Conman Poems | Examples

House of Lies

I see a fire burning
the flames are getting high
The smoke is getting stronger
it’s spreading with each lie

The GOP’s on fire
there’s chaos everywhere 
The party known for hatred
is deep in their despair 

They chose a dirty conman 
a traitor and a thief 
To lead their party forward 
their Commander and their Chief

But now they’re in a tizzy
and don’t know what to do
The Epstein File’s on fire
and they’re in a poison brew

Because their leader’s dirty
he’s really just a con
A grifter in his circles
known as Dirty Diaper Don

And so they’re holding meetings 
forging answers to the whys
Because the fire’s burning 
in the House they built on lies

The Charlatan

From the time that his two lips are parted
every comment is colored with lies
Every thought is a fantasy version
he creates to respond to the whys

He’s a conman in search of a swindle
intellectually clueless and crude
Riding high on his racist agenda
oozing out with each diatribe spewed

He is angry and jealous and petty
he’s a privileged product of greed
Cheating everyone, everywhere, always 
never paying for any misdeeds 

Posting nonsense in capital letters
mocked by leaders who laugh at each tweet
Every smile he receives has two faces
as they plan, secretly, for a meet

MAGA Deep

They idolize a villain with no integrity.
A conman void of honor and filled with misery.

A man who cares for no one, each sentence ends with me.
For this, the MAGA cult, will give-up sweet democracy.

Uneducated, ignorant, they’ll reap all that they sow.
A life without the Courts and laws they all have come to know.

The weapons which they cherish would be a memory.
The Constitution and Amendments, gone with history.

‘Free Speech’ would be forbidden, for only tyrants speak.
The free Press would be silenced, our future, sad and bleak.

They take for granted freedoms they’ve had since they were born.
To honor a false idol who lives inside his storm.

And that which made them human is somehow sadly gone. 
No empathy or sympathy, just angry MAGA pawns.

Now some are on a mission for a cure to this disease.
To date, it is elusive, like the wind inside the trees.

most Effective Weapon Against Trump

The most effective weapon
Against Donald Trump
Is to mock him.

Calling him 
The biggest loser
The biggest conman
Of them all.

And senile 
Washed old dotard
Way past his sell 
By date.

In My Life Time

In my entire life,
the worst things to come
upon me,
has come at the,
hands of respectable
people, who call themselves
good.

It has not been,
scary men, in dark shadows.
It has not been,
those people, across the sea.
It has not been,
the conman, stealing my soul.

It has been,
men and their wives,
who own businesses,
and lands,
and courts,
and governments,
and religions,
too.

It has been petty tyrants,
desiring to be kings,
making life hard for those,
 just trying to get
by.

It has been Leaders,
 who claim to stand,
against evil men.

But, what about rulers,
who destroy families
with the stroke of a
pen?
What about those men?

Everyday it’s something new.
Everyday, it’s some new rule,
created for those who obey.

Everyday the fear mongers,
work to sell a new law,
to those, they will betray.

When will it end?
When will our time be done?
When will the rich man weep,
while the worker has his fun?
How long, till we all can rest?
How long till we all can sit,
and watch the sun set?
How long till we all can live,
that long lazy dream?

Will it be in my life time?
Will it ever happen for me?

Dot To Dot

If you spot a dot you must stop,
for this marks the spot.
How can this one speck of ink,
pinpoint your time at the end?
Then you move to another,
waiting to see another dot.
Some get confused by,
a question mark and want to stop.
while a parenthesis is,
yelling for your eyes to see.
As conman will divert your thought,
as does a complicated word,
you stop without a dot, wondering. 
As the mind calculates and calibrates,
you want to stop but, there is no dot.
So, you keep reading until,

The End

(Not For Contest, i ran out of Dots)

Tricked By His Tomfoolery

His sophistry made sense to the hillbillies who were listening
They ran out and told it as if it was gospel
Because to them, it was
They had no idea he was a conman.
They thought he was an honest man,
but alas, they were tricked by his tomfoolery.

Copyright

I made a bargain at the crossroads 
With that conman we all know.
He might think he’s sealed the deal,
But he’ll never get to spirit me below.
For when he comes to claim his prize
At the fading of the final light,
He’ll find a book of poems 
Where my soul used to be, 
And I’d made no deal 
To sell the copyright.

THIS SPACE RESERVED FOR
OLD NICK

Fat City Kitty Cat

In Gentilly she reigns as Bastet, the daughter of Ra,
An unrepentant drop of golden sun. 
Then come some rascal Baphomet, an outcast by law,
A desperado conman on the run.
She teased him with her laser pointer cat’s eyes
To get him sniffing ‘round her litter box.
He jumped at something spooky and she got his goat;
A perfect puss and booty paradox.

She’s a Fat City kitty cat
Sitting in her parlor with a Ouija board. 
And she’s conjuring visions of feline intent,
Clawing at the night for her reward.

In Jefferson Parish she covers the odds
With fifty shades of gray behind the door.
Her menu offers Creole faire on Sundays;
She’ll let you taste her etouffee, and more.
In Algiers she appears like an omen,
Then vanishes again as sure as sin.
You can bet an honest dollar on her virtue, 
And lose it when she plays her violin.

She’s a Fat City kitty cat.
Her Tarot cards can turn a pretty trick.
Her rivals try to plagiarize her voodoo.
She isn’t just another Cajun chick.
No, she’s a Fat City kitty cat,
A diva with a loyal entourage.
She’ll do her Fat City this and that,
And treat you to a Bourbon Street massage.

Advertising

Advertising
Looking for clients, people who’ll buy
Got lots to sell bigger fish to fry
Looking for a break through
It’s got to come soon
I’ll advertise a fork and sell you a spoon.

Magazines and newspapers, that’s what I’ll try
Make the add slanted to catch the eye
Wait for the phone it’s bound to ring
On edge all night
Hope I got it right
But still didn’t sell a bloody thing

Changed the format and went digital
Spent four hundred quid, recouped sod all
Promises made, by a chief exec
On edge all night
Hope I got it right
Nothing sold online or by cash or cheque

I look at my product, I know it’s great
I look at the clock and I’m running late
Placing my add it’s all about me
On edge all night 
Hope I got it right
But no buyers hooked even though it’s free

Last chance saloon, sent in a pic
I did my hair and think I look chic
Held my goods for everyone to see
On edge all night 
Hope I got it right
Come to the conclusion, it must be me.

David Cox  09/08/21 Very early morning.

Limerick's X 5

Brother Joseph 

Brother Joseph loved whiskey to drink
Never washed and oh boy did he stink
Monks  stuck him in a tub
All took turns him to rub
He's no longer called the missing link.

Old Sparky

A cruel robber who hailed from zaire
Shot some people cos he didn't care
Then his gun jammed
Said I'll be damned
Now he's sat in the electric chair .

The Race

Snail Sammy he entered the  race
Hare Harry said "you're a disgrace"
Harry stopped for a break
Sammy did overtake
Now Harry's got egg on his face.

Bing Yang

A brazen conman  Bing Yang from Beijing 
Conned a widow out of her diamond ring 
Her folks were appalled
The police were called
Who caught Bing Yang when they set up a'sting'.

Hateful Kid

A hateful kid loved to make the girls scream
Put spiders and dead flies in their ice cream 
So they got their own back
Tied him up in a sack 
And they threw him head first into a stream.



Written 3rd July 2019.

Snake Oil Man

In a covered wagon he travelled west 
For every ailment he had a cure
His miracle oil he claimed was the best 
People he conned were the sick and the poor.

In remote towns he would set up his scam
Helped by two' friends' in the crowd for his trick
Who' volunteered' but were part of the sham
Arthur the cripple and poor sighted Mick.

But they were fed up of his trickery
And exposed him to the crowd in the town 
The conman shouted" Mick what can you see"?
Mick said "nothing, I heard Arthur fall down"

Snake oilman was speechless and he went pale
The townsfolk seized him and threw him in jail.



Written on 30th December 2018

The Lavatory

Conman walks to the lavatory ,stares at the way he treated me.

In Other Words, I Miss You

riding a dark cloud now
wanting to be free while stroking the lightning bolt
acid rain words constructs changes only hell can withstand
my yearning and its passion runs every direction and blueprint of my brain
when i function, i am a conman stealing the angelic wings of truth
to avoid burning further, you find the inspiration to become stronger
by the time the light is all crystal clear, all of my accounts have been fully drained
now the dark cloud gallops in, and i am impervious to the reaper's wrath
it all feels like a new lifetime of walking in an endless desert of shame and regret
the only option now is definitive death
in other words, i miss you....

Time a Prison

Time – a prison

I see my Daughter’s life, spent in a time capsule,
locked in this prison, a prisoner of her own devices,
waiting for the phone to ring, to bring her to life,
to open the cage door, behind which she keeps herself,
hidden, setting her free for a moment, to run,
with living time, instead of locked up in it,
letting it be her guide, carrying her along.
The moment of life passes, time once again stands still,
as she reincarcerates herself, relegated to that void,
that pain filled space of motionless, lifeless time,
dead time created by, imprisoned by her belief
- in this conman, a man steeped in ********, in lies,
this imbecilic child in a man’s shell -
that it’s love coming from this controlling child / man
fated by, fuelled by the emotions of a child, my Child.

Oh !!!, to turn back the clock, if but I could,
teach my Daughters, they need not, should 
not follow, blindly, the footsteps of us who would 
send them on a journey towards self-destruction,
we, who guided them along without instruction,
we who failed them miserably!!!
That we, be their mother and me. 

B. J. “A ” 2
May 5th  2002

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