Long Incarceration Poems
Long Incarceration Poems. Below are the most popular long Incarceration by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Incarceration poems by poem length and keyword.
**Eileenesque**
3 stanzas of 5 lines with a chosen set meter (syllable count)
Must have a rhyme scheme; monorhyme seems to flow nicely
Stanza one - line 5 is a combination of lines 1 and 2
Stanza two - line 5 is a combination of lines 2 and 3
Stanza three - line 5 is a combination of lines 4 and 1
in this stanza the situation "comes full circle
and reverses the events in the quatrain."
*A(broad)*
Love, not our problem! that is my thought.
Through tribulation, conversation.
Be each others beacon of support,
reduce and relax away tension,
Conversation. Love, not our problem!
My heart has fled, I travel a(broad),
Stressed by your eternal damnation.
Accusations, I am left distraught
our fights stand as the culmination,
Eternal damnation, left distraught!
Long talks reprieve, harmless flirtation.
Deprivation of love leaves me flawed
after fleeing incarceration.
Found justification now I'm gone.
Talks reprieve, found justification.
Jared Pickett
3/12/2014
Asavvy1
Form:
Your father and your mother they are
The connection to where you are from
Your father and mother came in same manner
Created by their creators before they created you
That's your ancestry and route into existence.
It is not by chance that you belong to that route
You had a choice in it when you existed before here
In the plane where your choice could create
Deciding the life you live in earthly existence
As your ancestry leads you to your source
So the forces that accompany man on the earth
Call it Arusi; Agwu; Guardian Angel; Christ or Saint
However you understand the higher forces that guide
They were in synch with that route in the beginning
That route which you chose to come to earth
Trapped within the soil
Told stories filled with turmoil
Carrying the weight of black history
But it honours their memory
By always remembering
By never forgetting
Soaked by the tears of the enslaved
Waiting, hoping, praying to be saved
The ground an unknowing witness
To them being worked to death
But in awe of their perseverance
Throughout the years
One thing that remains clear
To the soil is that just because things have progressed
Doesn't mean life for black people is perfect
Racism still exists
It went from slavery to incarceration
To it being prevalent throughout the system
Racism just evolved through each generation
We the soil see everything
And hold the key
To untold black stories
The Maid of New Orleans
A teenage cow girl who couldn’t write
Was told by God to front the fight
the hundred Year War against the French
And cut her hair in trendy wedge
Six centuries later it became the rage
She donned male clothes to further enrage
Raising a flag along with the others
To battle by a regiment of brothers
Without a weapon, she could not kill
But controlled her men with fiery will
She took an arrow to her shoulder
Her actions by now becoming bolder
To liberate the French from English reign
And continue with her tough campaign
In Orleans with some success
But Paris was a failed attempt
When a crossbow bolt hit her thigh
She maintained her strength and did not die
The English caught her in old Rouen
And gleefully put her in their prison
With seventy charges, then down to twelve
For hearing voices, wearing masculine clothes
To face a life long incarceration
She assumed male garb in desperation
To avoid rape and intimidation
The Godly voices, she confessed
Tied to a stake, she acquiesced
With celestial eyes but consumed by flames
Thus canonized to saintly fame
T
2 600 years ago
3 Schizophrenic? Voices in the head, seizures.
4 Led French army to some victories in the Hundred Years War (Charles V11) against the English
5 Seen as a mascot in battle she brandished a flag instead of a weapon
6 Took an arrow in her shoulder during the New Orleans campaign and a crossbow bolt in the thigh
during a failed attempt to liberate Paris
7 Volatile temper. She kept the troops in check. Ridiculed by her male counterparts and taunted about
her French dialect, she always quipped back in humiliating tone
8 Fell into English hands in 1430 in Rouen (English Stronghold) and tried by an ecclesiastical court.
70 charges were made against her. Whittled down to 12. Wearing of male clothes and hearing God’s
voice when she was threatened by possible rape and intimidation while in prison
9 Burned at the stake in 1431
10 Emulated by imposters even after death
11 Pioneered the popularity of the bob hairstyle. She was told by voices to cut her hair in manly style.
I felt that I should volunteer
for two short years to do my part,
and so I asked the local draft board,
“Make me next, I want to serve.”
The letter came from Uncle Sam.
It told me to do and when.
They gave me a green uniform,
as orders flew from all directions.
The food was good, the hours long,
as training turned us into men.
Our hair was short, our pay was low,
just sixty-three dollars a month.
I went to war my second year
and lived behind a wire fence.
A prison term is what it seemed.
It felt like incarceration.
When it was over, I came home
with ribbons on my uniform.
“Distinguished Service” was awarded,
by the officer in charge.
Fifty years have come and gone,
but still I hear that special phrase,
from some who say to veterans,
“Thank you for your service.”
There he stood
Rooted by love
To the land.
There he swayed
A welcomed guest
Of Neptunus Rex.
There he soared
Swelled by pride
Into the blues.
There he fell
Beneath waves
Of emotions.
There he flowed
Down river
Into depression.
There he crawled
Into her arms
Sought compassion.
There he felt
The fire desire
Roast raunchy.
There he burned
At both ends
A wax museum.
There he went
Down the drain
Of incarceration.
There he went
There he stayed
Until his final day.
There he goes
Where, who knows?
Here, he shines.
There he’s kept
Treasured twice
By his absence.
There he left
An empty bottle
I drink from daily.
There he mused
The arsonist
Who fired my clay.
Form:
They told us our skin meant exile
That our joy would be put on trial
Because it brings rain
But how can they hate the rain when it nourishes the ground we walk on
The same ground that grows the food we need to survive
They want us to cower in the face of their Whiteness
To bow down to their egos and stroke it
For us to call them superior
And reprimand our own blackness
And repent with silence
But we were born strong
Strength flowed through our bloodlines
Coursing through generations
Our ancestors created a legacy of pride
That we their children will not allow to be broken
We have endured the stings of their whips
We have lived through the shackles of slavery
We have taken abuse from the system
Yet still remained outspoken
Refusing to be the beat up victim
And faced the inhumane conditions of incarceration
We were made to withstand any storm
To hold our own
Whilst being pushed around
To trust in the power of ourselves
To embrace the harsh realities of life
To continue to love
And balance the rain with our sun
To smile and not giving them the satisfaction
Of their racism
And to not be bullied by their discrimination
To all my fallen homies, know you're not forgotten/
I'm constantly pouring bottles in your memory/
When I'm awake, I feel your energy around me/
So I'm striving to be on top, on top is where my spot is/
I'm fighting demons trying to knock me off this mountain/
I work too hard to mount it, still feeling like I'm climbing/
Even though they want to knock and try to stop me/
They won't knock me off my pivot, trying to box me, I box 'em/
My homies were Malefic influenced and was persistent/
On doing the things that demons persuaded/
And the bed that they made, was the bed they lay in/
The demons they fought, was the demons I'm slaying/
From that drain in their brains, to that flame in their veins/
Spawning fire breathing dragons, blowing smoke like a train/
Front line banging that war drum/
Redrum that come with sniffles, you know my gist/
Like a fist punch, you catching a fist/
Or a wind you can't resist, you catching my drift/
We were dropped in poverty, so death is inevitable/
I'm here to give you knowledge/
You can eat up like edibles/
The same knowledge that Satan gave to Adam and Eve/
That turned them into God's, deprived them of Heaven's stool/
So to all my fallen homies, you will rise again/
Real homies don't die, we only multiply/
Rise and come together, we never divide/
Reverse domino effect, we fall and bounce back up/
Mass incarceration, population control/
Psychological warfare, brain washing the soul/
Homies don't have a chance, we are fallen/
We are only remembered by loved ones and homies/
That's why I'm pouring out this liquor every Sundays/
Locked up or in a grave, is the only way they want us/
Guns, drugs and money is our only components/
The government and the system is our only opponent/
Dark clothes, dark clouds is how we live our lives/
When we're mourning, depressed in our daily vibes/
We keep on living, regardless we won't ever give up/
RIP to the fallen homies that went back to dust/
Remember then back then?
Remember what we said back then?
A promise that we all did make
To take what we knew to the grave
Remember what I did for you?
Remember the bullet I hit for you?
For you so you could still be there
look at me
Now you need to look at me right here
Don't try to avoid my stare
You remember back then; you were there!
You sold us all out today
We carried you for miles and miles
We tried to alleviate your pain
We protected you from the wind and rain
We gave you our food and our drink
To get you to the evac' we risked
Everything we had to risk
Look at what you've done to us
Look at what's to become of us
Because you could make a few quid
Telling them our story you did
To save yourself and make a few quid
Sold your old boys out you did
Good luck because you won't get so far
Remember what we do, remember what we are
A few years will soon go by
Incarceration to us is just dead time
Remember what we are
One day your screams will echo under the stars
I'm only 15 so tell me why you're tempted?
Knowing I'm underage and my actions can't be consented
I'm a jail sentence and a life on a registry.
Are you willing to risk your freedom for a single night with me?
Thats hilarious.
That question never crossed your mind.
I wish I had been smarter and that I could take back time.
I had a fetish..
I liked being the bait for predators in silent temptation,
I liked being in an embrace that could lead to their incarceration.
I liked knowing...
They were willing to throw their life away for me.
Not only did it hurt but it fueled their Illigal fantasies.
I was problematic.
I was toxic to my core.
No matter how much I hated myself I always wanted more.
I keep messages and pictures of
Those who I'd chosen.
Knowing what they are yet their names forever unspoken.
I promised to keep it secret and that promise I shall keep.
Even when he looked conflicted as he dropped me to my knees.
Men knowing better. Men in places of power.
Men far too old for me in a 3 am shower.
I have issues exactly as they seem...
I liked being a pedofiles dream.