Short Suspects Poems

a murder

of crows morph into shadows

no suspects in sight...

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Praisin' Kringle, jolly Nick
for last minute Christmas 
smashed-torn gifts.

Cause pop-pop suspects
dad's stuck again,
inside the sooty chimney.
...

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three suspects are in sight
one driving
one unknown
one with a gun
everyone's taking about
336 maple street
i couldn't find it
but remember 
it was only a dream...

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Charlie
That's Me

Detects
Suspects

Here's Clue
For Flu

Veggie
Suey

Ban Food
No Good

You Do
Flu Through

My Fee
Chablis

Glug Glug
Chug Chug...

So Long
Drink Gone...

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A lion's roar can be heard five miles away
Same as when a wife suspects a roll in the hay 
The strong smell of booze
An investigation ensues
All hell breaks loose and things decay...

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Shadows prowl early evening.

A diminutive witch and Spiderman
huddle at an unknown door.
The creep within
rubs himself again.

A dad suspects laced candy
ushers kids away.

Tell all, tell the town,
hell is already here
dressed as a clown....

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Love 
heart-felt, honest 
reciprocating, reflecting, recieving 
partners, plans, prime-suspects, prisoners
fight, fumble, fall
dangerous, deceitful
Hate 

09 August 2022
'Dazzling Dizzy Diamante' Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Caren Krutsinger...

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planning suicide
feeling as an outcast does
giving away toys

no one suspects him
feeling of euphoria
joyful decision

funeral is sombre
signs were there but no one saw
per his careful plan

did not know they said
never suspected a thing
sorry reflection...

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OBIT
unrequited love was
found dead last night
naked and alone
in a hotel room
killed by a single shot
to the heart
police have no suspects
at this time think suicide
was the cause there is
no family to speak of
although countless thousands
have sent flowers...

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Nothing burns so bright
as a bad poem no scribe
admits it but something
in the rotting rhyme and
wayward verse ignites
like kindling one suspects
the sweat and passions
invested only to be scorned
I drop two rejected sonnets
in a fire and enjoy a heat not
felt since my novel was returned...

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Nothing burns so bright
as a bad poem no scribe
admits it but something
in the rotting rhyme and
wayward verse ignites
like kindling one suspects
the sweat and passions
invested only to be scorned
I drop two rejected sonnets
in a fire and enjoy a heat not
felt since my novel was returned...

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She eats to live
  He lives to eat
She'd rather give
  He likes to receive

Some men just cry
  Their wives say they're closed
But when their time comes to die
  They stay calm and composed

One thing for sure
  Never lie to your wife
'Cos if she even suspects
  Wave goodbye to your life...

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The more I try to reassure my mother,
The more she suspects...

The concerns and cares I shoulder,
I conceal and collect.

Her ears keen to the notes I offer,
My anxiety she dissects.

Taking on more as I grow older,
Less her fear affects.

Understanding her and less eager,
I share all; she accepts, connects....

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these unconventional cats who are dicks
forties detectives to you out of comic strips
make others nervous anyway me

go by their last names, like Marlo or Spade
interrogate  usual suspects under spotlights
look to save a damsel or two

offices are dirty
in a sordid side of town
I run from these dicks...

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You did a beaUTIFUL THING Boss
Tp f### a perfect future all over again all over a woman,
,he met himsef comin back and he said to himself its pointless without love,
round up the usual suspects,
This very same thing happened to me just last year,
THIS COULD BE THE BEGINNING OF A BEAUTIFUL FRIENDSHIP,
Scream the GODS....

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Petals of Beauty
Showing up the Flowers
Hiding in Plain Sight
From Monkeys and Birds

Orchid Mantis, 
Does her best 
To wait casually, and quietly
for her dinner to fly straight to her.

A predator dressed to kill,
She eats up her tasty beetles
and butterflies in front of her
archenemy, the monkey

Who neither sees 
or suspects...

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Ere Kyser
was Kaiser
or Söze
the records
a german
germaine
an immigrant
they granted him
a pass
some eight generations past
first, depressing
later, repressing
regressing
turning generational curse to blessing
and now messing
and fiddling
with rhyming and riddling
for an extended verbal stint
roger that
with another Jeff
and all the 
usual suspects...

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Normally our education provide us,
If a person has good looking,
And he seems a gentle,
Nobody suspects him a bad man.

If a gentle person has bad looking,
And he seems as a beggar or poor,
Everyone suspects him,
He is a thief or robber.

A performance counts everywhere,
People want to enjoy only beauty,
It is sophisticated or natural,
Everyone minds only a taste....

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Books people read,Vance:faces,
On plain ones future crime traces;
How does he this a mystery
What is obvious: plain mastery!
Today's suspects later felons
In the act caught with their talons

Isn't this guy paranormal 
By spooks sent for The Abnormal,
His orders:to make things normal?

Russia coming for Vance for use,
The World Terrorists for misuse...

US might not want to him lose....

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Black or White

They hide behind masks
They deceive the cathedral masses
They have no names
They have no real face

They preach
They poetically sing
They postulate like peacocks in a ring
Yet silently they slither away

The preacher with the loud voice
The Politician like a trumpet
Promises they have on offer
They are the usual suspects

Loud in pronouncements
Silent in moral disguises...

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The same names keep coming up,
all the usual suspects,
but they give the illusion
of being many.

The same faces surface
the bugaboo’s,
the clown-faced devils.
We are taught to listen
without thinking,
to drink in
only their thoughts.

A critical mass is reached,
at last the sheep
are teaching themselves
to be sheepdogs.

Now we are watchful
of the wooly flock.
We will not drink
their watery beers....

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In a field of green where the sky comes down
a curious child with wide eyes is found
excited to find a dragon-shaped cloud
with wings outstretched in a whitish shroud.
It's scales are soft, each like a feather.

The boy suspects its chest is like leather
protecting its brave heart with feathery scales,
a fearless dragon whose deeds never fail.
The boy surmises tomorrow he'll ride
in so much glory on its silvery hide....

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No one suspects the poet
To be the subject of the piece
The poet is expected the least

No one thinks the poet
would write about them self
When they write of no one else

No one assumes the poet
Ever needs help fighting
They just congratulate the writing

No one worries for the poet
Their hell-ridden heart
Is just a piece of the art

No one suspects the poet
To think they've reached their time
It's just the last line...

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I don't know, but I may sound aggressive
        I know it's your law,but I wish everybody saw
        The reasons I have are very massive
                  

        I only  want to send a message to those who wants to know
        That's my thinking,that's my passage ,that's the way to go

        A freedom of speech with respect
        A way to reach anyone suspects
 
      To lighten the mind of anyone who is blind
      ,so I'm sorry for not being so kind...

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The plot thickens in a whodunit thriller
 As I try to figure out who's the killer
 Which character will be on the hook
 As I turn the pages of my book

 Each page turned unravels the mystery
 Some of the suspects are getting jittery
 Was it the butler of whom they were afraid
 Or was it the beautiful buxom maid
 I'm on the last chapter, but it's still not clear
 But I'm in the moment, it's as if I'm there!

   6-8-18
   In The Moment Contest
  Sponsor: Heidi Sands...

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