury, and executioner.
When night falls you fail to see it as my shadow,
Like venting emotions to an insect, but I’ll try,
Your family’s fate was written long before I inherited you,
You cry “murderer” and point soiled fingers to the sky.
Pouring blacktop over lush fields and still wondering why,
Your thoughts are far from prioritized.
My words translate short and unsympathetic, but I assure you,
This will be nothing more than a misdemeanor,
Take solace in your dreams, which I have provided to you in full,
No longer will I view this, in the final act I play intervenor.
The less you spawn the more this world is cleaner.
I swore to tell the truth, and nothing but. The defense rests.