Long Life sentence Poems
Long Life sentence Poems. Below are the most popular long Life sentence by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Life sentence poems by poem length and keyword.
Back and forth the monkey paces
Alone is his small backyard cage.
He did not make his cramped cage,
But the small cage makes him.
Far away, he sees children in a park
Running free and laughing.
He also sees birds flying free
And singing far from his small cage.
But in his barred cramped world,
He can only take short paces
Then swing rhythmically back and forth,
Back and forth, among the bars,
From day to day and year to year.
The monkey does not laugh or sing,
And no one plays with him.
Long ago, when he was young,
He ran free in a jungle with his brothers.
But now, he only takes short paces
Then swings back and forth,
And back and forth,
Waiting for a solitary death
That may not come for years.
by: Poet destroyer
I investigated many poems today
Friendly people on this (Love Boat)
Everybody different in their own way
The evidence I found is hidden in every poetry line
Mysteriously, one poet comes from (Fantasy Island)
I am filing charges on the lady
Who welcomes you to the soup
Leaves you a comment, without reading your identity
Today I read a report on the supernatural.
Billies demons vs' (Charlies Angels.)
Investigating a woman who poets you advise, gee's how nice
I will give her a ticket, for making me feel guilty as can be
How about the clown who does not wear a rubber nose.
He puts on a show with his pen and paper (THAT IS TALENT)
He is using his ego another way
He makes us laugh, with one whip of his Belt
I will not release the name on the depressing poem I read
For her, I will stop traffic, and move everyone out of her rain
Her words made my heart bleed
A warrant goes out to the girl who used too much imagination.
I actually got to see tongues to tongue vividly.
I will never ticket the poet queen
Murder she wrote and got away,
I do not know who is the John Doe I found today.
I will be reading his poetry file.
To make sure, he is not misleading this investigation.
I also confiscated an old antique or two
Unique skills found in their retired war shoes
I did my undercover work on a serial killer case on the soup.
That is one report I did not want to picture
I hope the writer will bargain for a life sentence
In a paradise so Green.
I will soon end my file, and turn in my report about Big Foot
After I arrest them ladies who write about butterflies
It is against the law to lead us on a goose chase
We are nowhere near (A highway to heaven)
I have to go join a (S.W.A.T.) team.
To raid the aliens who invade (The little house on the prairie)
I call this group the (A team)
You know A-liens team who you are.
Someone just posted bail
For the girl who blinded us all
She wore her neon converse a straight ticket to jail
I am on a manhunt locating a molester
Every time she is spotted in a pick out line
She comes back and deletes her trade
Erasing her only profile, just to edit all over again
This coming from a crooked cop, (Magnum)P D
Reporting live on the poetry soup
What a sick monster of a man creeping
around with no morals ramming sick agendas
Inside twisted ideas down peoples throats
All the time smiling in his deeply disturbed soul
paying his thirty pieces for the ferry man
Your entry unto the devilish domain
He disguises himself falsely as caring about people
when the suffering lie on trolleys unattended
As the homeless keep rising
Selling off state owned assets without consent
from the nation he should be prosecuted
under high treason of the state
Face the life sentence appropriate to such crime
Under the eighth ammendment our nations law
was passed and still stands tall
We are the land of saints and scholars
A generation of God's seed
We will not be involved in such a disgusting pact
One with blood as it's signature
which has been addressed by this countries kin
in the constitution clearly written as an unlawful act
He should be imprisoned to have such a biast mind
closed to the reality of home truth against the living in God's holy book
his only written words arc of his seed and covenant
*Image of Tony Dow by News.
AUDIO
VIDEO of 500 Miles by Peter, Paul & Mary
Take Care Wally Cleaver
Wally: Watch the hair!
My faculties are under arrest!
I have been subpoenaed by a Board of Inquiry!
Namely, Mr. & Mrs. Parents of OMgoodness Boy!
Begins the questioning! (blah, blah, blah)
Ward: WHY!
Retorts!
Wally: But dad (blah, blah, blah)
Empathetic.
June: Well, why not?
In-kind.
Wally: Well, mom (blah, blah, blah)
Backroom deliberations begin!
Ward: Ohh! Don't give me that look!
June: But my dear he's just a kid?
Ward: I'll even accept the concept of a Billy the outlaw
as there is some hopeful measure of action,
good or bad, but that's not the conclusion you're
drawing is it, sweetheart?
June: I know I've been turning my back on this, and
once I've turned around, there you are, not a
happy camper, our families, friends, and
neighbors, are all staring back at me, so I've
decided to let you deal with him and I'll stand
by whatever the ruling you decide to enact.
Ward: Well, Mr. OMgoodness, we hereby sentence you
to collect all of your electronic devices and game
cartridges and put them in a large box, then
you're going to clean your room, the garage,
and the yard, then mow the lawn, rake the yard,
then water the plants, after you're done, take a
shower and come down for dinner.
Wally: Wow, that's what an execution feels like.
Ward: No, think of it as a life sentence.
Wally: (sigh!)
June: We love you, honey.
Wally: I know that mom.
Ward: Oh, and by the way, I want to see your computer
keyboard in that box and I'll come around when
you're showering to lock it up in the attic.
(Later that night)
Ward: Good night son.
Wally: Good night dad.
June: Good night honey.
Wally: Good night mom.
(Bedroom doors close, and a computer light comes
on as a young MIT wannabe, clicks on settings and
presses "Online Keyboard")
Whatta day! Brutal, just ... brutal!
It'll be a long night ...
Good night Beav!
2022 July 27
With Ma Lil Nude Dill
one bilabial fricative smacking
tongue thrusting (lizard like)
indefatigable prelapsarian
Garden of Eden dwelling primate
doth pine with two lipped treating zest
for Eve fun juiced a tasty droplet, wrest
ting kitty meowing Mz er loo,
sans verboten fruit Yukon die vest
via jump starting
a hovering damn
electric kool aid acid test
Hair and there, a bare naked lady attired
in her birthday suit, the sexiest
plump bosom roseate
sear suckered nipples trickling milky nectar
when casting shadowed umbra at rest
thirsting, unleashing, vaunting,
et cetera viz prurient quest,
whereby this rambunctious
horny bull lever severely oppressed
condemned with life sentence
of penile solitude, nest
souled (sorely testing
agonizing Victorian modest
tee primly and properly
tortures carnal temptation lest
surrendering syllabus "C" ) even jest
a jot, cuz tis pure torture restraining
feral, hormonal, integral hankering
to stoke libido at Parochialism be hest
thus, aye feel unfairly deprived,
no hello kitty will be guest
unsure how helpful "getting off my chest"
works thee unnatural tethered
sexual suppression, perhaps best
left unmentioned, encumbered
with jiggly, flabby droopy breast
works, and unwanted love handles
state of reined swiftly tailored
harried stylishly groomed
FitBit bridled uncertainty I attest.
Momma I'm sorry for my part on that night, when I carried a gun and man lost his life, If
I could go back there and change it I would, I was out of my head momma, I was high on
some drugs, it was meant to be simple just to score some weed, but it turned into a
bloodshed, likes I never have seen, I did'nt do it, though I admit to my part, I was
stunned as I heard all the gun fire start, there were five of us momma with a gun in our
hands, and with a bullet sent flying and that boy hit the ground, I was 17 momma a kid
thinking he's grown, how I wish I had listened when you'd say leave those Gangs alone!
I remember at 13 selling crack on the streets, and the times in a basement where the Gang
used to meet, why did'nt I listen, why could'nt I see that a life sentence in prison was
waiting for me?
Now as I sit here 13yrs behind bars, for what momma fast women and cars? I try daily momma
come to terms with whats done, but one thing is your mind from that you can't run!
Then it finally happened the Lord heard my cries, he sent Julie Momma to come be by my
side, who could imagine this happening to me, and that it all was foretold in that book
'Tapestry'!
We went to a prison many years ago,
Prisoners were everywhere looking sad I saw,
I met a man but I forgot his name,
One friend introduced me to him.
His case was attempted rape,
In a faraway land he was not safe,
Coz’ nobody believed in his story,
Language barrier he felt so sorry.
The police sensationalized the case,
The parents want him to put in a life sentence,
Even with valid and strong evidences,
they want three million for their daughter's sake.
The witnesses explained the incidents truthfully,
The family of the accused prayed hopefully,
Lawyers said nothing to be afraid nothing to worry,
But after three months of waiting the court said he was guilty.
It’s like a bomb the hits the man on that day,
He asked himself.. where is GOD to protect him anyway?
His emotions and his mind was in deep misery.
He looked around to everyone and cried wearily.
This was the result if you were not in your own country,
They can twisted evidences and labelled you deceitful,
Many cases like this everywhere and around the world,
They are the victims and wrongfully imprisoned.
How can we achieved justice in this situation?
If your world end up in a square empty room?
Great loneliness and the feeling of being abandon.
Maybe just wait for a miracle, a royal pardon soon?
I envision no romantic, grease-splattered engineer
Overseeing the direction of my particular train.
It just follows the course of the tracks laid down
Within the fractal flow of nature’s symmetry.
It curiously transports me from one sad affair to another,
Depending on which Chiquita happens to be turning my head.
My destination has always been inclined to speculation.
I have lived one singular life, but died many lonely deaths along the way.
My travels through this landscape of consciousness and self-awareness
Have often brought me to untimely terminals, via various means of derailment.
There have been lethal infections, and numerous fatal diseases,
An airplane and a helicopter crash, a murder, a head-on collision,
A tragic skydiving mishap, many bad storms at sea,
A life sentence in a Kenyan prison, overdoses from unwise decisions.
I’ve driven off a cliff at dawn and had a cardiac arrest.
But after each deadly incident, I somehow awoke to a better world.
Wrought iron spikes hammered to a hard-driven finish
Hold the rails in place until that one comes loose on the curve.
When my train gets derailed, I just begin again, and yet again,
Recycling intentions, re-establishing severed connections.
Over the years, I’ve come to realize that the final death I'll face
Will only involve some little discomfort, perhaps just a deep, sweet ache.
I can lay to rest whatever fears my unfinished dreams may embrace,
And look forward to greeting a better world when next I awake.
As someone once said, you’ll not appreciate the full extent
Of life’s train wreck till you get far enough away from it.
Then you can take in the whole awe-inspiring picture and say,
Holy ghost and good goddam, that was surely one memorable trip.
"Honeysuckle"
"life is just peachy"
this is what she said
I was considering
her nonchalance
how can people
be all sunny side up
this late in the day
when roses have thorns
and seersucker’s dead
my side was covered
in Winter shadows
I was considering
all this and more
when he came walking
through my door…beaming
like the Sun
Smiling like he knew me
Not knowing I was on the run
from another life
packing a loaded gun
I poured forth a counterfeit smile
“Honeysuckle’s heavy on the bough”
he came up close, too close, to miss
“Here they’re beautiful, I picked these just for you”
He hesitated
I returned the kiss,
kind of swift
I’m thinking
How to replace a life sentence with Senryu
My mind’s full of bees that sting
Words are locked and loaded
Trust is the thing
that’s missed
Bees love honeysuckle
my mind is rust eroded
He puts some music on,
moves towards me,
his slinky Summer skin all hot
his slender fingers moving
my hair behind my ears whispers
music and poet's notes
my oh my, what big gentle hands he’s got
“come on babe, let’s dance to this”
my belly’s tied in knots
seduction
bees forgot
(LadyLabyrinth/2019)
“Licence my roving hands, and let them go
Before, behind, between, above, below.”
n.b.
le cadeau de moi à toi ... je souris
“He’ll progress toward retrogression…”
such was neuro-pediatrician's lamentable diagnosis
grievous… torturous life sentence!
What a woeful condemnation...
...yet marvelous life’s persistence
our special child should never miss
while enjoying love’s wondrous bliss.
Though he is epileptic
midst gestures obviously spastic
his disposition --- jubilant
radiates cheerfully triumphant.
With thanksgiving gesture’s delight
marking faith of ascending height
he shows notable progress-might
in conversation endeavor
along comprehension fervor
revealing wondrous miracles
defying doubtful manacles.
Now, as a handsome fourteen-year old* lad
he praises the Lord Who blesses
in his wheel-chair’s trip, daily glad
to victory,** he progresses.
*He was born on April 28, 2009
**1Corinthians 15:57 But thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.
January 11, 2020
*Edited on January 11, 2024
7th place, "A fairytale or not, Short story poem" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Fire Bird; judged on 1/22/2024.
Original Title: Progress Victorious
Honorable Mention, "STRAND no 660,any theme, any form" Poetry Contest Sponsored by Brian Strand; judged on 1/30/2020.