Long Mafia Poems

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


A Girl From Cherbourg

A girl in Cherbourg 

We sat in a bar in Cherbourg a town still struggling after a war 
to become just another French coastal town
Sitting with mates from the ship can be tedious, and if you
happen to be a cook, someone is bound to voice a complaint
I went for a walk, in streets, with few lamps if one adds rain
it was a road suffering after a long war.
In the murk, a place of light, a small café/shop, a few tables
looked inviting in its simplicity; I had coffee and calvados.
A filly came prancing in, tall with long legs, full of youth
Sat down at my table; I asked if she was hungry, and she was
and ate a big plate of stew.
As things are in life, we sharing a bed for the night.
While she was busy preparing the bed, I sat in a chair thinking 
about a short story by Hemingway
about a boxer who owned money to the mafia, and they
were out to kill him, he was tired of running.
I tried to alter the sad ending, but must have fallen asleep, when
waking it was five in the morning, I had to get back 
to the ship, my day started at six.
I had a coffee and a calvados to sustain me she the filly
ate a baguette; saw her dance down the street, followed
by the morning breeze promising her a life of happiness.
© Jan Hansen  Create an image from this poem.


What Becomes of Crazy Mixed Up Kids Fifty Years On

They become crazy mixed up elderly he-goats.

I am in part a Protestant,
In part I am a Jew,
But then I am a Catholic,
on off-days an atheist, too.

I’m something of a socialist
and pay my union dues
from well-laundered Mafia funds.
Psst! Have you got your share, too?

If they’d put me down in Ulster,
I’d have blown my brains out with a gun,
Just to keep ‘em guessing
Which faction in me won.

You can call me all the names you like.
A Prot, a wop, a yid.
In earlier days I used to be
a crazy mixed-up kid.
And I sure  am still baffled
by this crazy mixed-up world,
and don’t expect enlightenment
ere my winding sheet is furled.
That is, I'd like to know
Before the day I die.

Which part of me is all the rest,
And which part of me is I?
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member THE CONVOY OF TERRORISTS THREATS

THE MANY DEATH THREATS PERHAPS SINCE CHRISTMAS DAY 1984 THESE THREATS CONTINUED EVEN RIGHT BEFORE THE CAR BOMB IGNITED MY FACE WITNESS ON LICENSE PLATES MY FATE WITNESSING THE PLOTTING OF ARSON MURDER OF 8 ELDERLY PERSONS PERHAPS 1998 HOMELESS PERISHED IN THE FIRE OVER THE CONTENTS OF THE TAILOR SHOP RESULTED IN VICTIM 9 MY WITNESSING THE PLOTTING OF GARGANO ARSON MURDERS OF 9 RESULTED IN A CONVOY OF THREATS BULLYING I DON'T BELIEVE MAFIA LEADERS LIKE JOHN GOTTI EVER HAD A CONVOY OF TERRORIST THREATS NO MATTER HOW MANY BODIES SAMMY THE BULL SAID HE KILLED FOR JOHN GOTTI THE CONVOY MASSIVE TERRORIST THREATS LIKE BEING IN PARIS IN FRONT OF A SHOP AWAITING YOUR DEATH TO BE CARRIED OUT YOU HAVE ENEMIES HIRED TO BLOW YOUR BRAINS OUT ESPECIALLY AFTER THE FIRE CHEIF HELPED TO COVER THE MURDERS ONLY TO HAVE VICTIM 9 BRINING THIS HORRID HORRID MURDERS CLOSER INTO VIEW DEATHS THREATS OF BURNING US ALIVE VERY ODD STOP SENDING TERRORISTS THREATS STOP INTIMIDATING TERRORISTS THREATS IT'S TRULY SAD CIRO JUST STOP WHY ARE YOU TERROZING MY FAMILY OVER THOSE 9 PEOPLE WHO PERISHED IN THOSE FIRES OF HELL 9 PERSONS ON OXYGEN MACHINES I DON'T FEAR YOUR TERRORISTS THREATS ITS VERY HARD DRAINING READING YOUR DEATH THREATS I WORE WIRES PREGNANT FOR THE FBI BUYING WEAPONS AND DRUGS FROM YOUR JUNK SICK OFFICERS HIRED AS SECURITY WHILE YOU BURNED PEOPLE ALIVE STARTLING I SURVIVED THAT DEADLY BOMB IGNITED MY FACE  JUST COVER YOUR EYE BABY 30 SECONDS OF TICKING
Form: Naat

Finding Kate

I'm a retired policeman
Could find the hidden clue
Became a detective for hire
Gave me something to do.

Got a text from a man named Mark
looking for a friend named Kate.
Wanted me to overturn each stone
and to find her city, state.

I remembered Celia
The woman I'd lost
We'd broken up and gone our ways
And then I felt the cost.

So I thought I understood
What Mark was trying to do
I wanted to do all I could
To make that love renew.

He knew what she went to school for
What town she lived in then
But that was 40 years or more
No more clues, where, what, or when.

I tried to locate this dame
But it was very hard.
So long ago, a school, a name
Lots of wrong turns to discard

I sent him photos to his phone
They all shared her name
He was uncertain, didn't know
My searching seemed in vain

Then I stumbled on something,
A detail and a thread,
Followed it and finally
Was sure where it led.

Told him I could call her
Give a message he could write
Then the plot got thicker
It got me real uptight.

He said he'd leave her alone
She wasn't really his old flame
Knowing her was traumatic
Knowing her was pain.

He said that she's in Utah
Not where he thought she'd be
He'd been wrong on his deductions
had left reality.

I thought he was crazy, 
sorry I had located Kate
Hoped I hadn't done harm
Hoped it wasn't too late

I sent a message to her
Explained what Mark had tried
She laughed it off uncertainly
But underneath she cried.

Mark texted me again
He said a Mafia gassed him through the air
I informed his local police
My duty, I had to share.

Mark's madness remains
He wants to save you too
He warns of drugs that change the brain
The man has gone cuckoo.

As for me I'm now a painter
Draw pictures by the sea
Leaving PI was a no-brainer
Can't do harm with artistry.
© Gem Stone  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Lyric

Littleton

People live, 
and people die. 
We're all human, 
so why do innocent the fry?

Innocent people die, 
day after day. 
While the killers run loose, 
and inside we pray.

We're even afraid, 
to go to school. 
Cause of all the killings, 
and the kids that duel.

We are taught to be kind, 
and to tell the truth. 
But no-one believes us, 
unless we have proof.

What reasons do they have, 
to just go and kill? 
They're people too, 
who love and feel.

There must have been something, 
in their lives to go wrong.
Cause the Trenchcoat Mafia, 
wasn't a movie or song.

How long can we take this, 
how much blood will be shed? 
Think of all the hate in them, 
and the words that were said.

What about all of, 
the poor lost souls? 
Their family's lives, 
will never be whole.

Adults must stop and listen, 
to the childrens plea. 
Stop these mass killings, 
so we're not scared to run free.

We don’t want to hide, 
we don't want to run. 
Now let us pray a moment, 
for the lost souls of Littleton.

DEDICATED TO: The people that died in the Littleton Massacre and their families.
Written: April 30, 1999
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Power Has Many Mistresses



Sanity is the domain of the intellectual
Those who lack intellect are indeed insane
The ultra-rich are happy because they feel
It is their birthright, the poor are too
Preoccupied with their struggle
To have to do anything with vanity

The healthy believe they have found the Elixir of life
In moments of depression, 
The diseased feel they are a spent force
Those in power believe it lasts for a lifetime
And, therefore, will do anything to stretch their lifespan
The wealthy believe they can acquire power

The powerful realize they can amass wealth
Those who have both feel they are
The God of all things living
And the world must bow to them with reverence
The mafia lord chuckles, he’s the one the world must fear
He can be arrested by the police chief

The orders must come from above,
The minister who is a politician
However, the politician takes orders from
The mafia lord to remain in power
Both have a weakness,
They are the disciples of a ‘Miracle Godman’ Baba
Who has received much of their wealth in donations, and
Has a relentless grip and spiritual control over them

Baba has sprawling ashrams and uncountable fanatic
Followers who will kill or be killed at his behest, but Baba
Will make policy decisions only after consulting his secret
Mistress who has a hold over the Baba,
She keeps herself from the unforgiving spotlight

One disciple who is close to the mistress knows this little secret
Baba’s mistress is squeezed by this disciple who keeps
Blackmailing her but is afraid he might be eliminated
Before he can escape from the grave he has dug for himself
But escaping is not an option as his beautiful young wife is
In the clutches of the charming womanizer, Baba
It somehow appears all have lost their sanity

The poor man sleeps not in the bed but under it
With just one thought, what will tomorrow bring?
© MB Farookh  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Marie Gargano Combs of Black Town Fort Myers Wings of Ashes

Remembering a granddaughter good times of Kentucky bourbon visits back home a doting father Pete Pete Lil Pete the many flowers planted I always chose the yellow ones these were for friendship sheer loss Gargano loss father mother daughter granddaughter not to mention the empty graves used for show when ever a Gargano fakes his death another violent offenders get their wings early released from prison from Mexico to Venezuela the many organised crime figures burning veterans alive torching homeless persons alive in Chicago the arson murders hidden while today I remember asiL Marie Gargano combs standing still unable to fly with wings of ashes life shortened by mafia vengeance car bombs fires explosions meets flowers the yellow ones saints and sinners greets on burning angel wings perched over black town fort Myers Florida Andersen ave.
Form: Nonet

Premium Member Toilet Paper Mafia

At this time, I would like to thank 
Chairman Xi and Chairman Fauci
For injecting that golden virus into my life.

I get plenty of overtime, although some of my coworkers have died. 
I'm not much of a people person, so the social distancing isn't a problem.
I actually prefer 6 miles between myself and the nearest person.
I'm pretty plain, so the mask has been a significant gain.
I'm enjoying the wide-open roads and spaces.
I don't do the shopping, so I don't have to battle
the gas-gulping gangs nor the toilet paper mafia.
Truth is I'm flourishing although many are rattled.

When this gain-of-function charade comes to an end.
America and the rest of the FREE world
will come out stronger than ever-
The power players and billionaires- 
will be overexposed and hopefully disposed of.
The gene pool is going to run a little leaner and cleaner.
As they say, only the strong are deemed worthy to survive.

P.S. Thank you, Xi, for your viral dream for mankind.
Now, if you would let your people vote, you might win the Nobel Peace Prize.

Hitch Hiking Tales Part Two

Next day 
A beautiful woman 	
Drove me to near Chicago 
In a red mustang 

Might have been 
The girl in the song 
Took it easy 
Digging her vibe 

She invited home 
But was not sure 
If her estranged husband 
Would welcome me 

So, I am being foolish 
And inexperienced with women 
Did not go to her place 

And always regretted 
That I had lost 
My chance that day 

Then on to Chicago 
Several rides later 
Visited friends 

Hit the road again 
A series of uneventful rides 
With truckers 
And others 

And a week later 
I ended in New York City 

Slept along the way 
In cars 
In truck stops 
In high way rest stops 

Always moving 
Always going 
None stop talking 
And lots of free weed 
And beer 
And conversation 

One more memorable ride 
Occurred outside Albany 
On my return to Chicago 

A middle age creepy looking man 
Picked me up 
In a brand-new Cadillac 

He was he said a dynamite deliverer 
For the Mafia 
Went to various places 
To blow up **** 

He hated a lot of people 
Particularly hippies from California 
And Jewish people 

Looking at me to confirm 
That I was both 

I told him that I lived in New York 
And had never been to California 
And although I might have looked Jewish 
As I what was called back in the day 
A “Jewfro” 

I was not Jewish 
Many years later I discovered 
That I am indeed part Jewish 
But then I did not know 
And I felt a bit of strategic information 
Might keep me alive 

Then I realized that he was just jiving with me 
And we relaxed 
And he pulled out some weed 
And beer 
And we mellowed out 

But I believe that he really was with the mob 
Perhaps not a dynamite dealer 
A real made Italian made mafia member 

By Chicago 
I had enough 
I called my Dad 
Told him what had happened 

Wanted a ticket home 
And he sent me a ticket 
And 500 dollars 
And I went home 

I told him I would tell him 
My tales some day 
But never did 

I learned so much 
About my fellow Americans 
And the strange vibe 
That was 1975 

And now it is too late 
But I wanted to finally 
Tell the world 

Of my hitchhiking tales 
In search of America 1975 

end part two  check out my poetry blog https://theworldaccordingtocosmos.com for this and other poems
© Jake Aller  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member DISABLED VETERANS BEWARE

DISABLED VETERANS BEWARE BE 
CAUTIOUS DATA BREACHES HACKING 
INTO DISABLED VETERANS AND THEIR 
FAMILY INCLUDING BURIAL INFORMATION 
MY FAMILY WAS HACKED HOME BROKEN 
INTO JAY TOWNSEND JOHNSON HENRY 
MY STALKER TAKING MEDICATIONS 
ATTEMPTING TO IMPERSONATE ME 
WHILE CIRO GARGANO IMPERSONATES 
MY DISABLED SPOUSE ATTEMPTING 
TO EXTORT MEDICAL TREATMENT FOR 
ORGANIZED CRIME MEMBERS SEATED 
WITH CIRO GARGANO ARSON MURDER
OF 9 TERRORIST THREATS USING DISABLED
VETERANS TO TREAT HITMEN KILLERS 
RETIRED MAFIA MEMBERS TRULY SAD 
BEING A DISABLED FAMILY WE ARE IN 
SHAMBLES BUT WE HAVE GOD OUR 
SUPPORT GROUPS VETERANS HELPING 
VETERANS AND THEIR FAMILIES MY PRAYERS 
ARE WITH ANY VETERAN SUFFERING AS 
WE EMBRACE HEART ATTACKS THE STRESS OF
KNOWING SOMEONE HAS HACKED INTO 
YOUR HEALTHCARE IN AMERICA JUST STOP 
SENDING BLACKMAIL THREATS EXTORTION 
THREATS BULLYING INTIMIDATION VICTIMAZATION 
OF DISABLED VETERANS AND THEIR FAMILIES

GOD BLESS AMERICA STAY SAFE
STOP THREATENING MY LIFE INTERFERING 
WITH MEDICAL TREATMENT FUNDING RETIRED 
KILLERS SENDING BLACKMAIL THREATS EXTORTION 
THREATS BULLYING INTIMIDATION VICTIMIZATION 
OF DISABLED VETERANS AND THEIR FAMILIES

USA
Form: Haibun

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