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Violence Death Poems | Violence Poems About Death

These Violence Death poems are examples of Violence poems about Death. These are the best examples of Violence Death poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Free verse | |

9 11

                                    
                                                               
                             America the Free  ~             America the Brave ~
                           Freedom with price              Capitalism attacked
                            the many taken                   hearts broken still
                              one World                           try to rebuild
                            sadness and tears               fall hard with fears  
                            guilt by association             many accused still
                             souls evaporated                shattered dreams 
                            tears fall on innocence          left with anger 
                             The proud fearless             knew the inevitable
                              policeman fireman             many lives lost
                            grieving does not stop           12 years later    
                               New York city once          proud  & shameless 
                             refusing to let fears in          protecting ours 
                                left in shock still              question's unanswered                    
                               nothing learned                     nothing gained  
                                ready to attack                   many left behind
                              anger greets denial              anger meets rage 
                               unacceptable still                 refusing new love 
                            wanting days to rewind           let us go back in time 
                              acceptance  allowing           the victims leave in peace
                              the brave taken young           leaving us sadly old
                               haunting dreams                     lost spirits dwell
                               no answers to hate            never forgetting that day
                               Evil entered suddenly              unforgiving fate
                                entering our City                we stand with the fallen
                                 How to fix                            how do we Change 




           
            This can be read many different ways ~ This is a poem I am so proud to write ~









          

Copyright © Shanity Rain | Year Posted 2013

Details | Verse | |

Death Muses of ISIS

face down
shot dead- see fear
all round

speak- tell
they'll hear-hush now
death knell 

breathe light
killers are near
tonight


Poet: Debbie Guzzi
Date: 11/26/14
Contest: Whispers of a Muse

Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

Slouching Toward Ferguson

His life was gentle, and the elements
so mixed in him that Nature might stand up and
smolder

bodies in unregistered cars idling softly toward oblivion

some quick to anger
some quick to profit
some quick for justice
some tigers lapping blood
some mothers still at 3AM

hands on shoulders with coos commanding
that in a tear and turned cheek there be 'integration'

parody: an orphan annie reboot
parody: 'little black sambo 'round the tiger pit he go!'

we have rioted the last of our colors
bleated them with flexed toes to the wall at the edge of the universe to reverberate starless between
eternity
nothing
and madness

we have bleated the last of our colors
with centuries gone by without tongue, sockets or lobes

we will bleed the last of our colors
some quick to die
some quick to steal
some quick to burn
some quick to 

lend me your car keys

in a night of full of Alarics
I will bury you

in a night full of piccaninnies
I will melt you to butter

in a night where flames are fishhooks
Sir I need you to step back please

O, pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth,
that
we have cried Havoc
let slip
and with purple'd prose stamped this hollowed earth

We who have lived so long
Sir?
shall with our breath turned mist
I need you to
stain only under stones
step
that pave with slippery breath
back
a headline for last weeks massacre
step
and tomorrow's graves
I need you to
I drew a line in the sand and you crossed it They are not breathing
Look! Look there!
No. I will not.
He dies

Copyright © Brooks Lindberg | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme | |

Water Wall


As he slept in tranquil dream, 
Suddenly he flew, it seemed. 
Thrown and landing on the floor, 
Shaking walls and splintered doors. 

Just as quick, the room grew still. 
Distant tremors he could feel. 
Out the door, and up the rock, 
There he stood in sleepy shock. 

How could oceans disappear. 
Then a hissing he could hear 
And a trembling, heavy roar 
Headed for an empty shore. 

Sunrise turned a greenish hue, 
As he climbed, a better view. 
Seeming far too large, he saw 
What must be a water wall. 

Thought of ancient stories told 
Of a wrath that could unfold; 
Sucking oceans with a breath, 
Spewing endless waves of death. 

Instinct quickly cleared his mind. 
Panic now, he clawed and climbed. 
Up, despite the screams he hears, 
As a village disappears. 

Once an evil came to call, 
Scooped them up and took them all. 
Now he's old, his stories wane, 
Of the morning Satan came.


Gene Bourne 
08-18-14


.

.

 

Copyright © Gene Bourne | Year Posted 2014

Details | Narrative | |

I HAVE DIED SO LONG AGO

I have died so long ago.
The pieces of my bones were buried in Sheol.
It was so dark where I lay now.
My flesh is rotten and almost gone.
I have lived once in this world,
Where a loving family I was involved.
A dearest mom who loved me so,
Loving siblings I treasured most!
I'm a free-spirited young lady.
I love to entertain the world,
Wind hums as I hit the notes.
The nature  became my hidden world.
I was once  a fruit in a tree.
Until one day, a harvester picked me.
Still unripe, too young and fresh.
He stole my innocence.
Too many years past and my seed grew.
I have started bearring fruits.
But the harvester did not content, 
He pulled me out from where I'd been.
He murdered me on one darkest night.
Then buried me beneath the ground.
I'm so helpless, no voice to shout!
My breath is counting one by one.
Until I surrendered the last air in my lungs.
I have died so long ago.
This girl that you used to know,
Isn't the one who writes a poem.
She had died so long ago.
She walks every night to find her home.


Copyright © Aiyah de Torres | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme | |

I Am One Of Them

Life's Hard
It's filled with pain
And misery
My mind is stained
Stained with every memory

Sometimes I think today will be my last day
This place causes me so much pain
I wish I didn't have to stay

Some days are worse than others
I'm starving
Dying for food
I'd do anything

To many things go through my head
Will I be able to keep down my next meal?
Will I live for tomorrow?
Is this terrifying place even real?

I feel so alone
Yet I'm surrounded by people
But this place could not be called a home
There's no life in these places
Or in these faces

Everyone looks dead
As so do I
Most of us haven't been fed

My eyes have been marked
With these dead bodies that lay upon the ground
Without a soul I still look at them
Soon I may be found
As one of them

Copyright © jack Taylor | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme | |

The Undyings' Curse

Deep in the earth, a crypt of rock
slumber guarded by casket locked
Lips grope silence ‘ever more
 rasping thought, remembers whispered lore
Outstretched palms the roots do clench
tranquility stilled by festered stench
And eyes, sleep caked, are propped ajar
ignites no life, but collapsed star

Burned blades sigh, Winds’ dying gasp
bones brittle snap within her clasp
A lonesome howl the moon does draw
vigil broken, it twists its maw 
Upon an arena of endless stone
the granite gates they’ve passed alone
And entered a world of burning eyes
eluded the judge of smoldering cries

A faultless gait, no stumbled draw
a reaping brought  by scythe and claw
Opal edge which shrouds a cause
aberrant blade shapes nature’s laws
Dictate a script, the stars can share
an open secret, a language bare
Steps continue, feet are drawn
across gray grass, undying pawn

Copyright © Avery Swarthout | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme | |

Bonnie and Clyde

They were bank robbers and their names were Bonnie and Clyde.
They robbed banks in six states until 1934 when they both died.
In addition to robbing banks, they also robbed stores and service stations.
They killed thirteen people, they were dangerous and caused devastation.
In 1933 the dangerous duo teamed up with Clyde's Sister-In-Law and her husband, Buck.
Clyde's brother was killed four months later and Bonnie and Clyde soon ran out of luck.
The next year they were driving on a road in Louisiana and they didn't know they were in danger.
They were ambushed and killed by a posse that was lead by a Texas Ranger.
The posse fired one hundred and sixty-seven rounds and Bonnie and Clyde were hit fifty times.
They were deadly murderers and thieves but they ended up paying for their dastardly crimes.

(This is a true story about Clyde Barrow and Bonnie Parker who were killed on May 23, 1934.)

Copyright © randy johnson | Year Posted 2014

Details | Sonnet | |

All We Can Abolish

Horrid hellion hunger that rips apart the soul
Sadly starving siblings where death takes its toll
Crippled children crying a mother lives in hell
While wicked ways of man making money for their sell

Vindictive violent victories, of man vs. man
Kabbalistic killing kids a death wish with a plan
Wrathful widespread Wars with blood over spilling
Betraying battling brothers kiss their cross before the killing

Repeated rancorous raping for only a woman knows
Destructive demeanour dancing the desecration of a rose
Sabotaging silent stealing virginity within the night
Demonic deception dwelling a battle we must fight

Let us pray now for all of this we can abolish
Breathe in strength and give the world its needed polish.


March.21.2016   THE ALPHABET CONTEST - LETTER A- Abolish -By Alfred Vassallo

Copyright © Winged Warrior | Year Posted 2016

Details | I do not know? | |

Now

I feel the world crashing around me,
my breath fading.

Pain surges through my body.

I fear my hope of life is diminishing.

All is lost I can feel the regret of every lost sole.

I long for relief but all I feel is torture.

When will it all end, when will the last hour be, how will I suffer death?


Copyright © Olivia Brag | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

29th Street

Death, die and be dead.
Ah, so gently said.
Just remember destruction is never well fed...

Currently, I am carted by a decrepit flaxen bus
whose savaged seats seem mercilessly ravaged
by beasts of anger and rage with monstrous identities. 

My fluent friends flash as talking trees,
and swollen branches thrash wildly, speaking
morbid messages to me in the roaring rain.

Out of nowhere, I notice modish danger as 
the driver transforms from his jovial image
into a gesturing joker of mocking madness.

Reacting, I claim the frightened formation 
from his foreign tongue to be in unison, 
and we follow his lead like frantic frogs.

As sudden horror roars and fear nears,
bullets crash and clash through muddy windows
of the stalling bus, our possible metal coffin? 

I'm electrocuted by my emotions and my soul sweats.
My unconscious body of breath, heartbeat and blood
are in a trinity of terror, admit silent statues.

My arms quake and quiver as only flesh protection 
against steel, bullets, glass and the burning bus.
Blood rushes like falling rose petals from my open skin.

Death is the black harp where every note is a life.
No! No! I do not want to be a singing song soul!
I desire my 14 year old mortality to remain true!

Now, in the nest of the ambulance cloaked in medicine, 
I reek of sadness as I learn that the bus driver and two
classmates perished from the pollution of power hate.

Death, die and be dead.
Ah, so gently said.
Just remember that destruction is never well fed...

Sponsor Broken Wings

Contest Second Chance 

Copyright © Chantelle Anne Cooke | Year Posted 2016

Details | I do not know? | |

All Lives Matter

Fear is what they clothe them in.
Fear of losing their life because of one mistake.
Fear of losing their life because an officer is having 
a bad day.

Some say it's not racism;
"It's police brutality."
Whatever you call it, I can't 
help but ask "where is humanity?"

Mothers weeping because they're losing their sons.
Teaching them to fight back with silence
but that is no weapon compared to a gun.

Six feet under, leaving families to fight for justice
over their lives.
Societies getting tired of it all-
starting riots and constructing strikes.

How many more time will history repeat itself?
Or are we still writing [his]tory , using coverups
as help?

All lives matter despite of their race.
All lives matter despite their mistakes.

In times such as these justice will demand to be served.
No matter how chaotic, crazy, or obscured.

Life is a gift, one that we should all treasure.
Because all lives matter and we need to protect them;
no matter the measure.

Copyright © Amber Binford | Year Posted 2014

Details | Elegy | |

Oh Syria

Reality is lost and I fear…
That someday…somewhere so near…
I will fall amongst the people so dear…
I fear…that I’ll just be another one…
Another one lost…

I wonder what the cost of my life is
not to get too political…
But I want to know what the cost of my life is
Is it money…is it land
I do not own any of them…I’m just a simple man

I remember…When I ran across your land…
I remember when I kissed my grandmother’s hands…
But you ripped my away from her…From my home
you ripped my away from my heart…you ripped me away from my soul

I feel helpless…I feel low…
It’s hard to play along when I know…I have no role
I have become a slave.
After all the love I gave.

When I look at my country…people I want to save
When I look around me…people I need to change
It seems like a hard thing to do…
when the range of people is way bigger than you

Freedom…oh how much I’ve heard that word
Freedom…oh how this idea has become absurd
when God gave us life…
He warned us only he can take our lives…

Oh Syria…my home
Oh Syria…my all
Oh Syria…what did they hurt you for?
Oh Syria…I’m here…I won’t let them hurt you anymore…
I am Proud to be your son…

Copyright © Zeki Majed | Year Posted 2013

Details | Quatrain | |

Violence In Video Games

There was a loud explosion, followed by shouts of glee
The rat-a-tat-tat of gunshot, was suddenly surrounding me
It was much to my horror that my husband bought the game
And to watch my boys playing it, nearly drove me insane.

They blew things up, they shot at them, and they loved every shot
“But it will warp their minds” I said, my husband said “It will not.”
He promised he would sit with them, but that’s cos he wanted to play
And he said he could drum into them that it is just a game that day.

I peered round the doorway, I watched him guide them through
They cheered, and laughed at gruesome bits, my husband cringed a bit too
But as they grew they learned, but I know this is not true of all
Mine are both big wimps, and even husband on seeing blood will fall.

They cannot stand needles, a paper cut makes them cry
They cannot watch the news, when there is death and destruction awry
So in all honesty I don’t agree with violence in video games at all
But I think it’s up to the parents to make the final call.

Children in days of old, shot each other with a home made stick gun
They made swords out of anything, and always fought to the death in fun.
Play has changed they are safer inside, the trouble now I think this is it
Is when they are left to their own devices and the videos are used just to baby-sit.

©3/01/2013
~GG~
Contest Entry

Copyright © Mandy Tams The Golden Girl | Year Posted 2013

Details | Dramatic Verse | |

Chronic Pink

~~Chronic Pink~~ 
(Parents Peril * The Nightmare)


Evil sits and whispers - sweet lullabies
Chimes within my head,
Damnation scratches at my conscious
Of what was and is!

ASLEEP……………….

Water runs down my toes
Rain taps at my windowpane
A fear; I relive my childhood days
~~Dark April showers bring in a chronic look~~
Motions before daybreak, to face a colorless what!


The trickle of musty wind meshes under my skin
The panic begins to initiate the voices
Unstable - a gash of blood fills the mind

SLEEPWALKING……………….

Dark feelings pollute the inside my head
Visions of slitting my wrist from end to end
My  subconscious betrays my sanity
Praying is what got me through the dark-mares.
I held my own hand that very night
Telling myself it would be all right

Suddenly!

MY EYES OPEN WIDE……………….

Walking down the narrow hall
The Chimes, the Chimes!
Snapped into a moment of crime
The trail of Sweet lullabies came from my parent's room 
Shhh!!! Hush now, *humming to the evil chant*
Whispers of dust whisk through the air
I grab the envelope opener, 
My heart pumps, piercing each neck
One by one, they look up -IT WAS ME-
A demonic child’s laughter erupts
A Chronic Pink look

Pacing off the bed
What have I done?

Cries of nothing led me back into my room.
There and only there, water sits under the sheets
The emptiness in my head was the sign of complete
Falling asleep to the quietness around the room
Waking up to, the parents peril sight every night

My subconscious holds no sympathy
To: relive the same chronic pink memory
AGAIN- I begin to hear the sound of scratching violins
Where dreams of demons wear pink


by;pd
9/10/2012 

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2012

Details | Epitaph | |

John F Kennedy

John F. Kennedy 1917-1963 The great 35th president of US It wasn't really a success He tried to stop the missile bases There were lot of angry faces When there was about to be a war Peace was what he asked for Texas was the place he was shot Later, the criminal was caught He didn't survive the pain His people cried like the rain

Copyright © Heeju Kim | Year Posted 2013

Details | Iambic Pentameter | |

Park Bench Ghost

 
 
Why am I emerging from the dark 
Staring at a bench in City Park. 
Breathless air without a bird in song. 
So I sit, unknowing, yet belong.
 
Sudden waves of anguish flood my mind. 
Feral, vicious, senseless bursts of time. 
Then a calming whisper fills my ear
And my reason now, for being here.
 
Minutes of my final day proceed.
Mockingbirds and peanut squirrels to feed.  
Speckled sun through breezy treetops sway 
And two hidden figures inch my way. 

Choking arms, a weakness, loss of breath; 
Forced behind a thicket to my death. 
Off they bolted free without a trace. 
Now I'm vengeance. Patiently I wait.

I'm aware each footstep, as they move, 
But this peaceful park is where I choose. 
Soon they stalk again. I know the place. 
Little do they know the wrath they face.

Gene Bourne
11-29-13



.

Copyright © Gene Bourne | Year Posted 2014

Details | Dramatic monologue | |

acceptance

   Who's that staring through my window walls, with eyes as old as time
the clock has not yet moved and the wind outside has died
no breath for me to find nor the strength to check the time
unless the minute hand is lying theirs a chance i may have died
I wish this all a dream but the eyes i see dont lie, they have told me with their watching that all men do really cry
yet in vain is all my wishing but perhaps this is delusion of a sedimentary man with his mind ripe for losing 
Come at me then red devil, I shout within my mind yet the tension I had hoped for was delayed and rather dry
no ravishingly velvet flame encircled this such room, nor were the furniture and ottoman  thrown like an old shoe
marvelous the time in which a demon throwns your home and his only one intent is to stare right through your soul
 to that i bid goodnight to you, to do as you wish, regardless of the manner I am nothing more then fish. to be shot out of a barrel for a fellow such as this
If you do deem it fit that I wake another morning all i ask is that the clocks all please return to working order

Copyright © chriss todd | Year Posted 2013

Details | Sonnet | |

RAGE FOR PEACE: HERE AND NOW-TODAY IN THE MIDDLE EAST-

The volatile excerpt reads “The behead-
ings that were carried out by the Isla-
mic State of Iraq and Syria, the 
rage of hate is a control factor for
the power of the leader to be sup-
reme.  Is this the measure of mankind?
The rigor-mortis that lay before us
is a terrorist creed dogma time clock.
None the less than government formed through doc-
trine of Qu’ran and Sunni stated to 
be the divine order of all the land.
al-Baghdadi caliphate is mercen-
ary to the faith of the Middle East.
The rage of hate must be depleted now."

R oused was the first leader and destroyed.
a l-Baghdadi came on board.
G ruesome guerilla killed woman, man, and child for his caliphate.
E quality must be palpability today.

F ear that is caste by ISIS.
O ften is not considered by the people as a terrorist.
R egards are to the governess.

P opulations are nations
E volved to roam.
A spirations are not known.
C aliphate has formed.
E quity and identity is commercial paper shown.
______________________________________|
Penned February 27, 2015!
This poem is a sonnet that is emphasized via an
acrostic for the desired effect on the stated form.

Copyright © Verlena S. Walker | Year Posted 2015

Details | Terza Rima | |

False Pride


I have fallen in deep with pride tonight       
My good intention used against me             
I’m beguiled by ego’s pompous might         

Dismissed was true grace; now I see          
When clouded judgment led me onto           
The reefs below and turbulent sea            

‘Take a moment... maybe turn and run!         
From false pride, you must disengage          
Heed your conscience or come undone         

Hear my words, do not become enraged                                                           
Endless is haunting of conscience, near dead   
In this I implore you, with me, engage!'              

What you choose this night determines tomorrow..                                                             
Turn about my friend; turn away from sorrow'.                                                                      

~*~
7/18/13
For Craig's "Terza Rima Sonnet Contest"
(My first attempt at this and I'm afraid it's far from perfect) 
Thanks to the friends who gave me much needed help...still revising.

Copyright © Annalise a.k.a. Audrey Haick | Year Posted 2013

Details | Enclosed Rhyme | |

Shock and awe

Shock and awe




You can take away my freedom
You can take away my rights
But you will never take away
What I believe is right

You can hunt me and chase me
You can try with all your might
But you will never take away 
What I believe is right


For 100 years or more
You have been knocking at my door
The tyrants and the despots
The army and the law

But there will come a day
When we'll be free
And we will live in harmony
And the world will live as one

Bush and Blair they have no cares
Now there both millionaires
They talked about shock and awe
But all we got was a horrible war

With 100.000 dead
And many many more
We will never know the final toll
But we know who ran off with the oil

The tyrants and the despots
Are they the ones to blame
Or is it Bush and Blair
Who should hang their heads in shame>

Copyright © Michael Ward | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme | |

Cold World

If you thought the war was cold before,
take the temperature of Putin
Worry about a country that is your own,
do not invade what is Ukraine
No blame is dealt on citizens of either
but on poor leadership within

Copyright © ... Gigno | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme | |

A legion of Soldiers

 A legion of soldiers right by my side,
 Ready for battle, we shall nor run nor hide;
 Courage and honor our vows we keep,
 Searching for triumph and not knowing defeat,
 As the enemy approaches, we have no fear;
 My sword yearns for battle, as the time's growing near,
 I turn toward my men on this cold winter night,
 Look upon these soldiers ready to fight,

" Tonight Men! You may sacrifice your life, 
 You may not go home to your children and wife,
 We stand up for glory, no matter the cost,
 We shall not go home with this battle lost,
 We fight for our people and hold our flag high,
 Showing true courage on this very night,
 Our enemy shall buckle underneath our strength,
 We will show them no mercy for we are not weak,
 Gather your armor and follow me now,
 Time that we make our country proud."

 I feel the cold steel, of my, blade in my hand;
 I shall conquer the enemy who tries to steal my land,
 My horse rides swiftly, valiant, and true;
 The time is now for what I have to do,
 The sound of the cries, agony, and pain;
 It's filling my ears and testing my brain,
 Can not feel guilt of taking one's life,
 The pain sheers my side, as I, feel the knife;
 I feel my head spinning, as I, look around;
 Bodies of men and their blood on the ground,
 The realization begins sinking in,
 What is the outcome? Who really wins?

 Every man here is giving their life,
 So who's really wrong or who's even right?
 I fall to the ground and the darkness sets in,
 Remembering my life, family, and friends;
 The life of a soldier is not an easy one, you see?
 We sacrifice ourselves for others to be free,
 As my life leaves my body and my limbs grow cold,
 I remember a story my grandfather told,
 
 " Everyone says there is glory in dying,
 The fact of the matter, maybe, we're lying;
 I've seen many battles that tortured my soul,
 Memories to haunt me, as I, grow old;
 It's good to have courage and strength in your heart,
 But that's why there's wars tearing us apart.
 I don't regret my service or leading my men,
 I just always wondered, when does it end?"

 His words had no meaning, until, this very night;
 My breathes grow shallow and there's clouds in my sight,
 I may die a hero and go out in glory,
 In the end, I only, remain a story;
 We are all equal people with lives to live,
 Why can't we find peace and put war to an end?

Copyright © Roxie Perry | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme | |

Bukowski

Was it said before? Sure.
Was it said this way? I doubt it.
Perspective is in no way obscure,
And his works are nothing without it.

His motivation’s observed in daily life,
Misery, not just some vague inspiration.
He begs for reason, some way to lessen strife;
His words reflect a resounding desperation.

There seems a need at times to clarify, 
But that’s allowed in his terms only;
So many thoughts seem somewhat ‘rarefied’,
Fed his fire, but made him lonely.

No ‘underachiever’, not just another fool,
But still seeking solace by the glass;
Tempering his stagger and his drool 
With just a bit of ‘kiss my ass.’ 

But, usually, genius ‘sots’ come to ground,
Lucid moments - on the square;
Their driving ‘bolts’ of genius, word or sound,
Only written because they dare.

Yes, you can feel the written “heart”,
But few of us can realize that sort of pain;
No isolated misery… of many lives a part,
Each begs an answer... “Who’ll stop the rain?”

Yes, he’s lived it, seen it, and told it well;
But Timing is the Master of one’s Fate.
Is the timing right?  Funny…only time will tell…
Will you will be a whining sot or dare to be great?

One success can be lucky, we’ve seen that before.
One book, one song, then quietly fade away.
But six novels later, we should know the score;
He must have had something to say.

So, at the perfect time, someone heard.
Someone who was “someone” took someone under wing.
And to those with interest and empathy, they sold his words;
Saying they “are genius” and with “ugly truth” they ring.

But did he create any redeeming changes or impacts?
Yes, what singular influence did all his artful whining bring?
None... just a relentless, repetitive diatribe of sad facts.
Oh, yes…..and a little “ching ching”.

Entered in the "Idiot or Genius" contest 27 March 2014

not so genius

 

Copyright © Robert Candler | Year Posted 2014

Details | Narrative | |

A Doctors Ballad

I never really understood people until I took apart my old school chum Rick.
Now I know exactly what makes the human heart tick.
The intricacy of the human circuitry is Gods most artful work without uncertainty.
Like a great operatic performance accompanied by a grand orchestra, all our organs sing as one and all together.
To give such life as this in a manor of theatrical grandeur, but life comes at a cost however, this is something that we can not sever, for one soul to live it must take from another.
You see hunting a human is just like hunting any animal, you always track those that are weak and incapable.
I study those that indulge greatly in life's pleasurable sins, I always proceed to take them apart starting with their limbs.
To squander such a gift is a crime against those souls no longer living.
It is a crime that should be dealt with swiftly and unforgiving.
You may find my words harsh and cruel but punishment is dealt where punishment is due.
The scholars and gossips call me a Devil worshiper or a Satanist.
But I am an admirer of God and I dream to be like him, a great creationist. 
To some I'm known as the mad doctor who haunts the river Rhine, but to my acquaintances I'm known simply as Victor Frankenstein.

Copyright © Damien Biggs | Year Posted 2014

Details | List | |

delivery of death

Sketch and Freak
Drag and Jonez
Waste life left
Scared to speak
brittle bones.

Copyright © Joel Thornton | Year Posted 2014

Details | Lyric | |

Stand Up

Put down the guns, lay down the knives
We are losing too many of our young lives,
The violence that you’re watching on TV
That is what’s happening, it’s our reality.

The death count’s rising, what are we going to do?
The Police need your help if they are to help you;
Are we going to wait until it comes to our door?
Or are we going to stand up and say “no more!”

We’re living like prisoners locked behind bars
A false sense of security as we run to our cars,
This is not the way for our people to live
Something must be done, something’s got to give.

All day long a mother sits and moans
Another senseless killing hits too close to home,
Johnny’s in school you’d think he would be safe
But this too has become just another violent place.

Our justice system has failed us once again
A murderer is on the street, a family’s in pain,
Another clever lawyer has earned his pay day
The children are now afraid to go out and play.

We run the risk of losing an entire generation
While damning the future of this great nation,
We must all be ready to stand up and fight
Because what is happening is just not right.

© 2016 Donovan T. Turnquest

Copyright © Donovan Turnquest | Year Posted 2016

Details | Elegy | |

A Soldier's Elegy

A kestrel dips into an updraft
thinking he knows the world
tranquility gurgles 
through silent valleys
over mountains
around the earth
refracted 
through the wind

The creature soars ever higher
in great swoops and dives
the horizon curves as it eludes vision
the stars pulse their siren
but thrill denies
adrenaline overrules
their ambient warning

Gust to gust each fades 
quicker than the last
whispers carry the weight of wings
and their soulful song breaches sanity
prayers of rightful good
where petty purple banners
crest twinkling hearts

The last thermal ridden
last lyric dies
as flight’s drone fades
upturned wings alone
the sky empty oblivion
as the sun aligns its beady eye
to the looping path of the bird

Two brittle forms 
grapple in light
which blots out the senses
and protects 
what can never be touched
divine oblivion 
smites the naive bird
an archangel buried
in a crypt 
six feet deep.

Copyright © Avery Swarthout | Year Posted 2015

Details | Dramatic monologue | |

What Happened

As you ended our video call,
You suited up,
Helmet,
Armor,
Gun.
Just another day in that god forsaken place,
As soon as you stepped off the plane it felt like being in an oven.
But hey,
What did you expect.
The boys and you all load up into the Humvee and take off with the rest of the Caravan.
Just another day.
Just another day…
There wasn’t supposed to be an explosion.
There weren’t supposed to be screams.
There wasn’t supposed to be any blood shed.
It was supposed to be just another day.
But all of that did happen.
And you were taken away from me and Mom and Dad and our little sister,
In an instant.
You were supposed to come home.
We were supposed to celebrate your birthday together,
Our sister baked you a cake for when you came home.
But… now you can’t,
And you won’t,
Ever again.
Because you’re gone.
And you can’t ever come back.
But know that we love you,
Know that I love you,
Know that I loved you, My Brother.
Most Importantly know that we miss you,
every waking moment.
Because you’re gone,
And we’ll never see you again.
Did I tell you Mom and Dad still pay your phone bill?
They pay,
So that we can hear your voice on your voicemail recording when we miss you.
I call,
Everynight.

Copyright © Katelyn Roussell | Year Posted 2014

Details | Villanelle | |

The Arrow

The arrow pierced his armour
causing an open painful wound
he had thought there would be glamour

He lay waiting feeling amour
as he saw a woman gowned
The arrow pierced his armour

His wound she did kindly cover
to her spirit he's attuned
he had thought there would be glamour

she poured into it liquor
which stung making it burn and pound
the arrow pierced his armour

It was now letting out odour
she made sure it was tightly bound
He had thought there would be glamour

At his grave a single mourner
her tears were falling without sound
the arrow pierced his armour

No glory here just some clamour
dead he lay no longer earthbound
The arrow pierced his armour
he had thought there would be glamour



sadly many young men think war glamorous
until they face the battlefield soon to
learn there is none just pain, suffering 
and death.

Copyright © Shadow Hamilton | Year Posted 2014