Long Purloin Poems
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A drunkard, a thief and a con man,
Who was known by the name Greedy Jack,
Lived a life so vile Satan watched him awhile,
Said, "Of sin in his life there's no lack."
He decided to pay Jack a visit.
Thought with this man he'd have some fun.
Said, "Jack, you're an ass. You ain't got no class.
You're coming with me, Man you're done."
Jack asked him for one final favor.
One last night of drinks on the town.
Satan agreed, Jack really could plead,
And Satan and Jack made the rounds.
When at last the night's drinking was done,
Jack said, "I've no money. You pay.
Turn yourself into coin and the drinks we'll purloin.
We'll slip out the door free and gay.
The devil agreed to the trickery,
And turned into some coin on the sly.
But while he was coin Jack made sure he was joined,
In his pocket with crosses, Belied.
Jack said he would free him if he,
Would grant him ten years to be free.
The devil agreed and he'd have all he'd need,
But in ten years he must pay the fee.
In ten years the devil was back,
And Jack knew he had to think fast.
He asked for an apple for he wanted to sample,
The sweet apple tree they'd just passed.
The devil once more agreed.
He even got him to climb up and pick it.
But while he climbed the tree Jack whipped out three,
Silver crosses to lay there beneath it.
Jack told him that he'd let him down,
But first he must grant one last boon.
He'd not pay for his crimes to the end of all time,
And the devil agreed as he fumed.
Jack thought that he'd won the match,
But time passed and he grew old and sick.
He knew he must die and he let out a cry,
"God forgive me I'm all out of tricks.
But God would not let him in,
And Satan said a deal is a deal.
You must wander the earth, this now is your berth.
You're stuck Man. Now how does it feel.
Satan gave him an ember of coal,
To light his dark path as he left.
He carved out a tuber, he felt in a stupor.
He'd use this for a lantern he guessed.
So he now walks the earth a lost soul.
Not wanted in Heaven or Hell.
With a coal in a pumpkin at least he has somethin',
To light his dark path 'cross the fell.
Could one learn what romantic fever is?
All I knew was my miserly uncle
With whom we were living,
Fell suddenly in love.
Still he held on tight riches.
Ah, but Juliana, oh wonderful Juliana,
Never missing a hiccup of grace,
Somehow managed to purloin from him
Lovely presents that delighted
Her scheming and wanton heart.
But then who cared or bothered?
We were all madly in love with her,
Those turbid humid days.
Juliana took us all to picnics
Much to our youth's delight.
Yes we all were in favor of our uncle,
That he begot a wife,
Juliana mesmerized us.
For did she not make us happy,
With all those gifts she gave us
Behind my uncle's back?
To her we were just baby dragonflies
Captured in fancy colored bottles,
To be indulged in and left astray,
Maybe picked up some later time
As if a schedule had evolved
In her gracious mind.
I often wondered what was best
If not to tell my uncle all she spent.
I had a sneaking feeling
His heart was leaking fine.
Would he have a heart attack
And have Juliana all for us?
Who could tell?
He might turn us out into the barn.
His heart strong and full of fortitude,
Would not I be killing the golden goose?
So I held my tongue.
And we all suffered from hay fever
As we trudged in secluded fields
Frolicking in the new cut hay
Or tumbling on the grass in meadows gay,
That pleasant spring when
My miserly uncle married away.
10 October 2021
Placed 1
''R'' Contest, New or Old Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
Fleeting glances
Stolen chances
To look into your soul
You pass through the corridors of my mind
I look up from thoughts thicker than a book
I purloin a look
In an attempt to catch your eyes
Though I was thrown off momentarily by the music of your thighs
But that look in your soul windows
Your beauty causes me to lose my train
I can’t remember my intellectual flow
Half smiles from behind a doubting screen
Understandably cautious
Almost intentionally mean
I try to mentally dart around
Try to be a book that you can’t seem to grasp
But you just can’t stop reading cause you want to comprehend
And that little voice in my head
Implores me to stick it for another second
Cause all colours will be exposed
And you’ll let me in
Erase all fear
Bring my soul near
I don’t want to leave it at
I think you’re beautiful and I want to get into your mind
It’s not so simple as taking a ribbon to bind
Our two psyches
Not just a physical or emotional bond
I want to compose your essence in a song
A lyrically artistic connection
No more complex than poetic selection
Unexpected meeting
Endeavouring to be charming
My swagger, amusingly arrogant greeting
Delusions of intellectual stimulation
Ineffective word manipulation
My heart the suckling infant
Held close wrapped in your warm arms
Of smiling bliss
Left in my dreams where your lips I kiss
Violent awakening to realize who I miss
No, the chances missed
To talk to
The girl sitting at the security desk
Form:
Beyond the distant saddened sight,
inside this lonely broken place,
I see the light that slowly fades,
the flame that burns like love's gaze
into this empty soundless space,
the void of mind and thought and name,
where all has gone and naught remains
but,
as time dreams past in impassioned reverie
will the darkness possess my night
and end my sleep in incarnadine terror.
Can the warm flame illuminate the shadows
that purloin my silent illusions,
or is the light but a trick of the eye
hiding the raven that waits to take flight.
and,
does the flame feel the darkness,
does it sense the cold.
Can it imagine its own loneliness.
Will the cold's embrace in icy indifference
sooth the pain with veiled deception.
When its warmth begins to diminish
will the dark caress its waning glow,
or,
is it yearning that drives the emptiness.
Is it drawn to the flame
sharing its light in warmth and comfort,
to feel for the briefest of moments,
desired, wanted, needed,
beyond the ceaseless unseen tears
that fall from its ebon unseeing eyes,
then,
flicker flame for soon you will leave,
but memories of you shall linger on
like morsels, so sweet, of pastel dawn
and end of day shall come again
with fear of pending evening's gloom.
Fear not as shade engulfs the flame
for I may search for love too,
so,
embrace me, for I am the dark.
12/11/2019
Time: the biggest landlord
At whose feet kings and queens bow
Cockiness and stubborn they can ill afford
When time wipes vanity and sagacity from their brow
In consonance with the mandate
Bestowed on time from on high
As no other candidate
Dares to ply
The trade in enthralling beauty
That leaves onlookers out of breath
The next moment, time being naughty
Crumples a hexing face implanting dearth
Of supple skin, agile gait
While time grows on a souse a protruding paunch
Signaling the haste
Time employs to launch
An assault on the juvenile
Appearance time lends to youth
Only to metamorphose a once sprightly body into a senile
Bundle of misshapen blob sometimes polite, sometimes uncouth
As time mounts a punishing foray
To age cells, weaken tissues, disorganize organs
Derange systems and diminish the ray
Hope plants as a hurdle to purloin guns
Time deploys in its onslaught
Against lifecycles
Although believers plot
To summon miracles
To plead with time
Begging time to slow down ravages
Inflicted on the lime
Souls scramble to sneak into garages
Where time assembles its tanks
Armoured vehicles, jeeps
To devastate life in all its flanks
Despite pusillanimous whips
Life gathers
In the face of superior savvy and guile
Time employs as it smothers
Life’s feeble riposte through its rank and file.
ADVICE TO A YOUNG SOCIALIST
You’d better be good
You’d better not cry
You don’t get what you should
I’m telling you why
Santa Claus ain’t coming to town
The governments got
No gold Apple tree
It gets all of its pot
From you and from me
Santa Clause ain’t coming to town
Politicians in glee
Like to give things away
But for everything free
Someone else has to pay
Santa Clause ain’t coming to town
I know you feel entitled
To have everything you need
Provided by a welfare state
That the government decreed
But
You’d better not claim
More entitlements due
You’d better see plain
I’m telling you true
Santa Clause ain’t coming to town
So it’s time that you’ve grown
Responsibility
You better postpone
That next spending spree
Santa Clause ain’t coming to town
And it’s time that you knew
Though it may cause you strife
Father Christmas not true
No one owes you a life
Santa Clause ain’t coming to town
You think that it’s unfair that
Someone else has more than you
And a proxy act of plunder
Will purloin what you feel due
But you‘d better not whine
You’d better not pout
That you want to some of mine
In another handout
And there is no big list
Of goodies for you
Better try and exist
On what you yourself do
Sant Claus ain’t coming to town
Your heart my Love
worth more than a thousand mines of gold
they could never purchase
the purest standards from times of old
there is such beauty
in songs where justice does prevail
where the stories told
those causes the judges never fail
in whom the welfare
of mankinds oppressions are overcome
and your pursuit of
them can so never be outdone
it is there I rest
in the meditations of your mind
songs of clarity
in which ones destiny has not been blind
and there put you forth
a call that others would you join
and fey despise
those who would virtue to purloin
in whose faultlessness
draws forth the throng and multitude
that we all might see
in us like innocence therein exude
so alas I thought
to reach this is the strivings of the mad
out of grasps reach
to imitate this pattern might be had
but it is your gift
and the power of its spirit we display
wherein are abled
we to walk its path in everyway
there we to approach
a mighty throne built of just and true
and learn these statutes
and everyday enact them what we do
where we are drawn
unto a model whose display is without equal
and to pass it on
to others its perfections are the sequel
sources :Gospels about the Christ
COPYRIGHT © 2011 C. Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC
The hallow inside the given tree that calls and beckons to me.
I cannot help but become enraptured of all there is to see.
The dancing faeries hop around with immense delight.
Oh, this is such a pleasing sight.
But, behold!
The night is free!
I feel drawn to the murky blanket of the nocturnal time.
The glittering hues of pale pink and baby blue
Don some sort of mysterious hue
As I walk around the cobblestone path,
The mystique of the undulation of colors derives from those
who purloin babies from mothers as the giggle and laugh and steal.
The hated lies that come
Foaming out and dropped of children that formed not a bout.
As they are pacified by glittering dreams tonight.
The lullabies soothe and bathe them as they lie down.
The songs and chants are hypnotic as I tread that path.
I warily glance to the night as I could be taken.
The last dew left on the bottom of the lily tonight.
It was the Eve of the Hallow and not a soul was in sight,
yet twinkling lights kept rebounding up high.
I clutched my child unto my chest.
Lest he be taken from my breast.
Oh, behold, as the shining intensified.
Nothing was left for me to be pacified.
To whit to be caught between two brothers
and become the sport of many others
She kept her heart from loving true
but not from the damage passing through
Oh twice spent the beauties coin
did deliberate vengence to purloin
thought knowingly did enter door
in spite she cast them to the floor
Though twas for couple it's own collusion
the device and trap it's own illusion
the crimes waylaid doth carry to the grave
to curse ones soul as fearful and not brave
Twas the story carried in her mind
her face to others she wished were blind
and with ones sight to look upon her heart
to know in violence was her start
She thought those sins would ever last
or to shake the paths of her past
in her fears her heart down cast
she did not know to forgiveness ask
Unable to differentiate between love and need
or if womans desire was only greed
If man looks upon her with his smile
is he looking for love or just another trial
She asks those questions to this day
must there be violence to graveyard pay
for many men have forced their way
in their behavior did have no say
COPYRIGHT © 2009 C Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC
Next item up for bid, a rare coin of mine
Is one 1894 s silver Liberty dime
Only 24 of these coins were minted that year
That is, in San Francisco, let me be clear
In case anyone here has a thought to purloin
We have guards and cameras on this valuable coin
It's merely speculation why so few were minted
The fact is, that's all, they permitted
The superintendent gave most to banker friends
But three were given to his daughter to spend
She spent one on ice cream, the other two she saved
After that,there whereabouts weren't written on page
The chances of you seeing another one like this
Couldn't be calculated on one hundred abacuses
This perfect coin is the best ever seen
And the last one that sold went for two million green
If you've deep pockets, want to impress your friends
My rare silver dime must surely make you grin
For two million I'd say, "Going once" at that price
But now 2.5 million I'd say, "Going twice"
Anything over that I would gladly let it go
Pay three million right now and I'll holler, "SOLD"
By Daniel Turner