EPSTEIN PRISON GUARD
CONGRESS DEPOSITION CARD
DONALD TRUMP IS JARRED
the jester thought he was a talented bard
his songs were stilted because he tried too hard
he is hilarious said an easy prison guard
his discerning mush brain must have been part lard
much better jokes come from a bubble gum card
this was said by a goof pot named Pard
I rolled my eyes said my cousin Tard
we imprison ourselves for years
staying in jobs we no longer care to do
worse yet, some of us stay in jobs we never liked
we abide by rules we do not believe in
wanting to keep the peace
or keep these banal jobs
the most stringent prison guard we will ever have
is our self
My bars the words, the prison guard my verse,
Rattling the staves of this poetic cell,
I struggle vainly, locked up in this jail.
Yea, thus is my predicament, my curse.
Oh, how jealously, you smirking blank verse,
I look upon what freedom guides your quill;
For formal phrasing does of me compel
Stubborn structures—the styles which I rehearse.
But, boldy bumbling, art is now arising!
Walls becoming my score, and tallies tones, ?Confined to meter, bound by rigid rhyme,
I yet find measures full of surprising
Motifs. The modern poet at sonnets groans,
But I, I do believe they’re quite sublime.
Shelly came running in with her heart on both sleeves
I am in love again! She yelled. Nothing new at Family Reunion McVees.
Shelly is always in love, she can fall in love six times a day.
She is an intense admirer too most men run swiftly away.
She catches some on the fly and hugs them way way too hard.
She has caught a TV repairman, a cowboy and a prison guard.
I love you! I love you! I love you! I love you! She yells to each one.
Being chased by our cousin Shelly is not incredibly fun.
You stood before me,
Smile o’ so bright,
The plate of mush you gave me,
I've always feasted at night.
A reached my hand out,
Wishing for just one word,
Yet you whisked away,
Leaving me o' so hurt.
The metal bars I rest within,
The 'love' you so called,
Yet it feels o' so cold,
Even with my burning heart.
Next time you come my way,
I beg you to stay,
As the 'friend' you so called,
I bid you again,
Farewell.
[ELSA TONG - SERI JUBLI INTERNATIONAL SCHOOL MALAYSIA]
Porcelain doll, with a face so pretty
a country gal, ran away to the city
Worked in a bar, dancing on tables
beat shovelling sh-it, in Pa’s stables
Looks for love, but only finds bums
lowlife gamblers, in rundown slums
Go back home
not a chance
One day soon
find romance
Porcelain doll, life’s becoming gritty
rent’s due, ain’t nothing in her kitty
All knocked up, mascara streaking
bloodshot eyes, skin’s unappealing
Sleeps in the pines, winter it snows
crystallised tears, angel eyes froze
Barely alive
baby’s dead
No way back
no warm bed
Porcelain doll, face’s the committee
lunatic asylum, nobody shows pity
Shock treatment, four hourly dose’s
prison guard lesbians, with halitosis
broken doll, made one bad decision
they chipped her head, thin incision
Eyes don’t blink
stare at space
No expression
just a doll’s face
By
David Kavanagh
Being as how I am the 4th graders lunch room monitor,
I think I know how a prison guard feels.
A loud noise gets my head up and turned.
When someone stands, I flip my head over there.
I would like to reach for my taser.
Unfortunately, the principal took it away.
Just kidding.
I'll just step
very softly,
tip toe,
on this blank page.
My inner critic?
fast asleep!
Perhaps
I'll tap dance,
lightly,
while he snores.
For freedom
has a jazz band beat
...soon twirling dizzily...
Shhh!
The prison guard stirs.
9/27/2019
Yalto Poems Only Contest
Emile Pinet, Sponsor
I've watched as they ride the lightning
If the punishment was just
I watched the innocent appeal their sentences
While behind bars of iron lined with rust
Many men I was in charge of
Underneath this hat of mine
My job though not pleasant
I've made the hardest criminals walk the line
I remember each and every one
As at night I lay and sleep
Haunted by the one's lead to their demise
Their deaths taunt and terrorize me
I am the last face that ever see
Before the executioner pushes the button
I'm the last voice that they hear
Praying their souls may go to Heaven
I am the lonely prison guard
Just sent to do my job
It's dirty and sometimes it's rough
I pray forgiveness from my God
To judge is not my place
That's why my soul it cries
But man sometimes does wrong
And the jury determines his fate
sixty-three hippie
guard supervise prisoners
daisies woven crown
© By: Eve Roper
3/1 6/2015
This is in honor of my sister in-law, she use to be a flower child when she was in her teens. She has been a prison guard for almost 16 years and she has never grown out of the era of dress..... ?????
I open the door for my son,
while he carries his laundry basket
full of clean clothes out to his car.
He says, "Thank you mama.
I love you mama."
He's a prison guard and I worry.
While I watch him walk off, I say,
"Be careful. I love you."
and shed a tear.
Letting go is so hard.
Wishing he was still young and at home again.
To hold and protect him of what is waiting
for him out there in the world.
Then, I wonder of what I have been taught,
to leave him in the Lord's hand, not mine.
I ponder of moments similar,
when I have fallen away from God's faith.
I need to remind myself,
trust in God and his word.
He has never failed me,
but always guided me in my life.
9-3-2014
Hide my head,
A rock, so still,
Not moving and scared,
Uncover a paw,
Then another,
Peak out your head,
Look around,
Take in the view,
The shell, once my prison guard, now my protector
Trails of laughter amid tears
Tales of the ancients rake pensive queers
History is but present hollowly thought
Experienced oceans of belittled naught
Swelling chest and above the eyes
That constantly gaze on high
We hear the change of the believed
Rainwater drips into the pangs of eve
Enamored upon the brink of a wind’s tide
A tapestry of the softest gold beside
It is the tip of the highest sorrow
That brings a happy tear to the morrow
Look back, but upon the wind you stay
Treasure ashes remain acceptance, gray
Leaves curling dutifully brown
As the knowing tiger lilies frown
Prison guard of the future
With a hardened face revealing today
Be present at best in an experienced face
Into the eyes that trace true pain
I awoke in a kitchen
on a pillow of aprons;
my body covered with bruises
from a mob of angry patrons.
Then I came to in my bed
with all my ex-lovers
and their menstrual blood
absorbed by my covers.
Then I was asleep on the freeway,
alone in the carpool lane;
drove off a bridge in California
and woke up underwater in Maine.
Then I was alive in a coffin
snuggled with a teddy bear –
a knocking at my door,
but I pretended I wasn’t there.
Then I was back to the mirror
engraving my eyes with glass;
as the lights went out,
my ears started to laugh.
Then I was shivering on a pier
with a needle in my arm,
and my intestines unraveling
like a ball of yarn.
Then I was behind steel bars -
opposite a prison guard;
telling him your address,
and handing him a postcard.
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