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Literature Text
The poet locked in shackles of iron and stone,
imprisoned in gloomy dungeons, alone to atone
for crimes and felonies, oh so deceitful he is!
Yet the criminal in truth is the writing pad of his.
Sentenced by the law of all nations in concert,
such renowned reputation; oh would he wish to revert!
But alas no whim of his shall be entertained heretofore.
No child passing by shall smile at his name anymore.
What were the atrocities he was condemned with?
He was a con
for his writing was a devious art
he mentioned not what was
but what he meant to impart.
He was a traitor
for he was not true to his word.
He expressed in entirety once,
but the next time he differed.
He was a murderer
for he killed many a time in his songs
the savior to the maiden
who was meant to live long.
He was a thief
for his robbery was also well known.
He robbed the elfish king,
of his jewels and his throne.
He was a liar,
for he knew not what he had last said.
In one song he was alive;
a while back he was dead.
He was a conspirator,
Oh there was many a plan he devised.
The same crooked character,
each time in a wholly new disguise.
He retreated in a corner in the confining cage.
Alas this poet was mated with the worst fraction of fate.
Sentenced for life he was, no hope was to come.
How lavish he used to eat; now his contentment was in crumbs.
Yet he pulled out his accomplices writhing in his shawl.
A quill and a pad; none mattered now as he sat enthralled
by his last revelation, oh he better be quick to note!
A stranded voyager he was with but a diary to gloat.
It mattered not if he sat at a gold adorned desk
or a wrecked excuse of a table, infected with pests.
He cared not of his sentence but there was no need to prove it.
Alas, the crime of the poet was his being a poet.
imprisoned in gloomy dungeons, alone to atone
for crimes and felonies, oh so deceitful he is!
Yet the criminal in truth is the writing pad of his.
Sentenced by the law of all nations in concert,
such renowned reputation; oh would he wish to revert!
But alas no whim of his shall be entertained heretofore.
No child passing by shall smile at his name anymore.
What were the atrocities he was condemned with?
He was a con
for his writing was a devious art
he mentioned not what was
but what he meant to impart.
He was a traitor
for he was not true to his word.
He expressed in entirety once,
but the next time he differed.
He was a murderer
for he killed many a time in his songs
the savior to the maiden
who was meant to live long.
He was a thief
for his robbery was also well known.
He robbed the elfish king,
of his jewels and his throne.
He was a liar,
for he knew not what he had last said.
In one song he was alive;
a while back he was dead.
He was a conspirator,
Oh there was many a plan he devised.
The same crooked character,
each time in a wholly new disguise.
He retreated in a corner in the confining cage.
Alas this poet was mated with the worst fraction of fate.
Sentenced for life he was, no hope was to come.
How lavish he used to eat; now his contentment was in crumbs.
Yet he pulled out his accomplices writhing in his shawl.
A quill and a pad; none mattered now as he sat enthralled
by his last revelation, oh he better be quick to note!
A stranded voyager he was with but a diary to gloat.
It mattered not if he sat at a gold adorned desk
or a wrecked excuse of a table, infected with pests.
He cared not of his sentence but there was no need to prove it.
Alas, the crime of the poet was his being a poet.
Literature
I'm doing this all for you
Please forget that I am here, but don't forget that I once existed.
This world I wanted to abandon has now embraced me, in the most loving of ways.
Forgetting my old emotions, I embarked on this new journey in life.
But instead of being welcomed.
I was destroyed on the spot.
Fighter planes gunning me down.
Once again I found myself at a roadblock.
Pretending that the exit behind me didn't exist.
Nor did the signs leading me in the right way.
Instead I ran straight into the bullets.
Pretending that I could take them.
That I was made of steel.
I ignored the cries telling me to turn back.
Unable to close my eyes from this fearful sight.
The
Literature
Girls
Girls
This poem is for all the wonderful women, ladies, girls
And I think women actually may rule the world,
But humans of the female persuasion are more than pearls
They’re diamonds; critical to man and his kind, but if men do rule the Earth,
It’s probably a woman’s universe
And don’t let anyone tell you otherwise
The world is yours and you can do anything your heart desires
And to the stereotypes and prejudice, you ladies should throw to fire
You’re more than just a pretty face, an object of desire, or housewife
You’re not meant to just play with barbies or like pink, being into sports is more
Literature
Dawn
A soft shimmer grows slowly
In the East, so lowly.
The black sky sprinkled with white
Could swallow the faint light,
But instead turns navy blue.
The horizon blushes pink
Diluting the dark ink.
As the world's painted with gold
All the colours unfold
And the sun rises anew.
As if stars fell down from high
Down from the paling sky
The ground glitters in the light,
In this early morning's sight,
Covered by the pearls of dew.
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Ah, it has been many a day since I last wrote... or posted. So I have a... work for you which I hope you enjoy. The Felonious Poet has been one of my favorites and I hope that you look at it that way as well. I have not really maintained the meter in it but I prefer it that way. The rhyming though, I hope works. well there is nothing much I would specifically ask you to critique in this work other than your opinion over it and any ideas you would have to make it better. I hope you enjoy it. 
Edit: Well I did change the font and formatting - nothing more perhaps.
Comments84
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Overall Vision Originality
Technique ImpactHey there,
Prettyflour here on behalf of <img class="avatar" src="a.deviantart.net/avatars/p/o/p…" alt="
" title="PoeticalCondition" /> with your critique.Long time, no talk! I hope you’re doing well. Onto The Felonious Poet! I think you did a great job with the rhyming- it worked well throughout the entire poem. My favorite part of this is how you used: He was a con, a liar, ect… Those were the lines I found most powerful.
For me, the meter isn’t consistent, but I find that I like it. I’ve always been drawn to poetry that’s on the unconventional side.
Overall, an imaginative poem that I quite enjoyed, I honestly had a difficult time trying to find anything to actually critique but… I hope this was helpful regardless.
Thanks so much for sharing your words with us!