Short Impropriety Poems

With talk of some depravity
She had some insecurity
It was intended levity
That brought up the impurity

But due to the gravity
And a sense of new propriety
She became a true deity
When I received sobriety

The then avoided atrocity
Turned into only animosity
But, through her generosity
She finally gave me pity...

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them we should pity
Politicians not pretty
Impropriety

to anyone poems apply
with all my haiku supply
have gone and passed by

avoided mire
his straits (straights) did become dire
term would expire

what we did with feet
have been member of elite
God will meet and greet

truth failed to provide
they always have lied and lied
felt guilty inside...

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I have known the temptation
of a train of impure thought, 
and the tranquillity of virtue 
that can’t be with lucre bought. 

I’ve coveted riches not mine
with the stealth of impropriety, 
and rejoiced in the righteousness
of a random act of charity. 

I hide the stains of offenses  
which the Ganges cannot rinse, 
I’ve tasted the milk of goodness
and sniffed a potpourri of sins....

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After the rains, 
it was a full moon
in summer night.

Fleeing from a subculture-
of violence, she was
nestling in the arms of clouds.

A lost killer swearing 
with bruised arms,
raking up the old vendetta-

beheads the phallic
image. A brutalizing
score, when we were celebrating

the moon’s arrival. There was
no impropriety in spilling.
Sperm was the conjugal bliss.



Satish Verma...

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To qualify as an educated gent
    to certain boarding-schools one must be sent
  To learn how to position one's fork and knife
    and raise one's pinkie, unlike lowlifes  

  A gent speaks with an air of charm and grace
    his nose gradually rising on his face
  Savaging the ways of 'today's barbaric youth' 
    while knocking down shots of gin and vermouth    

  Such gents betimes depart fine society
    exposing themselves ~ targets of impropriety...

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‘Twas all thy impropriety,
For, I hung upon your neck,
Desecrating and withering away;
Wrenching you to your cessation.

In your breathe, all I can be,
Is a repugnant, vile leviathan.
Something so contemptible,
I’m merited to tribulation.

Contrite, I could never feel;
Not for you. Not ever.
Heedless, there’s too much to spare,
Within thy tormented subconscious.

And love nor adulation,
Could ever I bestow,
To any such a human,
Within this world a’ low....

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A Gentleman made his reservation in Heaven
  Who had donated millions to Charity
Stood up to Bigotry and Oppression
  Fought for Justice unrelentingly

As fine a man as ever you'd meet 
  No smidgen of impropriety --
Though behind closed doors 
  He'd routinely mistreat
  The members of his family

The angelic tribunal examined his deeds
  And found them shockingly lacking
Thanks to an amicus brief that God chose to read
  ~ Wherein his wife and children sent him packing...

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