Best Misdemeanours Poems
O dear Lord, let my thoughts fly upwards,
For we have sinned abominably against you,
And never bothered to think of You.
We raised false idols of our own making:
The gods of power, money, and lust.
Our corruption goes so deep,
That we realize too late
How very much unhappy we are.
Thus, our old temples crumble
Like the golden one of Jerusalem.
Yet there is always hope for the future.
The trees of Lebanon will grow strong again.
The evil serpent will be bound in irons
And thrown to the depths of Hades.
But we cannot achieve this without your help.
Forgive our heinous misdemeanours, Lord
And allow us to enter your new abode
The heavenly New Jerusalem.
And please forgive our many sins
As we forgive those that sin against us.
Amen.
Categories:
misdemeanours, prayer,
Form:
Free verse
When all our tomorrows have faded away
And memories gather around
When shadows are long and the shades hide decay
When stillness is swallowing sound
Still we’ll have no idea where we are bound
And still we won’t know what to say
As we ready ourselves to go into the ground
All worry let go and resolved
All misdemeanours and onus absolved
At the top of the circle the end of the line
Seeing the face of the moon has revolved
And altered the measure of time
Thine is the Kingdom, the power and the glory
Mine is a twist and a line in a story
Categories:
misdemeanours, death, faith, peace,
Form:
Sonnet
I recall it was just the other day
Featured in the daily for which we pay
Your blown-up photo splashed across
The front page for all to gloss
Your background and your virtues extolled
For your wedding bells were soon to toll
With a king-in-waiting as the groom
You would wilt or you would bloom
For marriage makes or marriage breaks
And happiness, it gives or takes.
Demure and with dimpled smile
With an innocent heart, free of guile
The press was exuberant, so were we
You were the most charming in the royal family.
Welcomed all across the globe
The royal couple widely roved
Ambassadors of all things good
Displaying virtues like royalty would
You touched hearts wherever you went
Concern and compassion were your strength.
You were blessed in due course
With two sons that God had chose
Then differences with the prince surfaced
And you lost face, where you once graced
And while your marriage began to flounder
Your man, the prince continued to blunder
On the treacherous rocks of marital infidelity
You were shattered – your happiness was the casualty.
You decided to go your separate ways
Those were also the wishes of the palace
The trauma of separation was sheer hell
The ways of royalty were beginning to tell.
Now, hordes of newsmen invaded your privacy
In your land and beyond, you became a refugee
The air was also rife with rumours
Of liaisons and friendships and misdemeanours
Your saddest day though, was the divorce
Of you, whose touch was like the kiss of a rose.
And alone, sweet Princess, you forged along
Your grace, in adversity, inspired many a song
Of worthy causes, you were still a crusader
And you remained ever, a loving mother.
It is said, you had found love at last
And the leech like lensmen went wild with thirst
For photos which augment tabloid sales
They chased you in cars and astride motorcycles.
For you, a Parisian tunnel was the end of the road
You didn’t reap in life, what you had sowed
And while your life ebbed within the wreck
The paparazzi zoomed in, to make hay off the break
Your blood-spattered close-ups drove them to frenzy
As you lay helpless, unattended and in agony.
And later in the night, mercifully all was darkness
The world woke to a tragedy caused by sheer madness
Categories:
misdemeanours, tribute,
Form:
Narrative
The world has discovered it's coveted holy grail
To Jules Rimet we honour let the football feast set sail.
Countries unite and teams take flight to a designated host nation
Little kids feed off this passion they tune-in with eager motivation.
Anticipation even before any ball is kicked or flicked
Back pages with fake news has our minds playing tricks.
Will he start will he not toys yanked from the cot
What's more at least we are entertained somewhat.
It takes us away from the 9-5 the same old mundane
Propels us into a four year galaxy the game beautifully insane.
From the old to the young the whole world will celebrate
Sole-stomping satisfaction our diverse planet will vibrate.
There will be scandals, errors, misdemeanours all documented
There will amazing goals, tricks, bad refereeing decisions all commentated.
What a beautiful notion thought of by that man Mr. Rimet
Implanting the WC in our lives from 1930 to present day.
Categories:
misdemeanours, appreciation, celebration, community, football,
Form:
Couplet
Home is Where
Home is where
your first and lost loves linger
the scent of Cusson’s Imperial Leather
and lavender, like a silken scarf
curls and twines around your head,
her marshmallow touch,
teasing your memory.
Home is where
fresh baked bread and apple pie,
jams and jellies, all cooling
in the afternoon’s mellow light,
greet you coming there
when school is out
and saffron yellow butter melts
on a fresh cut welcome scone
Home is where
dreams are born
waking in the morning sun,
fresh and frisky,
brimming with light and hope,
unfettered by failure,
treachery or disappointment,
ripe and blooming with possibility.
Home is where
memories fragment,
like packing boxes,
broken, confused,
their contents lost
while you search for a thought,
a hook to hang a hat.
Home is where,
past follies, misdemeanours
and careless adventures
echo down the streets and lanes,
tip tap in your footsteps,
flit through the shadows,
in the corners, out of sight,
in your mind’s eye.
Home is where
brooding menace waits,
the bogeymen of childhood terror,
with menacing patience
until childhood play abates,
there, in the shadow under the bed
and behind the wardrobe door,
slightly ajar.
Home is where
the slap of tiny feet
on a kitchen floor,
telling you home
is where you’re happy,
but there’s no notch on your compass
to point you there.
Categories:
misdemeanours, growing up, home, memory,
Form:
Free verse
Why was my whole special school life,
An interpretation of nature and school?
A philosophical contemplation and analysis,
A freeway inquiry into the education tool.
Because the god concept was lain out,
On the household table, delicately spread,
I was sharp at social phenomenon,
Even as a primary child was not off my head.
When I journeyed down the corridors,
Slowly, because of my disability,
I was more often than not on my own,
‘Cos the others would show off their mobility.
So I thought about the politics,
Of the special school and our integration right,
Our need of ramps and disabled toilets,
The importance of everybody’s mindset height.
I classed the whole organisational structure as wrong,
For using the carers as playtime supervisors,
‘Cos in my old nursery school the teachers contravened,
In any tit-for-tat playground misdemeanours.
The teachers knew us in the classroom,
So adjudicated fairly and with respect,
Were able to administer justice,
Wherever there was a point of regret.
The carers were just not on my level,
And you had to do what they said,
Which overshadowed my whole experience,
Which made me much see red.
It was believed that the carers had a light on,
Because they scribed for us in maths,
But your profession level sets your reception,
Of high-flyers’ stares and laughs.
I mean, I didn’t ever laugh at them,
For their low rank and position,
But that just meant they never put me with,
My parents speech and religion.
But I considered myself determined philosophically,
Not in the free-will line of thought camp,
And just needed a man, board or committee,
To rejuvenate myself and amp.
So I often spoke with the school doctor,
The boss of the cliques and staff,
But the other pupils resented it,
Laughing at my physical prospects, chaff.
When your life does not go right,
Insist, if you can, on calling the shots,
Make appointments with the gods,
And beam with importance watts.
Categories:
misdemeanours, caregiving, jobs, leadership, philosophy,
Form:
Rhyme
It is time to grieve a cop has died
Son to a mother, darling father to a child
Leaving kin behind and many more
Claimed by the force to have been beaten to pulp by a mob seeking gore
An honest cop fell of which there are a few
But it wasn't the cop that the movement slew
The lie is contested by those present, who saw
The ugly face stands exposed of the upholders of law
They tried to twist facts to make a point
In our country even post mortem reports can be purloined
Claims made by the force are inconsistent so far
The cop wasn't battered but it was the chief’s attempt to tar
Civil society and a spontaneous movement by far
He succumbed to cardiac arrest and possibly the atrocities he witnessed that day
Taken care of by civil society who sought assistance for his medical care
Humanity grieves whenever a life is lost
Foolish decisions by foolish men and look who’s paid the cost
There will be an inquiry, a routine government demand
But in this age of vendetta politics, the state will likely seek an innocent's remand
So vitiated is the administration’s vision today
For a cop’s death a political adversary will have to pay
But in that ill fated time there was only one villain in the fray
The rest were civil society gathered near Raisina Hill that day
Policemen on duty who had donned their uniform
Forgot the law and the oath they had sworn
Striking citizens in chilly December with water cannons and batons
They have to learn policing anew from more civilized nations
The collateral damage the chief spoke of like some Bollywood goon
Has exposed him for what he is – our national buffoon
Listen governments past and present
It is time the Augean stables were cleansed
If the freedom guaranteed by our founding fathers is not assured today
If the birthright of security that a woman needs is trivialized and frittered away
Lest ye forget the girl’s condition hasn't improved and remains critical
Time to introspect and delve into a mindset, still medieval
A handy tool to cover misdemeanours and serving well your political ends
Who turn on their masters and subvert truths for your petty gains
You in Government remember we are a billion or more
Our votes count – come 2014 and election day, you’ll be shown the door
Categories:
misdemeanours, angst, death, time, political,
Form:
Narrative
F aceless is the connivance of our deadly foe
A llegiance to our Saviour is the way to go
I mmutable services of great magnitude
T rust in holy teachings shall not be misconstrued
H abitual desire brings us to our knees
I mmeasureable lifetime soul courses for trainees
S purious thoughts and emotions deter progress
A tonement for misdemeanours, less we regress
P atrick, an alcoholic, forgot how to pray
O bedience to his true faith dissolved away
W alking through Central Park to his own detriment
E mbodiment entity of evil descent
R ose up before Patrick with purposeful intent
F ascinated he approached his deadly demise
U plifting his face to see his assailant's eyes
L andscape of verdant grasses, bright bluest of skies
T emperate climate, with many birds to enthrall
H ow, why, where could he be? Perhaps, dreaming it all
I mage of Jesus formed, as he heard his name call
N umbed by anaesthetic, he vowed to live again
G lorifying his Saviour for a life regained
Categories:
misdemeanours, christian, faith, forgiveness, heaven,
Form:
Acrostic
I’m not a Teenager,
I’m Human,
Sometimes,
Parents think I’m an alien,
Strange language,
Textual misdemeanours,
Designed to confuse, bemuse,
Abhorrent behaviour,
Perpetual beautification,
It’s just a phase.
Maybe.
Categories:
misdemeanours, child, childhood, children, i
Form:
Standing still is certainly not an option
Ignorance of technology expect corruption,
Guarantee your safety, protect your identity
Never divulge passwords, just think security,
Over decades so many changes, some good
Fascinating inventions saying that we should,
Take responsibility for our actions, be prepared
Hackers, thieves so intelligent information shared
Encryption of all actions anything online declared,
Transmitting your personal thoughts, feelings
Inscription on social media could send us reeling
Misdemeanours unfortunately are a sign of the times
Eliminate risk of heart ache through serious crimes,
Secure information, keep safe, prevent any stealing.
4/27/2018
Contest sign of the times
Sponsored by John Hamilton.
Categories:
misdemeanours, identity, internet, technology, today,
Form:
Acrostic
They keep watching
Forever observing
Constantly snooping
As the public keeps on fuming
For our safety we are watched constantly
Electronic eyes unable to account
For the nuances of human behaviour
Infiltrate all aspects of living
Criminalizing us
Laying bare all our sins
Intrusive watchmen abound
Debasing all ideas of privacy
Our misdemeanours forever present in cyberspace
We can never repent nor forget
What should be hidden and laid to rest
Our liberty is easily seduced from us
With the promise of big brother's
Constant all seeing
And comforting eyes
His broad shoulders will forever
Protect us from the ghost of an unknown future
All this is just a palaver
The all intrusive camera on every street
Replaces the curtain twitching busy bodies
Of yesterday
We are always naked
Baring all to a hidden authoritarian
Who wants to eat away at our soul
The value of protection today
Is a necessary cost ever present in our mind-set
We must have no peace in these turbulent times
The attraction of emotional safety
Trumps petty squabbles over rights
Fear of terrorism
Results in ego trips from those in authority
Them who wish to bolster their popularity
By smothering us with hysterical flam
That we so gratefully believe
Anxiety rules the day
And will always keep common sense at bay
No one wants to loudly stand up and say
Please stop looking and go the hell away
A totalitarian philosophy permeates authority
The aim is to control every aspect of living
They are forever craving servitude
From us who think their intrusion is so rude
Being watched and analysed
Does not only happen in a totalitarian state
Everywhere you go liberty
Is at stake
Who will save us from this disgrace?
Categories:
misdemeanours, political, rights,
Form:
Free verse
IF EVER I HAD A COUNTRY - LXXXI - 81
IF ever I had a country, a country without even a single Shredding Machine
And if ever I were elected/nominated/appointed by the powers that be SPEAKER of the Lower House of Parliament whose power to shine however were to be curtailed by the Upper House’s sheen
A country where all laws were enacted without much heed to the rhyme nor reason of the Bard’s Stratford-upon-Avon’s mellifluous flow of theme
Where every legal analyst: Professor of law Attorney-at-Law entertained his or her own opinion as to what the Laws of the State: relating to the Chief Executive, Rules and Regulations of Proceedings in or out of officialdom: libels, torts, crimes, misdemeanours or even what the Constitution may mean
And if ever any elected official or foreign dignitary were to be invited or chose to invite himself whether by rights or not to address the House and read from a
« tele-prompter » or printed text that was obviously Ghost-written, I’d shred the Speech with my front-teeth and unkempt nails and jump up and down with glee as though I were dancing the polka on the printed pages as they most certainly blatantly comport ideas, words and expressions of some heinous GHOST come to tease, torture, detract, confound, contradict and condemn all that is decent in the human being which is not mean
And all this, so be it, I swear before the populace I can never be GUILTY of breaking the LAW should I shred the words of some GHOST who lies, distorts, turns on head some or all the TRUTHS held to be sacred in my Nation’s History since no ghost may rightfully sue me (Sleep tight, Peach of a Teach !) for having even stolen a measly red, yellow or green pea, pod or bean
And this, even if I were to be put through the piranha jaws of the Republic’s Shredding-Immigration-Machine
Even if I never ever had no country worthy of being shredded and pulverized in the Wall of Black Holes’s grinding-machine
(c) T. Wignesan, Paris, February 8, 2020
Categories:
misdemeanours, america, humor, leadership, political,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
Sleepy thoughts loiter,
Dreamy images disappear...
Sun stabs sudden focus.
Subconscious thoughts come
Abrupt as light streams,
No time to think.
Senses aware one by one:
Like octopus tentacles
Twisting and curling to touch.
Edgy promontory here:
Eyes scan the cityscape fringes,
Twenty-storey window view
Far below the tiny people,
Busy with busyness,
Little rushing marionettes.
If they could see this puppet
Rising with drowsy countenance,
A curly smile will attend amusement.
Anyhow my simple heart
Prays a blessing for each stranger
Plunging into life's misdemeanours.
Awake and aware once again,
This new day beckons impatiently,
Sunbeams pave the way.
With humble thanksgiving,
Look forward to a blur quest,
Explore forthcoming murmurings.
Mind comes to know a field
Beyond the tragic wrong
And the dramatic right.
A certain field where play presides,
Where all can meet fond ecstasy
With rapture and delight.
Here fear and guilt and regret
Are purged from conscious thought,
Here feelings find sure innocence.
Once more, a wholeness comes
To bind each part as one:
Thus, each soul feels unique yet reconciled.
Yes, discovery greets mystery,
If you learn to discern
The perfect symmetry of life.
Even the inanimate life
In rocks and stones and hills
Salute the sacred gospel divine.
Look beyond the chaos
To sure goodness of wise nature,
See the face of God who lives and loves.
There is a certain harmony
Beyond science and religion:
The cosmos live in grace and beauty.
Leon Enriquez
15 September 2014
Singapore
Categories:
misdemeanours, blessing,
Form:
Free verse
A funny thing happened on the way to the market
I arrived in my Porsche, there was no where to park it
So I circled the village; and parked it in a side road
When I returned an hour later, my car was being towed!
I asked the traffic warden whatever was the matter
She said there’s no tax disc, boy that warden did natter
I said what planet are you on, you are so behind the times
Tax discs are not compulsory, and I’ve committed no crimes
She said I also saw you were parked on double yellow lines
And for those misdemeanours you’ll be getting huge fines
I said madam I have to totally disagree with you
There are no yellow lines, nor red white or blue
May I urgently suggest you arrange a sight test
and return my Porsche as I’m getting quite stressed
She admitted needing glasses , she had done so for years
And she then burst out crying - I had to mop up her tears
A phone call was made; my car was towed back to me
I drove the warden to Specsavers, then went home for my tea
A funny thing happened on ... Contest
Sponsored by Robert Haigh
6/25/18
Categories:
misdemeanours, car, conflict, humorous,
Form:
Couplet
Today I spied my shadow,
And I asked it to dance.
Once it would have taken the challenge.
Once, when I was young.
Where are the memories of yesteryear?
Dissipated with the passage of time?
Today I'm bent with arthritic pain,
result of all my past heinous sins:
a hunchback of misdemeanours.
O how I recollect my wicked deeds!
They echo in the dark corridors
of a bent tired mind.
Now I dance to the tune
I composed throughout my life;
But my shadow simply refuses
to join in the frolic of my low strife.
Ashamed I amble on life's highway....
towards my eventual demise.
Then my shadow will find eternal its rest.
fiction
Categories:
misdemeanours, life,
Form:
Free verse