Long Criminals Poems

Long Criminals Poems. Below are the most popular long Criminals by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Criminals poems by poem length and keyword.


Sans Sixth Psychic Non Sense

Sans Sixth (psychic) non Sense...
Posing As Dystopian Rant

This prognosticator doth predict
potential based at current rate
sinister debacle that will
instantaneously annihilate,
which alarming (ohm my dog) turbulent
endemic chaotic spate

within human race poised to strike
doom and generate
shock tummy once amp pull goldenlocks,
now revealing a shiny baldpate
erratic behavior attendant prescient
intimations presage apocalyptic fate

while current commander in chief
didst unwittingly generate,
and sow the seeds of anarchy sparking
global conflagration that will create
instantaneous prime evil
total mortal kombat, cuz "FAKE" mandate

issued, when Trump went ballistic
loose sing rockets red glare,
when pressing hot button to demonstrate
thermonuclear supremacy, 
sans 3D printable bomb 
(albeit a moot point),

would render superfluous need way to late
to draft intestate
last (or perchance first, second,
third...) will and testament, tete a tete
perhaps minuscule (nee 
infinitesimal) ordnance out of date

turns out a Department of Defense dud 
eh, no surprise as aye narrate 
finding Don tremendously irate
(blaming "crooked Hillary," democrats,
spongebobsquarepants,...yours truly...)
the list goes on, thus no need to iterate,

thus a sudden religious fervor gripped
the wide webbed world
attributing why weapons did not actuate,
which found pontiff in high demand

in an attempt to accommodate
frenzied zeal attributing aborted blitzkrieg
to divine intervention with bajillion
talking heads airing where to dedicate
material trappings to indigent, great
full not dead, plus those petty

criminals rightly or wrongly,
the strong arm of
lanced law did incarcerate
bowed down on daily and nightly basis
exploding huzzahs every
human did ejaculate

"not prematurely," where 
all walks of life integrate,
a spontaneous international
utopian revelation awoke
with linkedin diversity to promulgate
protecting the planet took precedence
yea right Matthew Scott - dear mate
only in the context of this poem I did create.


Call To Arms

Earth left shattered, broken ground
Call of duty raised the dead
Screams are felt, no need for sound
Blazing orange spotted red
Douse the fires with blood shed
Pillaged homes and raided farms
Burning bush may well have said
All men rise when called to arms

Self appointed judge condemns
Sinner’s mind admits defeat
Inner torment from which stems
The need to kiss the judge’s feet
Criminals don’t need to eat
Let them perish, do no harm
Vengeful wrath salivates sweet
All men rise when called to arms

We have the right to hatred blind
Protect our treasures from the sway
We have the right to silence kind
Determined not to go astray
Careful planning day by day
No surprises, no alarms
Denial is the only way
All men rise when called to arms

Sleeping children dream of love
Clutching talismans and charms
The time has come to rise above
All men rise when called to arms
Form: Ballade

Premium Member Politically Correct

Ever notice silly signs some businesses put up?
Like braille upon the restroom door and drive through banks fixed up,
In case a blind man happens by driving his brand new car,
And wants to use the ATM, they've gone a little far.

How can they read the braille if the way they cannot see?
If driving they use dog or cane or wrap around a tree.
I never saw a blind man drive or inch along a wall,
Looking for a restroom sign in restraunt, bar or mall;

And what's up with these crazy laws they're passing now I see?
A misdemeanor gets you jailed while criminals walk free.
I'm telling you the times have changed, things ain't the way they was.
Folks used to smile and show respect but not no more becuz,

They don't know where you're coming from, they don't know where you've been.
Right is wrong and wrong is right, they're trying to blend in.
I'm tired of trying to blend in, stand in my own defense.
Why can't the laws be like before and show some common sense.
© Judy Ball  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Quatrain

Premium Member Genocide in Real Time

We cowardly witnessed the genocide of many human beings
Live, live, live in real time
That was an odious, callous and vicious crime
We said nothing, absolutely nothing about the sad and awful events
Many of us were either silent or complacent about everything
Even God was absent and quiet. He did nothing, nothing
Evil doers are not humane; they are hardcore criminals
We witnessed the bombings of babies, buildings and animals
We saw the massacres and the aftermaths. We could smell the blood
And could hear the cries coming out of the television screens
We saw the live and dead bodies, the hearts, the livers and the spleens
Rotting and spoiling in the filthy streets. The color of the mud
Is grim and abnormal, because of too much sufferings and tears
Too much pain and misery, too much disgust and shame
Too much atrocities and killings. We all know whom to blame
We know who are responsible for so much evilness and wrongdoings
Humanity got thrown out of the window in this part of the universe
We wonder if these two legged machines have a heart and a soul
We wonder if they ever look in a mirror, in a clear pool
We wonder how it would be if everything were to happen in reverse
Where is God? Why this ignominious silence?
Live, live, live in real time
That’s an odious, egregious and beastly crime
How can anybody sleep at night? That makes no sense
These days, everything is live, eerie, vivid and instantaneous
Grotesque things are never acceptable, admissible and hilarious
We want peace and we dream of peace
But the guilty ones must pay from west to east
And from north to south. We want peace and justice.

P.S. This poem is dedicated to Love, Peace, Equality and Justice.

Copyright © June 2025 Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member The Church of Presidents

The Church of Presidents
By Franklin Price
06/02/2020

Saint John's, near the White House, is the church of Presidents
Rioters tried to burn it, at least that's how the story went.

Not peaceful people protesting, who set the church on fire,
But trouble making criminals who, some say, were there for hire.

Doesn't matter much at all, whether they were paid or not
Their protests were not peaceful, they were there to stir the pot

Setting fires and looting are not by the Constitution. 
Americans should gather peacefully, to protest for resolution.

Those who go outside the law to spread their hate around
Should quickly be disbanded wherever they are found.

Donald Trump the President says pretty much the same.
But does some pretty foolish things, when he tries to play the game.

Bible in hand, walked to the church, during protests yesterday.
Left the safety of the White house, tear gas and cops to clear the way

He did not need to stir the pot, to make news scream and shout
What he did was well within his rights, that's what protestation's all about

Although it was his right to do, should not have shoved it in our faces.
He could have chosen better times and, for sure, much better places.

He is still our only president, still the one that I support.
He should think sometimes of consequence, when doing things for sport.
Form: Couplet


Premium Member Angelic Interception

She was turning sixteen at the stroke of midnight,
Unbeknown to family her unfortunate blight,
Was about to become work in progress,
No need to ask permission or advise or confess,
A beautiful young girl about to be added and abandoned
To statistics, thrown to the four winds to waste,
And why, because she met him, he sealed her fate,
A fiendish twenty-two-year-old acne faced pimp,
Clueless, badly spoken, helpless addict, a wimp,
She would join the soulless after he’d ravaged her,
His bright red Ferrari bought with blood, did readily purr.
It’s bucket seats stained with muck from within his self,
Using his filthy, nasty, perilous, notorious, smelly wealth.
Suddenly the sixteen year old beauty was surrounded by light,
At the stroke of the city clock chiming twelve, at midnight,
It was halfway between a dirty syringe and a planned binge,
Reality woke her up, saw a gap escaped, ran as far as she could,
Was swept up in the arms of her parents, who finally understood,
They were about to lose their daughter to the war on drugs, 
And a handful of mercenary, manipulative criminals, thugs,
But the angel of mercy was on her side, with a stern might.
The pimp hopelessly drunk and pumped with drugs took other girls
Lives, as they flew like birds over the cliff side, screaming with fright.

Premium Member The Old Jail

The old building is imposing, massive and fearful,
built in 1862 as a jail and gallows for criminals;
today the creepiness remains-  turned into a hostel,
one hundred and fifty graves were found on the grounds;
and upper death row cells can be rented for a night.

There are creaking doors and heavy footsteps heard,
wailing and weeping and praying all the night long;
on a dare- I rented a top floor cell with black bars,
I was told the daunting gallows remain not far away;
and went to my bunk, not really believing the stories.

I was found in the morning crumpled and weeping,
talking hysterically about being hanged by decomposed men;
the mental hospital is not much better than that jail was,
where ghosts hang me every single night in the gallows;
now dear, it is just a dream but I am terrified to go to sleep.

_________________________________________
September 30, 2020


Poetry/Narrative/The Old Jail
Copyright Protected, ID 20-1290-558-03
All Rights Reserved, 2020, Constance La France

Written for the contest, "The Unexplained"
sponsor, Carolyn Devonshire

First Place
Form: Narrative

If I Become a General

I’ll always  preside over right deeds
And will not be immoral over right deeds
My commitment will be my loyalty 
And every fruit of it will be our royalty  
   
I’ll be very powerful 
And will condemn every unlawful 
My service will not favor a criminal 
I’ll be so different from today’s general

The law will come and create a path 
For everyone to have a right to pass
I’ll prosecute the today’s criminals 
Who have hands on death of several 

Civil rights of my citizens will be restored 
All books of these criminals will be stored
All cells will be full of today’s instigators 
And will form not a group of investigators
Form: Couplet

Premium Member Computers- Are They Worth It

We have reached the hi tech age
surrounded by computers everywhere
but are they really so fully perfecto
without them some think you're all square

They have their dangers to beware
be alert always for hackers don't care
no depth is beyond their nastiness
that innocent call makes you break

That voice seems so genuine
drawing you in to their fold
starting to believe all they say
but don't listen to what you're told

First priority is get secured
make sure you're PC safely sound
warning you of any slight attack
be a step ahead fully crowned

Criminals abound in cyber space
so are PCs really worth it all?
O for the days of computerless
simple days and post on the crawl!
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Factual Truth

We all know as humans chopping down forests through greed filled hands destroying the filtering system that which brings wildlife a safe haven 
to breathe and nest and multiply feeding us 

Man has a poisonous ugly appetite for the earths destruction
messengers from the gods palace are speaking now 
from the deep ocean's bed oars they surface dead remains to say
 
Endangered species disappear forever lost from this beautiful garden 
ancient trees that gave us air to breathe for centuries cut down 
respect they absorb masses of water as now levels rise 

Reading science reports from the effect of deforestation 
many species of insects have fallen drastically soon all we will have is crows picking dead bones and the hounds bleeding our life source dry 

Uncaring we should be planting new life every day with love 
instead killing is all these mobsters are any good at
criminals backwards peddling will never see a future

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