Robbing Poems


Grave Robbing

Where has my smile run off to?

Oh, I don't pretend that it's gone entirely,
that it doesn't make any appearances.
But that's not the dilemma.

It doesn't stay for long,
doesn't have a home here anymore -
and that's what I mean to decry.

When you say that you've broken down
on the side of the road,
it's supposed to mean your car.

Not the wash of memories in the morning,
the pressure smacking you the moment you wake,
the toil of every godless-damned second.

Every day I want nothing more than rest;
but it flees from the sight of me,
cackling at the daily victory of its whim.

I want it back, all of it -
my smile, my sleep...
them.

When folks talk about grave robbers,
usually they mean some nefarious men
desecrating the dead, pilfering the perished.

In my case, the roles are reversed.
The six, the slain, those stolen from me,
while it's not their fault...

They are the thieves.
Categories: robbing, death, death of a
Form: Free verse

Premium MemberRobbing a Bank

Nine in the morning, every day, 
The bank pushes its doors open wide,
Open for the whole town to deposit, 
Once they walk inside.

On this one day five men came in,
All dressed in sheer robe and hood,
They menacingly staked out the whole place, 
Taking their positions, they stood

By the counter forcing all to lay down, 
Then they demanded the lot,
And, when I saw the bag hit the bench, 
I knew I had a shot.

So I reached for the curtain and pulled it wide, 
Letting the sun fill the room,
And the five vampires fled, without their blood, 
Back to their graveyard tomb.
Categories: robbing, humanity, humorous, society,
Form: Quatrain


Robbing Peters Should Not Be the Case

In life,

Avarice,

In the rise,

Even for a plate of rice!

A poor to rich,

A rich to more rich,

To enrich,

A walker to cyclist,

A cyclist to motorist,

To enlist,

Avarice,

In the rise,

Taking the Sky up wise,

In a home of some souls,

One to hold all,

In a soil of whole,

One to hold all,

Avarice in the rise like the night mice,

Over the trees where crows portion their,their piece,

Robbing Peters should not be the case!
Categories: robbing, abuse, community, corruption, family,
Form: Free verse

Robbing My Pain With Your Fingers

kissing me softly with your troubles,
robbing my life with your pains.
killing me gently with your longings,
singing i don't want to be without you.
remeniescing the past without you:
toying with secrets and consecquences,
holding your teardrops in my memory,
as a promise for keeping,
running away from the drama,
hiding away in a get away,
trying to start new again,
trying not to surrender,
no matter if the plunder must go asunder.
living the night;
like it was never too long,
never too much to do again,
moving on with my life,
remembering what i've been through.
Categories: robbing, lost love, love, music,
Form: Lyric

Premium MemberRobbing Banks- Frank H

LIBRAS ~ Two of a kind  


by;Frank

Enigmatic SOUPER STAR--Only you know who you are.
Since we first met you've come so far.
Diamond Darling of the SITE--Soul on Fire--Never TRITE.
Your varied edges cast Blue light.
Our BIRTHDAYS are the same--
You share my Pretty Sister's Name.
A tease of Fate?...perhaps--She loves to play her games.
Friends here easily let me go--But with you I always know--
We'll always call each other friend.
Unwavering friendly Soul Mates to the end.


by;p.d.

You are Secretive like the color Blue;
My mind wonders when it comes to you.
Shadows that happen fast, 
and still your KNOCKING~@$$
Yes, a HAPPY BIRTHDAY to me and you.
We are what I call... "MAGIC OCTOBER BLUE!"
What a treat my son * my brother, RANK with the same name Frank.
We work hard Pleasing ~ Captivating and Robbing the same bank.
You hide it well & keep smiling through all the pain,
Not letting no one near the rain. 
A thousand falls, a thousand calls, 
Than he or she' wonders, why your back is against the wall!
Trust will only come, through the same disguise.
You are a True Friend,- Who's more than meets the eye!

* A COLLABORATION   with  FRANK HERRERA *
Categories: robbing, friendship, me,
Form: Couplet


Premium MemberRobbing the Dead

Reading the obits they saw his demise
Their interest peaked, a crime they devised

They ransacked his home, stole memories, treasures
Not giving a thought to their hurtful measures

While robbing the dead, and raping his heirs
What gain could be found from stealing his wares

His children were awed by the cruel scam
And no one knew why thieves went on the lam

After taking his goods and selling for cash
Dear family heirlooms just paid for their stash



*My father’s house was ransacked as soon as the obit appeared in the newspaper.  Police say this happens often.  
Entry for Susan Burch’s “Show Me the Anger” contest.
Categories: robbing, angst, family,
Form: Couplet

Premium MemberRobbing the Nest

I had survived how many summers? Five?
Six? 'til, self-taught, I learned at last
of terror that lurks in situations
which those I trust (myself included)
would swear offer only perfect safety...
My ball rolled under my Grandma's house
and I, well-guarded, scuttered after to retrieve it,
mindless of the tarry soil fleeced with fluffy,
small red feathers, newly molted by matrons:
hens that clucked contentment,
set upon their hidden egg troves.
Spying their nests, I thought to rob them
and so earn a Grandma's love for a city boy
unversed in country ways. Thinking, I acted,
reaching for a nest unoccupied,
half hid behind a house block.
I closed my soft, expectant hand
upon a wriggling creature coiled among the eggs,
drew back like lightning to watch
a brightly spotted snake slide off
into the farther, deeper darkness
amid a squall of squawks.
Emerging empty handed, terrified,
it wasn't Grandma's love I earned that day.
I have always since encountered similar brilliant colored
dangers whenever I have thought to grab,
for myself or others, unclaimed treasures
in strange places, in warmer or in cooler weathers.
Categories: robbing, childhood, education, family, life,
Form: Narrative
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