I think I had a bit too much. To drink last night.
I thought I saw my ex. Eating my apple pie.
Did he sneak in. Through my open window?
Or does he still have a key. To my front door?
I caught you, I think. Now what are you going to do?
Caught you red-handed. I wondered why my baking
Was going missing...Or was it all a dream?
No longer silent and small
the gluttony has taken its toll
heavier and slower than before
we hear the pitter patter of his feat
everyone watches as he steals the cheese
caught red handed he plays the fool
moi?
Clickity Clack the mouse does go
attention seeking, like the orange old troll
all the old ladies sitting in the gallery
having a good laugh
at his expense
now you know the meaning of dense
The man in the elevator
Looked scared as we entered the door
Red-handed was caught
When items not bought
Quick tumbled all over the floor
At first glance, he looked sort of fat
Round stomach and full where he sat
Seemed under his coat
Beer bottles built bloat
Held by a weak sling- they went splat!
A word or two about my view of the politicians
we presumably put in positions of power
hobbyists bought and paid for under the table
catering to manipulating lobbyists by the hour
where saying nothing yet flapping their gums
offending no one when sitting on the fence
doing naught but wagging their tongues
and all the while protesting their innocence
dodging the bullet by ducking the question
avoiding the topic with digression
self-serving landing votes with glad-handing
fingers firmly crossed behind the back
conscience-free they sleep well at night
there's nothing (short of gun) can be done to keep them on track
those more than a few who are quite literally
caught red-handed with their pants down
making a mockery of you and me
should be tarred feathered and run out of town
lust
seducing me into a moment of unfaithfulness
drawing in my wandering gaze
fingers reaching through the dimly lit doorway
sinfully running through my hair
filling my mind with a myriad of thoughts
social
historical
carnal
poetic thoughts
seduced by a street hustler on the corner
bought things I never intended to buy today
never needed or wanted
door left ajar
low light seen on the night stand
creeping along the back hallway
trying not to get caught red handed
satisfy my moment of gratification
couldn't help myself
transfixed
memorized
lust
when I saw the first three lines of your poem
fever pitched curiosity
hating the term
"nosey"
but it is what it is
and that's alright
first three lines of your poem
slowly pushing the door ajar
lustful eyes
peering through the haze across the room
watching you slowly disrobe
to see the nakedness of you
your poem
your poetry
Everyone sees
except the clown
eternal illusions
edged into oblivion
exposed
even old ladies laugh now and know
earmark of fool
ego bigger than a hallmark brain
egotistical mind ejaculated into space
eccentricity of ai caught red handed
embodiment of fraud
emotionless thief who steals the spotlight
empathy a pill he will never swallow
embezzling attention anyway he can
enchanted realms, he has been forbidden
encroaching on poetic graveyards, a sin
ears that hear, eyes that see
escape this villain, run for sanity
Did you hear the latest dear
Gooey gossip hot off the press
Like a cold beer for your ear
But hold what you know close to vest
I hear that man is really a ma’am
Or it may be it is vise versa
The sports team is in a sham
No one willing to silver serve her
Well I’m told there’s no hope
For the pervert posing professor
He pretends to hold heart of gold
Till he caught red handed confessor
Well I hear another teal tale
Seems the woman lies to her mate
Aftermath is the dad bales
For she has lied about the father’s babe
What say you about the pew
Going to bust hell wide open
Of the few like me like you
Who gossip with tongues so golden
I say that if it is a fact
One can surely surrender to share
For no one is perfect as glass
Life is but a truth or dare
We share a truth and slanted news
Not always seeing the error of ways
Until the news is about you
Enjoy the gooey gossip of the day
Tendrils twist and dance, guiltless, unblamed,
getaway vehicle, of the flame-
uncharged of previous transpyre, that's your game.
Like a serpent you shed your skin of the shame
of the red-handed fire.
You greasy sleaze, you leave yourself lingering,
advertising yourself on the byways,
but coy- like a transmitted disease.
Perhaps Prometheus will give you a place to lay low
till things cool down.
Maybe Haefestus knows what to do with your sort.
I think you should go to Hades,
for swaying every which way the wind blows,
you two faced liar.
But wouldn't it also be fitting if you went back to Aphrodite's Temple and returned to those
choking on the burnt offerings-
of their lust-
choking out true desire.
NO More day NO More night
Rainy sun and blue moon in the half-light of day
Dancing with green silence
NO more music caught red-handed
by the simultaneous clash of lives
in the middle of the orange street ablaze
by the simultaneous shock of lives
exploded in he middle of the yellow glowing night
by the glare of a dark haystack
he went to see his bride .
finding a wig on his round, shining bald head, she
loudly cried.
he felt ashamed,
as he was caught red handed, he
proclaimed
inept,
on the spot, he
wept
he went to see his bride.
as he was caught red handed, he
wept
In mental stasis, I remain,
Moving restlessly, never inane.
Nomadic actions, thoughts immobile,
A dichotomy within, deeply hostile.
Self-pity offers a deceptive release,
A dopamine hit, a false sense of peace,
Clawing at myself, seeking the thrill,
Lacerating tendons, a need to fulfil.
Red-handed, pale-hearted, I stand,
Distanced, departed, to the unknown land.
Uncharted, unguarded, my soul's domain,
Discarded, disregarded, from my own disdain.
That started from stopping...
Thousands of people I met in life who blamed
But there's no one my to be claim
People changes like chameleon
When they are done with you then you're an alien
Thoughts make me in a deeper thought
didn't i caught the people red handed a lot?
With times people changes their gestures
Is there's a device to know a person's fake texture?
I Living in a world full of fakers
Why can't I be not a fake maker?
People are to be live with
But never trust them because trust is a myth
Situations never make a person wicked
A wicked person hides their real intentions to get a right ticket[thing]
Next time when you meet a screwed creature
In the first instance start noticing their features
You will become safe from being their prey
If at the right time you make them away
lullabies in sleep
still sleeplessly snow-skating ~
babies are clever
husband on new love
wife income-generating ~
both caught red-handed
happy luck watchman
peg a day keeps dreams away ~
early sleep late-wake
23 October 2021
Oh God, I've been running through the street
Made the choice of the thief
And now I never feel peace
Maybe its too late and if i got nothing to eat, what's a little more beef?
What's it matter now to me?
It didn't matter that they caught me red handed
Full sprint, full sprint
No hesitation for a bandit
Red lights, blue lights, voices yelling
I can manage
Flashlights on my back make shadow
I won't panic
The tree line is my liberty
Each flight, a flight from custody
A chance to get away
My feet were running when they landed
A questionable young lad from the county
Went searching for a well-known burglar’s bounty
Found an empty croaker sack
With a handy auto jack
Ere he was suddenly stopped by a Mountie.
May 17, 2021
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