Infractions Poems

Infractions

Class can leave you in a hurry,
bypass that final lavish taste.
Glass on asphalt left shattering,
alas it cannot be replaced.

Stay focused on keeping control,
survey your impulsive actions.
Convey a sense of decorum,
 portray no further infractions.

Too Late

Too long since we met, and now too late;
words, misplaced in anger, at some point
turned inwards into bitter silence.
Small infractions soon expand to chasms
in the sleepless, fetid, endless nights
of my self-righteous indignations.
All we had so quickly lost, and why?
You were dying; I could not forgive
that you could part and be so selfish.
Leave me to face this ungodly world
that you prepared me for and did not.

JUDGE AND JURY

You point the accusing finger,
For infractions of the rules.
Common sense and understanding,
Oft must bow to a book of rules.

You sit in judgement of the wrong,
Hating evil doers,
Refusing explanations,
As clemencies grow fewer.

When you sit in judgement,
You accept a dreadful task;
For you drink judgement on yourself,
When you drink from that flask.

God will judge the mind and heart,
When're He judges sin.
Man will judge the act alone.
He cannot see within.

So think before you judge someone,
For oft you can't say sorry.
Be certain of the circumstance,
When you are judge and jury.

Its All Bunkum, This De Banking'

Lets be frank' who would want to de-bank?
It seems like communisam.?
Not just an odd  buisniss schsim'
Theres no balance of books? At first and
Second last looks.' Theres big payouts
On ideas' and moves on genders, its really
Ballons flags and suspenders, what return
Is envusaged? As society is ravaged.'
Is there ground for class actions, against
Legal infractions? Is a bearer not promised
To be paid, to be honest ' as we note this
Reality, we observe rampant insanity a rejection
Of reason, a late summer madness amidst a
Lowering of ammounts? taken in or out of accounts!
Yet inflation considered shoud not rationality
Be delivered, good service for custom, not fabrication
And bunkum.! Is the free market not told us? in
The world vision, and action thats always sold us'
A value a co-hesion for world benefit its ever reasoned
Is this its reflection? There must be collective
Rejection!

Taboos

There are certain taboos
We can't write about here
Which applies to all
'Cept this old grey beard

I step over the line
In the name of humour
They'll censor me soon
Not someday, but sooner

They're minor infractions
Innocent wee scenes
For those who love humour
I'm an innocent old bean

Let's all take a vote
Who wants me banned
Betcha they'll vote no
In fact they'll demand

To keep me around
To cheer up the group
So what if I'm naughty
Now who gives a poop

We're all big adults
Been down the old path
So discussions over
Wow that was pretty fast!

Do They Even Live In This State

Four students arrive late to school every day.
Downtown has allowed them to attend our school
Although they live two or three towns away
They are definitely ruining our attendance

They are loud and proud.
Demanding this, that and the other.
Arrogant and rude like their parent.
We have only met one, but she is a trip.

We say nothing, allowing these infractions to happen daily
It seems crazy to me, and yet I am not in charge.
I wonder sometimes if these children live in this state.
I keep my mouth shut.

Not my business
And since I live in a different state
Not my tax dollars either

A Poet's Mirage

There is a bubble of illusion right here on the soup
Its shadow still finds the same sozzled group
This conjuring is cloaked and lobbied with scripture
But ego confuses the muse and its picture

Artistry is squandered and concealed by the night
Infractions are made in the absence of light
When opportunity is lost, despair fuels our anger
Conviction falls duped to this unyielding danger

Compassion and patience, are a poet’s best cure
Lost thoughts will return, of this I am sure
May your pen drip with ink and your ego soon go
Your muse will return, it’s just ebb and flow

5/17/22
Bubble of Illusion Poetry Contest
Sponsor:  Unseeking Seeker

Prisons Long For Company

Prisons long for company,
Itching to swallow many;
One ruinous day and we are there,
In their confinement graduating to heir...
Simply an indictment mimicking a spear, 
Scarcely reckoning how to others we are dear.

One doesn’t have to be misdeeds haunted,
Our handcuffs not by our infractions prompted;
In deed any allegation at last alighting on your skull,
By this preparing you for an enclave offering a life dull;
Crime crackers the thing prodding further,
Clinching a chance rounding it off as murder:
Just for the sums that from bailing sprout,
The consoling thousand from  a pocket out.

Thoughts On a Lifetime of Travel

I have wandered near and far during all my years
Keeping such good counsel with all those I have met,
Trying to minimize the impact of my fears
Nourishing a kind and gentle, thoughtful mindset.
I have tried not to commit many infractions
Though in this regard I have miserably failed,
Whenever possible, I weighed my transactions
And, far as I recall, I have never been jailed.

The best thing about a life filled with adventure
Is gaining good information worth finding out
The joy of understanding a diverse culture,
Beforehand, I never even had thought about
Comes a time when travel is perilous, and so
I take steps carefully and exceedingly slow.

Written April 23, 2021

Bombs Before Oor Bairns

...And I'm pleading with the powers, yeah the ones who love their state. Where its profits before the marginalised in this strata'd play of fate.

And I'm screaming at the mongers, selling a malingerers parade. Where its bombs before "oor" bairns in this warhorsed "social" state.

First past the Post... Equities of disease..
Living wage infractions..
Become this bourgeois wet dream...

Carnivorous cancers...
Form Vito's of class.
Still the price of a pound...
See's who's first and fears who's last…

Miss Pat and Her Rules

The list of infractions 
caused many to bypass Miss Pat’s residence
Home for Glistening Seniors.

Many moved toward more lively establishments
That allowed fraternizing, drinking and dancing
All the things her home banned.

Miss Pat had dispensed with two rules
hoping to win them back.
Going to bed at seven 
and waking up at four a.m.
She liked to serve breakfast at five.

Apparently it was not enough.
She was out of business in a short time.

She Wolf Is Banished

Kind thoughts were hard to come by
After the she-wolves began comparing stories
Feeding off each other, exaggerating her infractions
By the time Grandmother Wolf entered the den
It was too late to refocus the she-wolves
They were stirred and frenzied
Ready to banish her from the pack

The Calloway Mama

The Calloway’s mama was not unlike an octopus 
With tentacles in the PTA, the church, the A.A., 
She was involved in every aspect of whatever.
Her friends kept her abreast of what her six children were about.
When they were young, she knew before they arrived home
About each of their infractions, and was plotting their guilt.
Not unlike the mama’s of the other religious persuasions.
She was the ultimate mama.

The Calloway children could not keep secrets from her.
Even as young adults, and even forty-year olds, 
They watched their peas and q’s, not wanting to disappoint.
Mama Calloway was not unlike an octopus 
With interested, curious, loving tentacles everywhere
Grabbing her children up and giving them a hug, kiss or swat
Depending upon what they needed at that exact moment.
Old Man Calloway was not nearly involved, thinking 
Children should be released at age eighteen.  Silly man!

Black Drapes and Plastic Fingers

Awhile back my soul took a wrong turn
sometimes I wonder was I a tough birth
did I come out feet first
like a blue faced luge runner
banking right then left onto the icy cuff
launching into a starless pit of nothingness-
Maybe your breasts were filled with booze
not enough nurture.
Maybe a bit to much old fashioned strap 
from steppingstone mother
for the most minor infractions.
Without love to temper stings
life is just one big muddy slog
void of any spring-

I'm hesitant-simple decisions are difficult.
and that ever present haze of mistrust
once sparkling relations turning diamonds into dust-
Maybe I snapped when that pissed off farmer.
wrapped a dead snake around my neck-
For freeing his herd of cows-now I'm a bit of a control freak.
Wanting to palm butterflies and honeybees.
Maybe It was that fifth grade "teacher"(you know who you are). 
With the strong cologne and loose hands-
That made me into a quicksand man.
Everybody I meet gets sucked into the ooze. 

I need to let it all go-clean the mental lint trap.
but these sun crushers, present and past.
 keep arriving in sleek sharky waves.
Bearing loose plastic fingers and black satin drapes-

Step Santa and Petting the Prefix

12/28/18
I just received a gift from my {step}mother, 
Only three days late this year.
It's a Santa Claus soap dispenser... with a twirl and a twist. 
I used to own it well over twenty years since.
It has yellowing soap still clogging the spigot...
*****, you've even treated old Saint Nick like a {step},
How true to your form and fitting that is.

{Step} Santa was more of a message than a gift.
After all, I've been a half-assed {step}son at best.
but {step}mother you must admit, I was always your third-class citizen.
From the brackish affection, impish rags you stapled to my rear,
Minor infractions swiftly met with a belt called, I'll bring you to your tears.   

You were the metal toothed snapper in the pond of my youth. 
If you deny me this, then you're an abuser of the worst kind
an abuser of the truth!

For the most part, I've freeze dried your slipperiness, 
I think {step} is a glacier cold but the perfect prefix.

• Short Infractions Poems
• Famous Infractions Poems
• Best Infractions Poems
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• Long Infractions Poems
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