Long Jailed Poems
Long Jailed Poems. Below are the most popular long Jailed by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Jailed poems by poem length and keyword.
Here's a bit of trivia from World War Two I'll bet you didn't know,
Concerning the war-time Prime Minister of Japan, Hideki Tojo of Tokyo.
After the war hapless Hideki was jailed in Tokyo's Sugamo Prison,
Where he was given a new set of dentures 'cause he was losing his'n.
A waggish American dentist, determined to make a lasting 'impression',
Etched on Tojo's choppers in Morse Code this immortal expression:
'REMEMBER PEARL HARBOR" - 'Twas America's stirring battle cry!
He eternally gnashes his teeth in perdition after he was hanged to die!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved
True Story!!!
Two genders
when we were toddlers, we played in the sandbox
and hide and seek, we didn't think about whose
gender we were
a few years later, the girls refused to play with
us boys, we were too active climbing walls
and they went back, playing with dolls, I presume
doing needleworks
A few years later, we realized they were girls
they strutted down the street arm-in-arm
haughty as one gets
Near them were silent, blushed like the girls
knew what we were thinking
When one of the boys confessed he had kissed
a girl we were impressed by his daring
But "small kettles have ears." I had overheard
the adults, talking about two seamstresses
living together, giggling about who was the man
I didn't know, at the time, what they were
talking about
People, nature had made different were called
funny people, no one cared that if they were
not men were called perverts, condemned
they had to move somewhere no one knew them
a difficult life
I'm glad to say we are more at ease with men
liking men
The thing is, there are only two genders, regardless
of tendencies, nature had made them
It is about biology; there are no third genders
when I hear children are given puberty bloggers also
surgery in some instances is performed, my blood boils with anger
you see, if an unfortunate boy has surgery, he is
biologically masculine, people who do this to
other people should be prosecuted and jailed
PS
I have deliberately avoided words like
and , as they didn't exist in my working class
childhood
How could he honestly tell anyone
Who would actually believe him
A strong confident young man
Smiling on the outside ….petrified within
Excuses made for the obvious ones
With casual jest and smiles
Yet , it was so far from the truth
By a million miles
He absolutely adored her
In the beginning…it was so good
There had been a few incidents
She apologised….of course he understood
It drastically changed when they moved in together
She started to take control
Alienated now from family and friends
She became the destroyer of his soul
He was no longer good enough
She screamed, punched, spat and kicked
Emasculated and humiliated him
He never retaliated during conflict
She abused and battered his body and spirit
Afterwards claiming she would change
Embarrassed, isolated and depleted
He just stayed time and again
Neighbours called the police
A loud domestic was in progress
Police arrived to an alarming scene
One of agonising screams and extreme distress
She had poured boiling water
Over his legs while he slept
Just because he wouldn’t get up
Her idea of disrespect
She was jailed for many years
He finally felt free
His scars a visual reminder
To remain, strong, whole and in himself ‘believe’
Screams, Screeches, groans and wails
Let me tell you Agonies’ tales
And of bullets, bombs and pellet guns
For a person with Heart must know these pains
Here somewhere, kids are blinded; men are jailed
Women are molested; the old are tortured
Lucky, You have a home and a steak to fry
Billions starve and sleep under the frigid Sky
The wild jungles of wars scrambled Humanity
Sighs took over the the throne of sweetest Melody
Deluges of tears washed off the rainbows of joy
Atrocities eager for innocent lives to get destroy
Yet you say the world is beautiful.. ?
That it is benign and bountiful...?
May be yes, for you… as you are at peace!
Come out of your little Palace...
And you will find...
Sky painting itself red...!
Butterflies renouncing their dreams
Birds with trimmed wings
Blood ocean... barren trees... burnt houses...
Teared eyes... and shattered bodies….
People live their lives in fear everywhere
Along Syria, Yemen, Palestine and Kashmir
Earth is ugly, jinxed and savage
For humanity sobs, as her soul is damaged
26-7-20 (Paghunda)
(This was my first poem on soup, reposted it with some changes)
A father jailed for life,
A sentence to serve...
I should visit him? On my time?
Can you believe the nerve?
A dingy outcast of a woman,
Pushing her home in a cart...
If I got involved,
She might tear my life apart.
A mother with cancer,
Wasting away...
Nothing I could give,
Would change where she lay.
With their clothes on their back,
Their home destroyed overnight...
They will get the help they need,
Others have given to their plight.
A child out of place,
Quivering and wailing in fear...
I might be accused of wrong-doing,
If I draw too near.
A senior with a cane,
Struggling with a door...
If I intervene,
I might need to do more.
Another John Doe,
No next of kin...
His death passes by,
Sparking nothing within.
An immigrant in the grocery line,
With tender five dollars short...
She doesn't even understand English,
You'd think she'd know how to sort.
Love not gifted,
Cannot be amassed...
Only in parting,
Can we enlighten the yoke of the past.
While history is set,
The future is yet to be presented...
Life without love,
Can only be prevented.
Love often, Love now,
In every action, thought, and deed...
We cannot find true pleasure,
When embraced with our greed.
Voiced or unvoiced, felt or unfelt,
Heard or unheard, seen or unseen...
The gift of love makes a difference,
To any and all in-between.
Injustice, a tale as old as time,
Echoes through the ages, a perpetual crime.
From Amos' scriptural cry to traditional Ifa's call,
The holy Quran and Bible, too, denounce injustice's thrall.
Yet, why do people struggle to uphold what's right?
The wealthy steal millions, but negotiate their plight.
No punishment, no sentence, just a slap on the wrist,
While the poor, with nothing to offer, are crushed, and their lives, dismissed.
In African lands, innocent souls are jailed each day,
Their freedom, a luxury, they cannot afford to pay.
A young man's fate, a stark reminder of this cruel plight,
Sentenced to death for stealing a fowl, 14 years of endless night.
His parents, worn by grief, their hearts, a heavy burden bear,
Their son, a victim of injustice, with no one to care.
How did we sink so low? Who'll rise to right this wrong?
I've said it before, and I'll say it again: the poor must unite, and be strong.
United, they can challenge the predators in human disguise,
And fight against injustice, with a collective, courageous cry.
As a father I’ve failed
I should have been jailed
My kids are not happy
The blame’s on their pappy
I pushed them too hard
left them with scars
On the surface they’re fine
underneath they are cryin’
If I only could've seen
what the future would’ve been
I’d have taken my foot off the pedal
and never have meddled
I'd have left things to mom
to the one who was calm
Instead of asserting myself
I'd have watched from the shelf...
But now I’m old and at home
and nearly alone
My kids, out of touch
I miss them so much
Clouds dim from a fevered night
bare as skin of dragonflies trapped,
and she paces along tattered leaves strewn
on barbed fences of life moaning
through a distant breeze: yet the candle
burns inside her heart to feed
dire hunger of jailed souls....
There,this bruised woman circles around
in a furnace of hope...on a barren lane
where mangled sparrows cry in despise;
and the will to plod an inner odyssey rages,
searching for some need
to fill breaths of peace not only for herself
but for a biting desire to give women
and children a voice which honors plain dignity
violated and spit by vulgar words, alcohol,
shattered glass...enough!
her own pain hollers from the marrow,
the kind that flames the heavens and rain.
pick the ending- 1 or 2 and any comments
standing at the bus stop chilled to the bone
just now realizing he was all alone
everything in his life had been destroyed
when he lost his little boy.
a father who is single trying to make it in this life
no family members and no wife.
his sons life had been taken by a drunk driver that day
when he sped through a red light
as he tried to get out of its way.
too many memories does he face-that he has to leave this place.
so many memories flood his mind
as he thinks what could he have done if he had the time.
the driver has convicted of drunk driving but not jailed
the judicial system to him had failed.
his son was dead and his life was shattered
nothing in this life ' now mattered'.
#1- two years had passed and he would now get revenge
the life this driver knew would soon end.
he staggered out of the bar and headed to his car
when the sledge hammer hit him across his knee
then another blow on the other knee, as he started to scream.
two more blows on each leg, and on the ground he would stay.
stuck in a wheel chair for the rest of his life
he's now paid the ultimate price.
or #2
he prayed every day for justice for his son
this man was still drinking and driving
and nothing being done.
the question always entering his mind
is this judicial system so doggone blind?
why wasn't this man taken off of the streets
are they waiting for more bodies in a crumpled heap.
yet! he always believed ' what goes around comes around'
and his justice will be found.
CONQUERING THE BLIND SCALES OF PATRIARCHY
Crystal cold are the pupils of some men
staring red to jailed porcelain dolls skin
dowered for the title of chastity,
your curves, your swell, they treated like machines.
You can be the light midst darkness, woman
yet why they see your body as gold mines,
your face displays no favor from their sight.
Fruits of labor you bring harvest nothing
your virginal flesh dead ere blossoming
suspended by sharp claws of ignorance?
Aged with grief but rising from conquered fears,
woman today shake white-walled home of kings
to trumpet-loud the darkness in her feet...
Wounded is her heart but still she will stand,
her message free flying high without wings
She will fight even with the threats of death
balancing blind scales of patriarchy,
Fears foregone, her bravery stifling pain,
peace and justice, equality to all
the rights for women her ever after toil!
______________________________________________________
Patriarchy - Poetry Contest
Sponsor Name - Thomas Martin
~~Placed 1st~~~
Olive Eloisa Guillermo
10:41 pm, July 16, 2015