Short Jailer Poems

The threshold of lies
is hearsay

The jailer and killer 
—of truth

(Devil’s Tower: July, 2019)...

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there are links in chains
that hold the world together
but who holds the key

© Harry J Horsman 2021...

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Twisted and tormented
                        You keep things in, you keep things out
                                       A guardian, a jailer...

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Look into her eyes
What has been just realized
She is trapped within herself
What a small demised
The walls that have blocked her sight
Are walls that her mind has made...

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Hostage to fortune,
prisoner of time

Trophies a burden,
 polished and shined

Greed but a jailer,
freedom denied

Hope in confinement
—wishing a crime

(Dreamsleep: October, 2021)...

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Can knowledge surpass
a belief you hold true

Diametrically prescient
when thrust unto you

Is faith but the jailer
of transcendence restrained

With truth serving time
—in a captive domain

(Villanova Pennsylvania: October, 2019)...

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the jailor and the prisioner
the addicted and the addict
the enabler and the addict
daughter chooses a crackhead husband
who forbids her to see her family
he beats her
and she stays
because
when he's sober he's great.
I've seen him
He's satan....

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Logic is a prison…
  the truth locked deep within

Its laws a jailer standing guard
  whose warden darkness brings

An either or deception
  a psychic trap that lures

Vision sentenced — insight charged
  zero-sum assured

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2019)...

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A prisoner of devotion,
a Saint indentured pure

The light now holds him captive,
on knees bent to the floor

His silence for a jailer,
  his sentence now unlocked

With handcuffs loose and falling
—their key from heaven bought

(Las Vegas Nevada: January, 2017)...

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Chasing the crown,
sitting the throne
—regal opposed

Pursuit once free,
capture enslaves
—jailer demands

Clipping one wing,
grounding the wish
—motion suppressed

Weight pushing down,
hope abandoned
—freedom deserts

(Strafford Pennsylvania: February, 2017)...

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Chasing the crown,
Sitting the throne, 
  —opposed

Pursuit once free,
Capture enslaves,
 —jailer demands

Clipping one wing,
Grounding the wish,
 —motion censored

Weight pushing down,
Hope abandoned,
 —freedom deserts

(Strafford Pennsylvania: February, 2017)...

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A prisoner of devotion,
  a Saint indentured pure

The light now holds him captive,
  on knees bent to the floor

His silence for a jailer,
  its sentence now unlocked

With handcuffs loose and falling,
—their key from heaven bought

(Las Vegas Nevada: January, 2017)...

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A prisoner of my poetry…
a captive of this chair

The air I breathe connects me fast,
this corner now my lair

I take my meals here sitting,
my sleep in naps between

The written and the spoken word
—both jailer to this dream

(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2016)...

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There was a sheriff named Andy Taylor
He was also the county's best bailor
Most folks seemed to adore him
Except the crooks were so grim
Guess they knew he was also the jailer




On A Lim Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Joseph May 
April 3, 2022...

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A prisoner of my poetry,
  a captive of this chair

The air I breathe connects me fast,
  this corner now my lair

I take my meals here sitting,
  my sleep in naps between

The written and the spoken word,
 —both jailer to this dream

(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2016)...

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Sheriff Andy Taylor
Was also the jailer
Fighting for the law
Never had to draw

Deputy Barney Fife
Giving crime strife
One bullet to load
Knew his penal code





Clerihew 2 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Joseph May
September 29, 2021
The Andy Griffith Show

...

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My car, my crappy house, the job I loathe
and clothes I wear, the girl I say I love
and rarely really speak to; fitted glove
that deadens all my senses, all I loathe
and praise at once is part of living, most
of all my woman, jailer, savior, saint.
I own her, yet she owns me. Could I paint
a breathing body-not this quiet host....

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More than a handshake
a passionate kiss and 
embrace, 

we are connected in ways
even broader unseen – 

connected in our labors
and dreams…

in our joys and griefs

in our compassion
and blistering briefs~ how we petition 
our god

our forgiveness
and our sentences

we share our prisons

both the Jailer and thief...

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Lost In My Mind


I stare out my window onto a landscape
Devoid of life and color
No trees, grass, or flowers
No warm sunshine or cold rain
No people or animals
No love no hate or any other emotion
I am trapped inside my own mind
No key no jailer no warden
There is no chance for parole or release
I can only stare at the blankness of life...

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How many people find rest
After a caging arrest?
How many can give their best?
When locked doors from them, dreams wrest?
They are crops their jailer pest!

Freedom they seek East and West:
Much like The Only Wished Guest,
'F' of Freedom stamp on chest,
On my polo it's a crest.
Women would theirs mark on  breast;
They don't like this kind of test:
Bird whose best home is its nest....

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With each tick, a sag
Still in the lag
some in neglect
demise as death
dumb as the sea

Still waters run deep 
diverse tongues and beliefs
black clay however beautiful
 none is voice
...none but passion

Alas!..the power of passion
A mandate to be
once a whisper
later,..a mantra
Feat worth dying

Passion is a jailer
A limit, better than laws
nothing is policy without passion
till you dare enough
little you will know...

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That constant exercise within our head
Where ceaselessly we ponder-
But naught is ever said
Our soundless voice imprisoned 
within the jailer mind
Knit picks, rehearses, warns, 
and is with us all the time.

From the moment we awake at dawn,
Until shadows creep 
across each darkened lawn
When finally, we seek our quiet 
in the cave of sleep
Alas, to find that never-ending thinking
Crawls into the dreams we reap....

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I believe in Jesus
I believe in Buddha
I believe in Mohammed
—divinity shared

I believe in grace
I believe in epiphany 
I believe in tomorrow
—the promise it bears

I believe in man’s ability
to rise above his nature
religion the jailer
—whose lies forestall

I believe that enlightenment
requires a commitment 
to become the living embodiment
—of that One who calls

(The 1st Book Of Prayers: November, 2016)...

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"We are our very own jailer alone, working together ever-generously and continuing - we are our very own pardon."

"Just what we apply ourselves to - working together, or apart - within the very movement... of this very moment; makes all of the difference towards relative peace, honest freedom, and general harmony, continuing." 

                                                                       Signed: An Anonymous "Friend"...

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I believe in Jesus
  I believe in Buddha
I believe in Crazy Horse
  —divinity shared

I believe in grace
  I believe in enlightenment
I believe in tomorrow
  —the promise it bears

I believe in man’s ability
  to rise above his nature
Religion a jailer
  —its lies befall

I believe our sacred freedom
  lives within a solemn choice 
To become the living embodiment
  —of that voice who calls

(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2016)...

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