Wardens Poems | Examples

A Kid Should Be A Kid

I know kids should be kids
Too many parents will not allow it
Be quiet whenever you are around
Don’t play too hard or get dirty
And above all, never ever smile too big
I feel so sorry for kids like that
They do not have parents
They have wardens and guards
I say we should just let a kid be a kid
That is what they were meant to be
Little monsters playing with their friends
Screaming and howling their heads off
Coming home so dirty, you don’t know them
But coming home with the biggest smile ever
If you cannot raise a kid that way
Please just don’t have them
They deserve parents so much better than you

© Poem – X/VII/MMXXV
LRET

A new spring

The bitterly heavy rains had cleared,
and though the afternoon heat
reeked more of eternal summer
than of spring, we felt her hover
through our wide-eyed gazes, 
the unapologetic smiles and in 
every wrong turn taken, in
every awkward interaction. 
Amidst a meadow of paper and texts,
fresh intellect shows signs of blossom
while the wardens of nature - 
the lapwings and ravens - observe
the dawn of a season of rebirth. 




A/N: I just started my university journey, and my father (who also went to the same uni like 35 years ago) saw the common areas of the university packed with undergrads and commented on how it looked like spring in full bloom. I really liked that imagery, and I told him I'd write a poem on it, so here we are. I also incorporated some other observations I'd made - like how animals (especially birds) were super tame on campus grounds.

Union Correctional Institution

the heat presses down like a drunk cop’s boot,
metal fences shiver in the sticky Florida sun,
concrete walls spit their old secrets at you,
black mildew crawls across everything,
like it's alive and goddamn winning.

men with broken teeth laugh in corners,
playing cards with cigarette ashes and dreams,
the guards walk slow, like they own death,
keys jangling like a bad symphony,
boots scuffing, breaking the silence open.

sweat pools in the cracks of your skin,
rats wiser than the wardens,
paint peels in long strips, like shedding snakes,
you hear screams, sometimes,
but mostly you hear the waiting.

somewhere far off, a dog barks—
but not for you, not for you.

display of perspective

banished into exile of freedom
with no chance of extradition
bail collateral and ransom refused
he marvelled at his painless tattoo 

a rotten apple devouring a snake
inked into now sunburnt skin
reminded him that not everything
seemed as had been commanded

his island prison was very far removed
from what they called civilization
no barbed wire or wardens assaulted
mindfulness and serene integration 
he cherished his forced independence
from years of familial violence and abuse
an inner orchard of peace blossomed
as he made good friends with himself

body design had healed mind soul and spirit
he was an escape artist by involuntary decree
who would they torture as their victim had vanished
a few pricks on the outside were a small price to pay

fairy

where shadows play in woods 
lies the tale of moonlit fay   
whispered through the ancient trees   
hidden from the gentle gale 

they dance in circles under the starry skies   
casting spells in crystal jars    
with eyes gleaming like dewdrops    
wings of azure tint 

their laughter soft as light rain  
echoes through the wide forest  
wardens of the twilight gap  
in their secret shade 

when the mortals wander lost    
they guide them to safer zone    
but beware not all is kind  
In the fey land shine

Safety In Mob Mentality

animal control in the form of two men were shutting down the beach
There was a cougar watching from a giant rock, they wanted people safe
Many of the beachcombers ran toward the rock with cell phones
Wanting to take a “selfie” with the cougar
Did they think there was safety in numbers?
If one jumped out of an airplane without a chute would they have all done it?
The game wardens looked at each other, wondering what was happening/
Had common sense been replaced by mob mentality?
The cougar showed his teeth, and growled.
Delighting the idiotic crowd of onlookers.
Some were dumb enough to clap.
Incensing him.

Bashful Birds Cry

I wonder whether the birds I watch
mind being watched?
Do they wonder what the hell 
the bird watchers are looking at so intently,
with such devotion to the census?
Or wonder what are the itchy twitching bewitchers
are carrying in their camera bags?
Can there be no privacy for flimsy shy flutterers?
Why can't the twitchers leave us be
to flock and gaggle free of the
unwelcome stares of
the watching wardens?

First Check the Car Tires

The car's engine Fred often fires.
He. simply, first checks the car's tires
And off moves, tires spitting fires:
Tubular rollers end up criers;
Traffic wardens with their "Stop!" liars:
Fred at what he loves never tires!

The strength Free Fred uses he hires
From booze and kola sold by Mires...

After three months Fred's Benz for buyers!
Often worse than cars long in mires.

Driving Lessons

A car is not an essential,
Just a very useful tool,
But a lethal weapon in the
Hands of any inconsiderate fool.
We seem to have a problem
Making drivers understand
Because they own a tin box 
They don’t own the land.

So, speed cops with missiles,
Bodies and wrecks left by verges
To try and discourage those
With antisocial driving urges.
A few burnt out vehicles
Displayed on any Major road 
Could maybe encourage stricter
Adherence of the Highway Code.

Traffic wardens with Tasers.
A good sharp shock just might
Make drivers a little more willing
To park vehicles legally and right.
Regular driving tests
To hone up their skill
Lifelong bans for those
Who illegally kill.

Flesh and blood versus steel
Just isn't any real contest
Whatever the circumstances 
Motor vehicles come off best.
We need new laws and
We need to give them bite.
To drive is a privilege and not,
As assumed, an automatic right

Meltdown

The bars of the jail
those electronics we serve
our cellphones and laptops
new wardens in stir

 Ipods and Ipads 
to Tweet and I.M.
the virtual distance
created within

24/7
we Text back and forth
when Email’s too slow
 a much faster course

But nature is watching
and planning a storm
the power grid wanton
with darkness for sure

And who is to blame
as we cry and we scream
our minds have been sentenced
we no longer dream

The reckoning promised
has come home at last
and this time not virtual
—our prison recast

(Dreamsleep: December, 2021)

Elephant Acrostic

Elastic evil in encroaching European’s enterprising motives.
Level-headed land animal leaves African lowlands.
Eventually they are followed by those who shall not be named.
Private collector hopes tusks will not be a mismatch.
Horrific hunters hold hand-held machetes.
Active game wardens wait for the hunter’s hammiest moment.
Newly arrested poachers rapidly chew their pink mastiche.
Threat to tusks thwarted, wardens sit down to taste tasty tzimmes.

L,A Child

Somewhere lost the children are
One left looking for a car
Another one ran far away
Looking for a decent stay
 the little ones have a plan their devising
While chasing after a sun that's rising
 
A moment or two
And a glimpse from you
Then their wardens go berserk
Wondering why they will not work

Within a memory the children shall find
A different world that's still entwined
What right have they I wonder still
To trudge along that lonely hill

My Prayer

Lord be with it where it went
I have no idea but its body is spent
The time has come to prove your worth
And lift the evil from this curse
Please put the punishment where it belongs
And quit harming those who have done no wrong

As a child I grew to learn
Lord only you and the devil have the right to spurn
So as I age and walk away
Please allow the devil his say
Crimes have been committed and some have escaped
I am asking you lord to unlock Hell’s gate
Release their wardens on this plot of land
And do allow them to reprimand

Tracks Through Time

TRACKS THROUGH TIME

The Sand and pebbles of this stoney 
way
Once made a shore on warm Jurassic sea
High dunes in desert, by great ocean bay
Now heathland slopes and barrows that we see

These tracks between the heather fronds 
touch light
Cross pine tree hurst with gorse in blossom gold
Once paced by tiger, brazen eyes burned bright
And swarthy hunters skilled in ways of old

O’er neat home gardens - flowers bloom in line
Where thrush and warbler each a sweet air sings
Within a span of geologic time
Great pterodactyls soared on scaly wings

Our world, perceived by some: in dire decline
Goes on with little care for our brief lives
Yet we may play a part in its design
At least as wardens - lest it be our shrine

Classroom Prison

A classroom is a lonely place
For a child who feels unloved
For a child who sees the sneers
For a child who thinks they understand the whispers
Feeling each ugly one has his name on it

The classroom is a tortuous cell for a child who has moved eight times
A child who cannot read, a child who does not understand numbers 
Because they have missed the basics or see things in a different way

A classroom is a teasing place for a child who has no friends,
For a child who is not invited to parties.
For a child whose best friend moved last month.

A classroom is a jail cell for some children
They suspect their wardens are mean and unforgiving
Posing as teachers, but how can they trust them 
When they cannot trust their own parents?

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