Best Scot Free Poems
Masha Amini was an Iranian woman who was kept captive in jail for clamoring for Women’s Rights. Later she died in police custody under suspicious circumstances. Her death led to widespread civil unrest and protests. This is in the voice of Masha/ Civil uprising in Iran-Year, 2022
What crime did I do to deserve this?
To be brutally beaten and imprisoned?
When rapists, rogues and robbers roam scot-free
What crime did I do to deserve this persecution?
I am a woman of self-respect and dignity
I believe man and woman have equal rights
I wish to see my sisters walk in dignity
I can’t but rebel against all man-made manacles,
That bind a woman’s hands and legs,
Putting shackles on her mind, and body.
My mind revolts when we can’t walk free.
So offensive it is to cover our heads with hijab
And wrap ourselves in several folds of linen.
I feel it a blatant denial of human rights.
I am sure the unreasonable restrictions imposed,
Will smother and cripple the fair sex.
I am allegedly arrested and am now in prison bars,
For violating and disrespecting Iran’s ‘Modesty code’
The fanatics dream that with my death,
The clamor for freedom will die down.
I am sure it will only blaze fierce in future days,
Thousands will join, holding hands,
Pledging their solidarity for a common cause,
Drawing inspiration from me and women like me.
Again, our shrieks for freedom,
Can never be stifled or silenced.
In cloistered darkness, I wait,
Hoping to witness a bright sunrise.
I always believed
at some point in time
due to some hidden
moral rhythm and rhyme...
a word triggered memory
would rob you
of that tranquility
that you've wrapped
around yourself
tightly
leaving no room
for truth to touch
and remind you
of the pain I still feel
the pain you won't heal
I always believed
you'd finally come around
with no fanfare
no whisper of sound
I'd feel your presence and know
some inner longing for amends
baptized by remembered virtue
had brought you to me
and the pain would turn to glee
when I'd hear your words:
"Let all be well.
Come out from that hell"
Well...
I'm still waiting
cause the hardest lesson
I've had to learn
is that people can maim and blame
do their utmost to shame
and....have no remorse
leaving one with no recourse
with no conscience to appease
they do as they please
while psychopaths are locked up
serial killers face their dues
but serial tongue lashers
serenity crashers
get to walk away scot-free
makes no sense to me
you see...
I always believed
one day...
you'd finally
feel the need
you'd want to be freed
from the memory of wrong
and you'd finally be strong
strong enough
to ask forgiveness
of
me
am I a fool to believe?
Eileen Manassian
His voice the hiss of serpents,
he acknowledged the pact unmade,
but now he was here to tell him
how the debt would be repaid.
"All your sons, and all their sons,"
the devil's eyes glowed red,
"will perish while still very young,
yes, all of them, cold and dead."
With that, the devil vanished,
not long after, Joseph died,
and Jack, now the eldest,
found his career on the rise.
He married a well-bred woman,
she made a beautiful bride,
but their first-born child, a son,
very quickly died.
But how the public loved him,
the White House was Camelot,
but Satan hadn't forgotten,
and guided Oswald's shot.
Next in line was Bobby,
and he soon, too, was slain,
now Edward became paranoid,
though justified, ashamed.
Edward wasn't pleased with God,
the curse of his surname,
he knew someone would kill him,
if only for the fame.
And, one day, those fateful words
slipped through his lips as well,
the devil appeared as a gent,
and with a pact to sell.
Now, Edward was not evil,
but perhaps a little weak,
vehemently he refused, at first,
but Satan continued to speak.
The devil knew his weak spots,
affirmed he'd soon be dead,
then offered an alternative,
made up of hope and dread.
"You will live a long and worthwhile life,
and your children will live, too,
but in exchange for these gifts,
there are two things you must do:
You must find a young and innocent girl
and give her soul to me.
You, alone, must take her life,
but you'll escape scot-free.
The other thing you must give me
is your most passionate dream,
that is, to become president,"
the devil's smile obscene.
Well, Chappaquiddick happened,
and he got off scot-free,
I think he tried to be the best,
most honorable he could be.
But Satan keeps his promises,
and John-John's plane went down,
and now the pact is finished,
for there's no more left around.
©Danielle White
3/6/15
Where an everlasting breeze exists
Across the trees and cliffs
It was just me and a ship
Lost at sea adrift
I didn't really need a wish
Because I believed in gifts
As I continued to feed the fish
While remembering to plead the fifth
I wondered if I was really gone, would I ever be missed
No matter how choppy
The waters got I would not let it stop me
Even though the shores were always rocky
And it would be rather difficult to get out scot free
It was no time to be sloppy
So after several cups of coffee
I no longer felt like a zombie
And left when it was foggy
Even though to some it would've been kamikaze
I made it and took a moment to celebrate at a palm tree
Then when I was home, I copied
The answers to life on a floppy
While others were bragging and boasting about a bugatti
I hit them with the force of a tsunami
Got to hold it together, try to keep my cool,
Even when dealing, with imbecilic fools,
Should know better, but they freak me out,
When in the wrong, they just scream and shout,
My problem is, I won’t back down,
Especially if right, and dealing with clowns,
Should I be the one, to hold my tongue,
Guess it all stems, from when I was young,
Always had to, stand up for myself,
Show any weakness, get beaten up, no help,
That’s my dilemma, remains with me today,
I’m wiser now, still can’t turn the other way,
Hold your ground, never let bullies off, scot-free,
Face them down, no good cowards, you’ll see,
Only seek easy targets, to punch below the belt,
Fight back hard you Lion, watch their bravado melt.
By
David Kavanagh
How could You
See my pain
Include me in the
Great Exhange
How could You
Relate to me
Bring me in then
Set me free
Real love
Real love.
How could you
Believe in me
Touch the eyes
So I can see
How could you
Live within
Now everyday
This begins,
Real love
Real love.
A real love that hopes all things
Never fails, believes all things
Never asks what it can't give
Real love
Real love.
Words and Music by Peter Hall.
Copyright Scot free music.
A braver man than I once said,
He feared for my eternal soul!
Courage from my heart has fled,
As I see I'm growing old!
A wiser man might speculate,
That the aged are buffoons!
But stupid here might contemplate,
That the end is coming soon!
Eternal flames that lick my flesh,
Is the fairest price to pay?
Of course, redemption, could be on the cards,
If I pray and pray all day!
Stand up the man whose innocent,
And cast the first hard stone.
My god who is omnipotent,
Will strike him down at home!
An aging man is better off,
To plead insanity.
You never gave me any proof,
So I’ll get away Scot free!
There are many road that lead to hell,
but there is a peculiar one
that will surely get you there as well
Route 666
It's not on any road map,
can't be found by no G.P.S.
Could be located anywhere,
it's the devil's own private road of death
Takes two things to get put on this evil highway:
you had to have done something real bad
that caused lives to be lost,
but you got the blame put on someone else
That's requirement number one,
your crime being paid by an innocent
The other thing is, you had to have
stolen a car in order to escape future justice
Trying to flee into anonymity
But in gaining possession of the vehicle,
you take the life of the occupant(s) thereof
Thus, the second requirement is met,
you just doubled down in dealing out death
Route 666
The wheels are now in motion,
ladies and gentlemen, please place your bet
Will you make it to a safe haven,
and get away clean with the dirty deeds
Or will you find some gruesome way to die,
while evading capture in your stolen motorized steed
You don't yet know it,
but the race for your soul is on
The odds of you making it scot free,
well honestly, are impossibly long
At the edge of this haunted highway
is a lodge called Last Chance Motel
Get one last meal and a bad night sleep,
then go drive down that soulless stretch like a bat into hell
Route 666
The fastest road to hell
Many a bad hombre dragged this strip,
trying to avoid life sentence in a cell
Today is the day
the devil's gonna get his kicks
Before the night is over,
your sins are gonna catch up with you black cat quick
Route 666
Highway to hell
Has you burning rubber
to elude going to jail
Your bad luck to steal a car
whose steering gets shaky over sixty
Flipped you like a burnt burger,
another fiery death is what the devil relishes to see
Some luckless soul just passed your car,
seen it smoldering in a ditch
They pressed the pedal to the metal,
but outrunning the devil is a ...
I Slept with a Female Mosquito
(part III)
Honorable Adjudicators.
How did she enter? Anopheles!
Oblivious, she trailed me?
To my chamber, stalker – to my bed, bawdy
Sneaked in my quilt
Skirting –
The radar of my eye
The aerials of my ear
And the tax of my hand
So, she, at the dead of the hour
Far from the clock
Infesting, invest in –
My ears, my lip, my neck, what pleasure!
How did she? I long – how long did I entertain her.
In my still time, comatose slumber; torpor.
I scrutinize the net; intact – tight, that night.
Edge to edge, head to head, end to end
There were no moles. The net, bridal new.
Anopheles! And you think I will let you go?
Scot free! Unpunished! Shame!
Part of my bloody pint in her.
A Permanent Secretary
IF EVER I HAD A COUNTRY : LXII - LXIII
LXII
If ever I had a country with streets under graffiti
And if ever I were the Minister of Transport who travels about for free
I'd give a free ride to the Minister of Justice Home Secretary and the Chief Executice - yes, all three
To this township run by the waxworks looked-up to Caïd son of a refugee
To watch how I paint every allée rue boulevard and avenue with zebra-crossings down on my knee
To remind the Police the Pompiers de Paris politicos and motorists that the speed limit on the stripes is under thirty
That is, if ever I were the Minister of Transport who travels about doing nothing for free
And even if I nerver ever had no country with no streets under graffiti
LXIII
IF ever I had a country with streets under graffiti
And if ever I were put in-charge of the traffic by the Transport Secretary
I'd tell the World that no-where else in the Universe(s) a migrant Tunisian speeding motorist can toss up and knock down an octogenarian pedestrian and get off scot-free
That is on a zebra-crossing at the entrance to a primary school right under a speed-limit signpost marked in red " 30 " thirty
Where the victim's heart shocked into arhythmic beat coped with cranial trauma multiple head-to-toe wounds fracture writhed in pain in the thick of winter in over an hour and a half's agony
First denied and later delayed for years Police and Fire-Brigade reports minimise the octogenarian's condition as a mere inconsequential injury
That is, if ever I were put in-charge of the traffic in this lawless over-migrant-run township territory
And even if I never ever had no country with no streets under graffiti
© T. Wignesan - Paris, September 7, 2018
"How sweet to the heart are the scenes of my childhood"
Samuel Woodworth, 1785-1842
MY HUDSON VALLEY CHILDHOOD
Mother dropped us — we’ve no fear of attack,
shopping in Poughkeepsie, when it was clean.
Teens buy nail polish —hers blue, mine lilac.
Feathered-Farrah hair, wear bell-bottom jeans.*
No call waiting, phones attached to the wall.
Sans social media, not very mean.
Prom in auditorium — had a ball.
Wore wedding-white, back then I was scot-free.
I declared prophecy before my fall.**
Burgeoning sights and sounds —poetic me
adored rainstorms, the way the branches bend
at the onset when wind frazzles shade trees.
Perched in maple with my neighborhood friends,
riding my bicycle all around town —
sunny and cloudy days breathlessly spend.
Memory swinging at village playground.
My Hudson Valley’s a luscious hometown.
11/23/2020
Contest: Terza Rima Form
Sponsor: Constance La France
*Farrah Fawcett, Charlie’s Angels’ fame, 1970’s hairstyle
**Before I fell in love. I wore that same dress when I got married. I had said to my mother, “This would make a nice wedding dress.” I married just a few months after I joined the Navy. Had no idea I would find a husband or wear this dress when I got married. LOL...so young.
THE DIE IS CAST
“I See,” said a blind man to his deaf Spouse, emphatically
I hear the S-rhetoric She replied Sarcastically
The symptoms and signs of Stagnation
The Syndrome of intermittent Systems and Structures
Signing and later whining or wining
Structural adjustment and subsidies
The insatiable appetite for Sausages and Swine
Speculation and Smart Partnerships Scenarios
Synergies, Song of Science, Strategies, Solutions all Send Shivers down my Spine
Stock exchange and Streamlining just Sentimental
What with Solo driving, Sole proprietorship of Strings of businesses
As the faith of the Servicemen wavers, the Sales are reportedly Staggering
A Slump they call it but there’s Something Sinister
Swing into action to Subjugate these Saboteurs?
My Spirit faints But rejoice oh my Soul
Share the Spoil of the Wicked, Shillings and Swiss Francs or $ollars
If they call this Scathing, what is Stealing?
Smelling, a Stench!
Servant leaders, Surge forward to foil this Sunlight melancholy
For a calm Sea never made a good Swimmer
Study the Science of the Soil and the oil
When funds are Squandered
Guillotine the Small witty cashiers, the sardines
A Sacrifice of sorts, Scape goating and Summary Sentencing
“Where are the big bully Signatories, the Sharks”, a Senior Citizen asks?
Scot free, in Singapore in another Symposium
And who will Sub-due the enemy? Where are the species of valour, women of virtue?
Behold the Son of David, Save us!
Saviour, open your eyes and See, take our Prayer Seriously
With You on our Side we can Salvage the Situation and Scale walls
A young friendly hippopotamus
lived by the river, across from us
Then one day five hunters came
Looking to shoot big easy game.
*
They put five bullets in his head
And now our friendly hippos dead
They should bow heads in shame
The lodge will never be the same.
*
To kill that beast a heinous crime
They should do some prison time
The rangers came arrested three
But two hunters escaped scot free
*
They ran into the bush to hide
Walked straight into a lion pride
They paid a price, they did offend
'Cos Karma got them in the end.
Written 11th November 2020.
Where were you when i lived on gunshots and teargas,
When the violence intensified and put fear on us,
When the police brutality coasted me a friend and my face,
When the eviction notice saw me part ways with my place,
Now that you are all suits and tie,
You ask for my vote and leave me to die,
Internally displaced in own motherland,
Why should i flee while the perpetrators walk Scot free,
Have the culprits been brought to hand,
Those who had us bath in our blood in the killing spree,
Now that you are all suits and tie,
You ask for my vote and leave me to die,
You promised me free education,
But the tax you demand is like buying a nation,
And what of the infrastructure you promised us,
you wouldn't know when you are always flying above us,
Now that you are all suits and tie,
You ask for my vote and leave me to die,
You bought my trust last time and fled,
And being a fool i trusted you and bled,
Fighting for you to have a better life than mine,
But now that you have it, to me you are busy,
Now that you are all suits and tie,
You ask for my vote and leave me to die,
I know about you now, Mr. Politician,
You beg me then pull a fast one like a magician,
Ive seen you transform from 'Hope' to 'Hopeless',
It's my time now, for you i care less,
Now that you are all suits and tie,
You ask for my vote and leave me to die,
When I got up, it sucked
I just felt just like a Zombie
So I walked to Starbucks
and I got a sweetened Grande
The people were crowding me
as I walked to the 7-11
I bought a pack of smokes
First one tastes like Heaven
I was chilling and sipping my coffee in the park
The homeless appeared, eyeing my cup
Fresh from the bridge where they slept at dark
I started to get up when one said "what's up"
"Well", I said, "I was thinking of going to town"
"You got an extra smoke", he said
God helped me as I passed them around
Memories of my own warm bed
I offered them some money for food
to eat something or to feed their dogs
He said "we all get enough dude"
Could I spring for a box of fire logs!
What was I to say to them to now?
I quickly handed over a Twenty
Walked away Scot free, unbound
I felt like life meant something that Sunday