Long Caught red handed Poems

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The Beacon Runneth Over

There’s thousands of puzzles that have never been solved and never will be 
Please excuse my OCD as it floods my brain completely 
I’m a man of cold hard evidence 
As I’ll be sure to fax you all my fax complete receipts 
As they continuing printing  

“Follow me, I can give you answers you didn’t know you needed” 
What he whispers in the ears of the vulnerable 
Dear prince of fallen angels,
Tell me every demon was once apart of heaven 

She could have dropped her sword and ran 
But instead she used your words against you indisputably 
She runs away with the weight of the world on her shoulders,
and the power to turn any metal into gold 
And any heart into a slave for her idolized soul 

She had the politicians begging for answers and writing down notes 
While your fathers prayed tenfold 

There’s thousands of unsolved crimes that have never been solved 
and never will be 
And there’s no justice in higher security 
But the warriors in red have a hold of me
Showing me a more progressive way of masculinity 
While your fathers blew their money on tokens of affection,
Paying for love tenfold 

There’s a million questions I have about my mind that have never been answered, and never will be 
Like why my OCD has to take over me completely,
Repeating the same lines to myself quietly 
I feel like a mental patient in my own hospitality 

Writing novels of accountability 
While your fathers were on their hands and knees
With blood on their hands, 
Screaming “why did this happen to me?”

Like feeling relief after a break up 
Something was your sign all along 
We either don't see it until it's too late 
Or we choose to ignore it 

And you can't convince me otherwise;
Spies have one job
And yours was to be a part of my life 

I'm used to feeling disappointed
But that doesn't mean it gets less scathing 
And you can't convince me otherwise;
A spy has one job 
And with the blood on your hands,
Caught red-handed, 
You failed at only disappointing me slightly
You didn't have it in you to give me the bare minimum
Like the warriors before you that dropped their swords and ran,
Regretting their choice of a life of violence over romance 

Dear prince of fallen angels,
Please remind me that every demon was once at the hands of God,
fighting for forgiveness tenfold


Grandma

Ding ,ding and ding                                                                   The bell rang continuously.                                                     
 The cotton candy man made the sound.                           Which made me to lure habitually                               
                                                                                             Grandma Grandma                                                                   
She was the treasurer of the home permanently                     I asked her to give a quarter anna.                                            To buy a cotton candy purposefully                                      
                                                                                                       She refused adamantly.                                                                 I went into her room silently                                                   
And searched her shrink bag                                               Stole a quarter anna coin quietly.                                          
                                                                                                 Bought a cotton candy joyfully.                                           Tasted it in the backyard gladly                                               Returned to home like a thief                                         Grandma stood near the door angrily.                                      
                                                                                                      She looked me penetratingly                                                  
 Her eagle eyes frightened me seriously                                  A red particle sticked on my lip                                                    I was caught red handed notoriously                                    
                                                                                                      She came near to me.                                                                   And beat on my back mercilessly.                                                 I never forgot the incident                                                Learned a lesson from her personally.
Form: Rhyme

Grandma

Ding ,ding and ding                                                                   The bell rang continuously.                                                     
 The cotton candy man made the sound.                           Which made me to lure habitually                               
                                                                                             Grandma Grandma                                                                   
She was the treasurer of the home permanently                     I asked her to give a quarter anna.                                            To buy a cotton candy purposefully                                      
                                                                                                       She refused adamantly.                                                                 I went into her room silently                                                   
And searched her shrink bag                                               Stole a quarter anna coin quietly.                                          
                                                                                                 Bought a cotton candy joyfully.                                           Tasted it in the backyard gladly                                               Returned to home like a thief                                         Grandma stood near the door angrily.                                      
                                                                                                      She looked me penetratingly                                                  
 Her eagle eyes frightened me seriously                                  A red particle sticked on my lip                                                    I was caught red handed notoriously                                    
                                                                                                      She came near to me.                                                                   And beat on my back mercilessly.                                                 I never forgot the incident                                                Learned a lesson from her personally.
Form: Rhyme

Number Forty Six White House Occupant Re

Number forty six - White House occupant re:
guarding President elect Joe Biden

Within mein hermitage
now dwells one euphoric troglodyte who wept
upon hearing unbelievable news,
(albeit at snail's pace schlepped
finally proclamation emancipation
gave reasonable rhyme yours truly to ejaculate
(not prematurely), subsequently I leapt

into the air, and kept
myself aloft completing
one after another sumersault and except
for minor nuisance of gravity
nevertheless landed feet first and crept
back into mine mancave adept
to survive alone in the wilderness.

Seventy four million popular votes
tallied across country,
gives ample reason to grind hips and bump,
(cuz the most votes
cast for any presidential candidate in history),
which Republican contender finally plopped
hook line and anchored

courtesy Taj Mahal replica sinker
into dustbin of history
good riddance electorate voted out
loutish oaf, which voters chose to dump
best mandated to cavort with zoot suited frump
on any given Wednesday available to hump
rotund barenaked lady merging
into humongous protoplasmic lump.

Caught red handed concerning
more'n where's the beef
stole 2016 election
under nose of Hillary Clinton
abused role, when tasked
as commander in chief

good ole Charlie Brown nemesis
caused nothing but grief,
hence yours truly quite elated
upon occasion when figurative new leaf
turned over and booted out
as more onerous than Baghdad thief.

Hit the ground running
with nary a second to waste
Joe Biden, Kamala Harris and company
proving their steely eyed mettle
after victory lap Democrats did taste

usher in COVID-19 game plan
bolstering pandemic defences
where prior administration sorely misplaced
priorities United States Lady Liberty
wantonly, undeservedly, subsequently
her reputation disgraced.

Hope springs eternal - ah tis amazing grace
yours truly suddenly brimming with optimism
able bodied diverse cabinet to erase
formerly inept sycophants with intentions base
running amok within White House

at long last competent candidate won the race
adieu Donald Trump, who
did disappearing act at Mar-A-Lago without a trace
sore loser teed off absent American
delivering his humiliating defeat coup de grâce.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Karen O'Leary—my Poetry Soup Pal!

She should have been Hera, goddess queen of heaven, the sister-wife of 
Zeus, king of the gods; she would have caught him one Friday night tipping 
Out while she sleeps to visit one of his plumy wives and over 100 relations. 
She would have said, “Sit down Zeus; let me inform you about the laws of 
Property settlement and child support in heaven with a concrete poem.”

She would have straightened up Aphrodite, goddess of love and lust.
Especially when Aphrodite was caught red-handed making love to
Her son, Ares, the God of war, she probably would have said, “Now look 
Here woman, quit messing with my son and creating all this rumblings in
Heaven with the gods.” I could see some Lanturne poems floating

She would have acted as the sister of Demeter, goddess of fertility,
Agriculture, and harvest, a sister of Zeus. Because she would have 
Blessed women with children who need them, and also farmers
With great harvest and crops to feed their families and sustain the 
People across the land, by waving a haiku poem in her healing hands

She would have screamed as the sister of Hermes, the crooked cattle-rustling
God; son of Zeus and Maia, who stole his brother, Apollo’s cows, then
Lied, and swore before Zeus, their father, “That even if I knew who stole 
Apollo’s cattle, I would not even accept a reward for finding the thief.” 
She would have gave her crooked brother, and son of Zeus, a flying senryu

She would have been with Athena, the virgin goddess of wisdom, reason, and 
Heroic endeavors; the daughter of Zeus, and Titan goddess of wise counsel 
Métis, especially when Athena appeared onto Swift-footed demigod,
Achilles, and told him, “Sheathe your sword and defeat Agamemnon, the 
Greek king with words of wisdom.”  I could see some wise epigram poems 

She was probably counseled by Apollo, her brother, god of music, healing, and 
Poetry; the son of Zeus and the Titan goddess Leto. Because she has cared 
For the sick in hospital emergency rooms, and has also stimulated us for years 
With her poetic muse. She has counseled many along the way and has calmed
Many storms with loving charm. “Hail my sister in Christ—Karen O’Leary!”

Happy birthday angel and wishing you many more for years to come!


' ... Looking For Some Skin ' Part 1 (Of) 2

… Well,  a man told me a Story
That was hard to Believe
I thought he was Lying…
‘til I looked thru some Trees…
There went a thin Alligator
With a Boot on his Head !...
Walking to the River –
Like he’s so Unafraid…

Now, I turned back to the Guy
And asked, “What should I do?...
… but he was limping away
Without any Shoes…
He had a smile on his Face
That turned into Laughter…
He joked, and said…
“The old-boy came and got what he was after!....
… Amen !...

He was just looking for his Skin
He needed somethin’ to walk Around-in
Hold his head upright, and keep on Walking…
… He was just looking for his Skin…

… Now, if we could know the Creature-Language
They would shock us to the Core !
‘Cause they got their Own Legends
And wild-animal ‘Lore’…
They think that we are Lethal
And they just can’t Trust…
“Those Strange Two-Legged Walkers…
Come here looking for Us !...

“ There’s a Silk-Worm Somewhere
Working in a Sweat-Shop
So that little-bitty Woman
Gets a pretty, pink Top 
Be it Leather or Pelts
Or Fur or Fleece
Say, Ram, I hate to tell you… but …
… ain’t that your Niece…
… in that Pen?”

“… ‘Cause they’re looking for Our Skin
They need somethin’ to walk Around-in
Better Round-Up all of Your Kin…
‘Cause they’re looking for Our Skin !”…

Well, if you don’t think this is True
Go Back to The Beginning
Where the First Man and Woman
Was caught Red-Handed (Stealing)

They got Leaves from the Trees
But wind Blew, Right-Thru
Man Turned to Woman:  said,
“… don’t know what to do !...

So Half-naked and Crying
They had to Leave a Home
Yet, God… Ever Gracious…
Gave ‘em Skins… ‘fore they was Gone !...
… Amen !...

That Snake was looking for Your Skin…
Now, You Need Something to Walk Around-in
He was looking for Your Skin…
That’s what you get for listening…

                               (Part 1 of 2)

Sara... this one's for you Kiddo and all the 
Enjoyment I've gotten from Your Writings... 
(and... You were one of the first to Greet Me here
on the Soup... and let me know... it's Ok
You've Landed Upon Kindness... Share... Thank You)

MoonBee

Bash Putin Week-Now Open To Collaborations

We've been having a "Bash Santa" week, but I wrote limericks this morning about Putin breaking his tailbone.  So, Tom suggested we have a "Bash Putin" week.  Here are three more from me.  Please join in bashing that dastardly demon if you wish.


That Evil Putin fell down and hurt his tushy
He swore, "It was one of my bodyguards pushed me!"
Not wanting to be blamed
For he was so ashamed
That he had to change his pants cuz they were gooshy

It was on his darn keister that Putin landed
I'm going to be honest and very candid
He was chasing a skirt
When the scumbag got hurt
While being frisky with her, he was caught red-handed

Now he can't sit in a chair on his derriere
Cuz that lowlife tried to ruin the innocent, Claire
It's his tailbone he broke
His neck I'd like to choke
He's worse than Hitler, the annihilator Herr
                         Written by Jenna Logan


V. Putin has fallen on his tush
Pity was not in a thorny bush
Put him on a chain gang
Better yet, let him hang
Then let us have in Russia a putsch!

Arrogant Putin's butt is sore
Love this special news, tell us more
The ass is hurtin'
The world is certain
Putin needs to be shown the door.
              Written by L. Milton Hankins


Putin is a fascist like Hitler, no doubt 
That's what he really is all about
He fell on his a.r.s.e 
Emitting methane garse 
And learned it's three Reichs you're out!

Putin to his guards was accusatory 
So let us embellish on that story 
Shoved down from his thrown 
Cracked his smug coccyx bone 
This tail-ends his self-proclaimed glory
              Written by Robert Gorelick



Vlad Putin was dealing with state affairs 
On his way back he skidded down the stairs
You could smell the foul gas
Cos' he ruptured his a.s.s
 No get well wishes because nobody cares. 

He'd fallen over and broke his a.s.s. bone 
A guard rushed over when he heard a moan
Hard luck you commie jerk
Cos'  it's karma at work
Start praying now for your sins and atone
                   Written by Tom Cunningham
Form: Limerick

Premium Member Only Slade's Brain

Tim was the new judge in Deadwood Flat
Not really qualified, just a rancher at that
He first case was of the outlaw, Horace Slade
Caught red handed in a cattle raid

The jury took ten minutes to recommend the noose
Better than letting this rattlesnake loose.
Tim smoothed out his robe, asked Slade to speak
Slade perked up, though his future was bleak

"It was only my brain, my brain it was me.
Badly constructed, that's how I plea
My thoughts, my feelings, my crooked way
All preprogrammed in my DNA!

"You see Dad was a member of the cardshop mob
Mom always drunk, and moreover a slob
My twin set a cat on fire at the age of three
So, who could predict much hope for me?

Tim panicked, searched his dictionary
Couldn't find DNA, wished he was on the prairie
He had never heard that excuse before
But said to Slade, "proceed, tell us more"

Slade felt hope, and got on a roll
He said "ain't no such thing as a soul'
"I know the computer hasn't been invented yet
"But we're programmed, coded, our path in life set!

"I shot a man to watch him die
Then partied at the bar for an alibi
Not my fault, an MRI would have shown
My limbic system, quiet as a stone.

The jury murmured, Tim gave a sigh
What was a computer, or an MRI?
Slade's nonsense was going too far
Slade could have used a lesson in better P.R.

Tim said, "I hope what you say is not true
I like soul and spirit, the afterlife too.
But either way, some feelings I can't transcend
My brain wants your pointless existence to end!

They planned to hang Slade on the Alder tree
Justice would be served, jury did agree
Then Slade tried a ploy, to explain his crime
He yelled "I'm a traveler through time!"

"I come from the year 2024
DNA, MRI, computers and more
Got stuck in a time warp, had to survive
You'd do the same to stay alive"

They had to let Slade go, agreed he's insane
Tim didn't like to do it, it went against the grain
But Deadwood Flats couldn't hang a guy
Who believed in computers, DNA, and MRI!
Form: Lyric

Premium Member Beyond the Bars

“A person who is remorseful over his past actions without any inclination to change just punishes himself. On the other hand, remorse with a desire to change is so constructive and will yield wonderful results”- ~ By Poet

Scenes reel back casting dark shadows,
Of the fated day I had to leave my home,
Handcuffed and guarded by cops on either side,
Despised by all as one so loathsome.

I had in me, then the heart of stone.
All I could think was of my own gain.
Thoroughly swept by the rip - tide of illusion,
I had no regard for another’s pain.

‘Drink life to the lees’ was my credo.
So I gambled to make a hoard of money.
Drugs and dopes gave me instant delight.
Initially my days were all too sunny

But suddenly life derailed from its track.
My wallet was like a leaking tank.
All its contents drained out in no time.
Gradually into dejection and despair, I sank.

Eliminated from life by my own misdeeds,
Weary of mind from stress and strife,
Hate grew and hardened within me as a rock.
Once I ripped my rival with a knife.

Convicted and caught red handed,
I ended up in this cheerless cell.
Within these dank forlorn walls,
I shrink like an oyster in its shell.

Everything here is dusty and rusty 
To get some peace as I attempt to sleep,
Marauding thoughts invade my brain.
Like a line of red ants, they listlessly creep.
…….      ……..      ………    ……….

But years of confinement have changed my life.
I am determined not to give up my fight.
Somehow, I will push and pull myself on
And will walk victorious to the world of light.

Through these cold rusted prison bars,
Now I look into a world that lies beyond.
From dead faces, longingly I cast my eyes, 
On all that once to me has been so very fond.

I must go back to life, so sadly lost,
And live for the day I will make a new start.
I hope I can make it, at least have to try,
And realize the dreams I still treasure in my heart!

Heal Thyself O Patient - II

Proffered no reprieve, led was I like cow 
By clinic’s nurse to slaughterhouse, I thought, 
The wise me cursing the rebel me now, 
All mute, betwixt devil-pain-and-doc caught. 
Take thermal waves— weighty words waft from her, 
And every day— we can’t let it get worse—
She, pontiff like, her wisdom did aver,  
I learn to live with pain, whilst me to curse. 

Oh for a thankless lingering long time, 
Yet, pain nor problem wanes both wind their way,
Docs have reasons that to them only rhyme: 

I need take a good look at your x ray, 
I feel as if caught in a lifetime’s crime—
Caught red-handed with a bleeding knife, say.

Yea, caught red-handed, knife still bleeding red,
No sign of malignant growth, he declared 
As he scanned my x ray, felt elated  
To hint that he favoured me, for, he glared 
At me to pose: how kind heart he’s within, 
Then, his eyes enlarging more than somewhat, 
Said, see that growth on left hidden therein, 
I sure have reasons to doubt it than naught. 

But doc, I see naught else but fore-arm bone, 
Humerus bone as you call, but I view  
It as rather funny, fun too far gone, 

But felt, silence is patients’ sole virtue, 
On wrong side of stick— hurting bone my own, 
Wordless I weighed for his weighty clue.    
_______________________________________ 
Crown of sonnets | 03.11.2012, revised July 2023| 
Poet’s note: Here are sonnets III and IV of a sequel of ten sonnets constituting one single poem called a crown of sonnets. The last line of the preceding sonnet is repeated as the first line of the next sonnet, but not verbatim; nor is the first line of the first sonnet is repeated as the last line of the tenth as is.  The sestets are either a quartet and a couplet or two sets of three-lined Terza Rima. Hurt is the place from where light enters, and it did, I realized after my long-drawn medical treatment.

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