Long Misdemeanors Poems
Long Misdemeanors Poems. Below are the most popular long Misdemeanors by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Misdemeanors poems by poem length and keyword.
Founding fathers believed in freedom of the press, religion, speech, assembly, and petition.
Opportunity must be opened to all.
United we stand and divided we fall.
Religious establishment by the government is prohibited.
Trial by jury is a constitutional right; taxation without representation is not.
High crimes and misdemeanors by the president are impeachable offenses.
Oligarchies(Rulership by 'the few') in America must never be allowed.
Freedom is not really free; it always cost us something.
Justice delayed is justice denied.*
Union of 50 states makes up The USA.
Liberty and Justice in America are for all.
Yielding to the will of the majority is the American way.
062220PS*Wilkipedia. Origin. There are conflicting accounts of who
first noted the phrase.#89 in Top 100 poems for the last month.
2 Timothy 4:3-4:4
For the time will come when men will not tolerate sound doctrine, but with itching ears they will gather around themselves teachers to suit their own desires. So, they will turn their ears away from truth and turn aside to myths.
The practitioners of “The Big Lie”
Election results, one must never decry
Let us examine some history
By which we’ll note the hypocrisy
Al Gore in 2000, Hillary in 2016
Stacy Abrams in Georgia did scream
How does one discern what is truth
The good book says examine the fruit produced
Thirty-two million for Mueller to investigate
Months of media claiming Trumps a reprobate
What did this produce folks
It was all a Democrat and media hoax
Impeachment over a phone call to Ukraine
No high crimes or misdemeanors was plain
Hunter’s laptop called Russian disinformation
January 6th labeled an insurrection
No guns, no bombs, not even pitchforks
Capitol Police acting as escorts
If you are unable to see rotten fruit
Providing more evidence is simply moot
Just know that Paul foretold it all
We need a revival, or America will fall
Everything I do seems to find a way to mock me.
A jeering derision to the paradox of my delicacy.
Each impulsive haste of emotion knocks on the wood of my wretch.
A doleful stimulation to invigorate the louse of my lassitude.
The inertia of my cunning shrewd howls against the odium of my filth.
Against the odium of my haste.
The odium of my humility.
And the odium of my unadulterated abhorrence.
I find myself comparing the speckled illustrations of my masked exploitation.
One of a noble morality.
One of a sinful salvation.
And one of the reprehensible dignity I carry within the reality of my reviled anatomy.
The reality of my depiction.
The reality of my void.
Every word of degradation invokes the ice of my celestial petition.
A celestial plead for an implosion so grave; it dares to uphold a cathedral of my indented dejection.
My fortitude of a sunken dejection.
My poverty of an exiled dejection.
My deception of a gouged dejection.
I am nothing but the prolonged corpus of my own vile vulgarity;
I am nothing but the corrupted potency of my own induced pallet;
I am nothing but the misdemeanour of my own cholerised pertinence.
Any good judge and jury would convict me
Slam the door shut, toss out the key
High crimes and misdemeanors in the first degree
Caught in cahoots with poetry
Armed with pen and paper in hand
Stealing from me all that I have
Until my muse says there's nothing left
Empty's the till inside my pounding head
I'll sing like a stool pigeon in the hot seat
In a police line up I'll point out the poetry
Say that's the one that did this to me
The one with the sly smile and rhyme in his teeth
I'll throw myself on the mercy of the court
Plead insanity as I cackle and cough
To tell the truth if you only knew
That last statement is not too far off
As his mind drifts upon silent shores of uncertainty,
he ponders what was, what is and what is yet to come.
He wonders why no one understands the pangs of his soul,
unsure if his thoughts are heard, as they float away with the wind.
Misdemeanors of his mind are plagued by battles within his heart,
deliberating whether the seed of his creed will bleed or succeed.
Before him lies a path infected by vermin devouring dead crows,
behind him a collection of unchallenged emotions from a forgotten childhood.
Silent One
25 June 2018
Example for eight lines of fate, when you wonder if it is too late
A minor typo found this fanatic spell binding hound to resend a poem posse sub bully dashed off in a huff (past the hour) if nothing else than fur his spurt full of peace, bot tee, and mind.
Thus this Norwegian bachelor wannabe (most closely aligned with said status closely attained unmarried state by pledging my Unitarian troth) tilled, sown, and furrowed spirit nsync with the missus sleeping in close proximity.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
dog tired this day - march 29th, 2018
no matter this dawg gone pup
took numerous one after another cat nap
his utterly fatigued
body electric still ragged
as if he went without sleep for a lifetime,
ensnared within a time warp,
espied that aggravating "aw SNAP"
(error code instead of a webpage
indicating Chrome happens to be
experiencing problems loading)
or, simultaneously
caught in a narcoleptic parent trap
thus, while a burst of energy
temporarily doth prevail
(a priori which extreme fatigue
of body, mind and spirit -
more troublesome, and worse than -
getting crucified
with a rusty nine inch nail
alleviated with deep sleep finds
much more tiredness
than usual quotidian sleepiness
bruiting this male)
being imprisoned (for high
gram matt tick crimes
and misdemeanors) such as: comma, splices,
dangling a modifier, splitting an infinitive,
unnecessary parenthesis (), et cetera
which landed me punctually,
proverbially, and squarely
in the slaammed shut jail
fed thin gruel with grubs that didst flail
nauseating pluperfect revulsion
each time hide exhale
which, many hours long rests did restore
for a bit of time only for totally tubular
exhaustion to come roar
ring back leaving me tour
charred as if...i fought in every major war.
The lady in the flowers
The lady in the flowers with the white cotton dress;
It flows behind her and clings to her, as she gathers her bouquet.
With her crown made from picked daisies, she looks like a Princess;
Her smile shines like a sun beam on the fourth of May.
In this magical place, we are lost no more; we are in love!
Good Heaven’s above, are sending signals to us.
As she dances through the tulips,
She is soft to the touch and receptive to my advances;
Ladies in lavender do not give second chances.
But she is truly forgiving all my misdemeanors;
She is a vision in white and I want to be dancing with her.
As the path made from patches of grass,
Leads us into a beautiful future;
I am at ease in this place of peace.
She passes through reeds and then I lose her!
She vanishes beneath the water and all I see is her waving goodbye.
Oh my! Where has she gone? I am screaming on the inside;
But as I dive in search of her, I find myself…
...in a wonder land.
I had never imagined that this dream could really have happened.
Into the water and through to the other side;
I climb out into her arms and again off she glides.
So once again I give kiss chase;
In case this time she is gone for good.
But she is never really leaving me;
She is just leading me to a place where we can be in love.
The leaves are multi-coloured
And this place has forever been hidden from all before.
She has welcomed me into her fantasy;
I can be a part of her world.
She skips through clear puddles
And in each of them I see my double.
I am a stranger on the inside
And I am rather befuddled.
But she is the fairy light I follow morning until night
And with all my might I shall become a part of her life.
Out into the clear, there is so much to see and to hear
And whenever she is near, blue birds suddenly appear.
A blanket is waiting next to a hamper for two.
We can rest now we have found each other…
Love is in bloom.
(C)2016 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Form:
Oh captcha squares, oh captcha squares
What are these objects in your frames?
Oh captcha squares, oh captcha squares
Why must they gotta be the same?
Cars and busses, traffic lights
Bicycles and motor bikes
Crosswalks, signs, and steps and stairs
Fire hydrants everywhere
Boats, planes and parking meters
Tickets, fines, misdemeanors
Why are you so fond of these?
Why are palms the only trees?
Oh captcha squares, oh captcha squares
The pictures trapped inside of there
Oh captcha squares, oh captcha squares
Depict a world so bleak and bare
Arid, bland, unaesthetic
Barren, drab, unpoetic
Sterile, cold, antiseptic
Unconcerned, apathetic
Somber, sad, and desolate
Woeful, bland, pedestrian
Weary, grim, dreary, hopeless
Grainy, gray, out of focus
It doesn’t need to be this way…
Many things could fill your squares
Why not fill these things in there?
Tambourines and castanets
Bass trombones and clarinets
English horns and piccolos
Harpsichords and xylophones
Fiddles high and Irish whistles
Jingle bells and finger cymbals
5-string banjos, mandolins
Saxophones, accordions
Desmond Tutu and Mandela
Cassius Clay, Cinderella
Charlemagne and Genghis Kahn
George and Ringo, Paul, and John
Twain and Edgar Allan Poe
Wayne and Brando and Monroe
Ida Wells, Frida Kahlo
Steinem, Parks, and Ferraro
River Thames and stormy seas
Winter wrens and bumble bees
Cyprus, ash, oak, fir, and pine
Sassafras, willow, and lime
Daffodils and magnolias
Marigolds and begonias
Cabbage, beets, and potatoes
Carrots, beans, and tomatoes
Oh Captcha Squares, Oh Captcha Squares
If your pictures must remain
Oh Captcha Squares, Oh Captcha Squares
How aboutcha change the frames?
Captcha circles, captcha suns
All the captcha olygons
Wiggly captcha twiggly lines
Twisty captcha twiny vines
Captcha diamonds, captcha hearts
Captcha clovers, moons, and stars
Captcha ribbons, Captcha lace
Captcha colored string bouquets
Oh Captcha Squares, Oh Captcha Squares
We understand you're here to stay.
Oh Captcha Squares, Oh Captcha Squares
Just be more creative, OK?
He was whisked away on a gurney - to begin his eternal journey,
To meet Saint Peter at the Golden Gate - to learn of his ultimate fate;
To strum with angels on the lyre - or be doomed to the lake of fire.
It depended if he'd been fairly nice - or had led a life of odious vice!
"I've read your rap sheet, my boy - so with Me try no devious ploy.
You're in a heap of trouble, son - a lawyer you may need ere this day is done!
Get in that line over yonder - while your borderline case I ponder.
Don't give my angels any sass - as I check the offenses you did amass!"
He'd tried to obey the Ten Commandments - without adding any amendments.
He must do something in a hurry - wondering whose favor he might curry.
He quizzed others who'd met their fate - on how to enter the Golden Gate.
They said if he had been good - his redemption was of more likelihood!
Saint Peter eyed the list - checking off items with a flick of His wrist.
Some misdemeanors he tossed aside - but felonies he could not abide.
Good and bad deeds were about fifty-fifty - but this guy was acting very shifty.
"It could be decided with a coin toss - but I'd rather refer this to The Boss!"
So with a not too gentle nudge - Pete led him to The Venerable Judge.
There he earnestly pled his case - his many transgressions to erase.
The Big Judge heard him out - tho' even He had some lingering doubt.
"Son, arise from the floor - Pete, you can let him enter The Door!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
WOULD YOU STILL LOVE ME--
Come here before me my love darling love, would you still love me?
Would you still love me if I were improvised?
Though riches are though your kisses maybe, would you still love me;
If I would not engage in loving you physically until our wedding night, sigh;
Would you still love me?
Would you still love me If I suddenly stop worshiping God;
Though riches are though your kisses maybe, would you still love me;
Sudden chances random glances, would you still love me;
I'm not that perfect in this would you still love me;
And would you still love me if I were a convict;
And would you still love me if I confess;
Could I be forgiven for my misdemeanors, would you still love me
Come here before my love darling love, would you still love me?
Would you still love me or find it odd;
If I were at your beck and call would you still love me?
Would you still love me would I be forgiven?
In the event you do forgive me, would you still love me?
12/23/18
Would You Still Love Me Poetry Contest
Free verse
Sponsored by:Edward Ibeh