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Best Murder Poems

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Details | Murder Poem | |

Jesse's Girl

Rick Springfield's Jesse's Girl was playing on the radio, we were all partying guys and girls out on my patio. I prayed no one or you would catch me looking your way, noticing what I was doing for the better part of the day. The music?, just irony, go ahead give it a whirl, here I am awestruck by you my best friends girl I just know this is so wrong all the thoughts I have about you. You always look like you smell like soap taste like morning dew. You always look like you just came out of the dryer. I really have to ignore this urge or end up in the fryer. There's a girl just to my left I know it's me she's talking to. She might as well be talking to the wall all I can see is you. It's my party, my house but I grab my jacket and leave. Suddenly I hear someone running behind me, it's Steve " You ok guy, you're white as a sheet, are you ill?" he says, worry on his face. I reply "I'm fine, chill." "Good. Mind if I join you?" he counters and he's all in. Guilty is my middle name but I don't tell him of my sin. "I've been staring at your girlfriend all night" I think! "Is that what I should tell him?" I am on the brink. I change my mind and I decide not to tell him anything. We walk for a while before he shows me a wedding ring. He explains he is ready to take the leap. I listen quietly I don't make a peep. What is wrong with me? This is my childhood friend, I might as well be Judas look at me...as if I wish his end. He is Caesar and I am Brutus with a knife in my hand. How did I get here what am I thinking this was unplanned. I congratulate him, his hug says it all. He suspects nothing, nothing at all. I know I will be selling my eternal soul when we finish, at the end of this stroll. I haven't told you the other side until now, she looks at me too. She can't take this vow. I know I will lose a lifelong relationship. I don't care. I'm going for it. Let it rip I 'm going to move in on her this very night or in the morning in the bright of the light, share my feelings. I am sure she feels the same way too I am sure she will, if she didn't I wouldn't know what to do. Steve must of left, but when? He was just with me. Two men lead me to a room. Lock the door for me. Everyone must of left. I hear screams in the hall. I think they injected something in me, the gall. The dream the dream I am having...again. Rape...murder...bodies, Steve, her, me, insane. What did I do?...what did I do?...wet I'm wet. Sleep. I have to sleep. That's it you bet. I bolt up. She's in bed with me. She's with me. A nightmare. I was having...it was all make believe. These nightmares have to stop...these bad dreams. Go back to sleep. Yes. In the hall, what are those screams? 03/10/2014

Details | Murder Poem | |

A Ghost's Testimony Co-written with Jack Horne

*NOTE:  Jack and I wonder how many of you have heard of the Zona Shue case – 
an American murder victim who had revenge in Virginia in the late 1800s.
Zona was killed by her husband, Edward Shue, who then took elaborate steps to 
cover his crime.  In an attempt to disguise Zona’s broken neck, Edward dressed her 
corpse in a scarf and high necked dress, stuffed her coffin with pillows (to support 
her vertebrae) and refused to allow even the doctor near the body. 

     However, Zona appeared to her mother and revealed the truth. Following 
exhumation and an autopsy, Edward was found guilty of murder.  It was the only 
case in American history where information provided by a ghostly apparition was 
admitted as evidence for consideration by jurors.

     Jack and I are co-sponsoring a contest on ghost poems.  Our co-write "A Ghost's 
Testimony" below will give you an idea what we're seeking in entries.


"A Ghost's Testimony"

"She must have fallen down the stairs:
A tragic accident," he said.
"I've washed her body, laid her out -
Oh, Doctor Knapp, my Zona's dead!"
 
       "No accident!  Shue broke my neck.
       Mother, please hear my ghostly plea.
       Take him to court and make him pay;
       It's murder in the first degree."
 
“I’ve dressed her in her high necked frock…
Thought pillows by her neck looked fine…
 She’d want to wear this scarf,” he wept.
“But no one touch the corpse - she’s mine!”
 
       "Thanks, Mom, for bringing this to court.
       The autopsy was not done right!
       With malice Shue cut my life short.
       Exhume my body; shed some light."
 
“Her mother wants to see me hang,
But she can’t prove my guilt,” he fumed.
“She claims the body sheet turned red, 
And wants to have my wife exhumed.”
 
       "The judge disagreed and allowed
       My spirit world testimony.
       Shue, my killer, was not so proud;
       A death in jail for this phony!"

Details | Murder Poem | |

Dead Poet Dear Lord

Dead Poet

Are you a poet?
Are you a good poet?
No you can not be
You must be dead
In poetry DEAD is good
We can read and NOT listen to the dead ones
Silence is golden
One day I am sure
I will be a good poet
With all my cheering fans



Dear Lord

Dear Lord, please don’t take me now
Let me here awhile longer
Dear Poet, I will let you there on earth until you
Compose the best poem ever written
Oh Dear Lord, bless you, bless you


Are you all hippopotamuses?
Some one was asking , not me

Details | Murder Poem | |

Men of shame

Men of Shame

There’s a kind of sickness going round
That makes man act cruel.
He lives in a sordid little world
Creating his own rules.
Ruling with an iron fist
Cause power be his thing
Because his minds is very small
Such misery he brings.

His women have no rights at all
For they be mere possessions.
This ugly kind of human being
Has failed he all those lessons
That teach to act with decency
And treat a woman well
This evil man he treads a path
That leads him straight to Hell

His lady shrivels up so all
As he breeds within her fear.
He’ll raise his fist to bully her
Then say he holds her dear.
She doesn’t know just where to turn
She is caught within his trap
As he treats her like the enemy
And makes her life like crap.

Now when I meet a man like this
I look at all his shame
I don’t care about his childhood
It’s only he to blame.
He takes a Goddess, stops her flow
And bends her to his will
This man is such an evil beast
Maybe, he’ll even kill.

Written in 2003.

Details | Murder Poem | |

A Soul Cries

A soul cries yet nobody hears him
They say he has neither a head nor limbs
But he has a soul and a spirit
Undesirable is the soul to be taken from the womb

A soul cries yet nobody hears him
His voice is so mild that no one can hear him
He’s damned for a crime he didn’t commit 
No supplication and inspiration to share

A soul still cries yet nobody hears him
He has neither words nor songs to hymn
He’s languishing from a lashing whip 
A victim to hatred, dubiety and immorality 

A soul cries yet nobody seems to care
He pleas for his precious life to be spared
Yet with a mild voice no one will give an ear
 With despair he cries and screams into the night

A soul cries yet this girl has turned a deaf ear
A voice tells her “eliminate him from here” 
But a master fate will sometimes have it to be
The Dame escorted him six feet underground

The Poet Preacher © 2014

Details | Murder Poem | |

The Murder of the Crows

Birds in broken wings
grieve through mourning eerie skies
Humming death's anthem





(Inspired by Raul's contest-Tattered Wings)
not for the contest


Charma

Details | Murder Poem | |

Serial Murder in Haiku

Serial Murder in Haiku

Murder one: Mary Lou

A prostitute dead
Motionless body cold blood
Killer on the loose

Murder Two: Stephaney

Body found in ditch
Brutally mutilated
Police have no clue

Murder Three: Erica

Another girl dead
Throat slit in dark alleyway
Body left no clue

Murder Four: Julie

Girl strangled in car
Hand prints found around her neck
Police have a clue

Murder Five: The catch

Murder of four girls
Sentence to life in prison
No chance of parole

Details | Murder Poem | |

Foolish Demented Heart

Foolish Heart, since you don’t stop
That most foolish rant and rave
I will have to tie you up
And bury you in a cave

That would surely silence you
And let me live in peace
For now you just torment me
And I can’t live in ease

You’ve not given wisdom right
You’ve left me bruised and torn
When I gave heed to your voice
I was left to grieve and mourn

You are a foolish foolish heart
Your chambers devoid of light
Wisdom you beat and tied up
And you plunged me into night

You made me share secret thoughts
You made me open to slight
And I had to suffer shame
Flagellate myself with might

You’ve proven a real traitor
I see who you really are
You chose to see his beauty
And have left me with a deep scar

You fell for those angel eyes
You fainted at that warm smile
Made me act like a schoolgirl
Too innocent to beguile

But I fell flat on my face
With myriad eyes staring on
You are a damned wretched thing
I demand that you be gone

Stay hidden in that dank cave
With your mouth gagged till you bleed
You put me through hell and back
Your damn voice I will not heed

Aw…I’m a free woman now
I will go and seek revenge
Of all those who mocked my love
My spilt blood I will avenge

Devoid of love and feelings
I’m a Snow Queen made of ice
I enact your wicked ways
For they think I’m soft and nice

My foolish demented heart
Stay tied up until you rot
You did your damndest uptmost
But love’s fool…I AM NOT!

Eileen Manassian Ghali

Details | Murder Poem | |

"Killing under the cloak of murder is no different than murder"

When you fall into slumber on the pavement
Or 
When you wake up at another's

Prevent me from suffocating
In the heat of delight
Delight cant be real
when your behind it all
Because its you behind it all

Or slip into the light
fish me some rainbows
That fade when you bring it back
Because i live in the dark
I live in the dark

Don't take your murderer for granted






-Title quote by Albert Einstein

Details | Murder Poem | |

The Murder of My Heart

Another stab, another wound, another scar to bear
I wonder if my little heart will find the will to care

It has been mutilated; its fibers have been shred
By all the hurtful things that to it have been said

Its beating is becoming faint, its rhythm is disturbed
Brought on by the rejection that on it was conferred

The blood is gushing out, a never ending stream
Perhaps it will finally stop while I sit and dream

The murder of my heart, was done without a scene
By the outer evidence, the job was very clean

The murderer got away, he left no fingerprints
No one knows his identity, for he left behind no hints

I buried my little dead heart and paid it proper due
The gravesite is a mystery that I’ll not reveal to you

Don’t bother to stop by and place flowers by the grave
Your pretentious act of kindness, your honor will not save

A murderer you are and a heinous one you'll remain
For though I have no heart, I still feel the phantom pain.

Eileen Manassian Ghali

Details | Murder Poem | |

APPLES ON OUR ROCK

There once reigned a great king on our Rock
Who dared the West and defied their bloc
Dark shades, face of a frown
Short brute so wanted down
Down, oriental appples on our Rock.

Details | Murder Poem | |

The Bell House Tower

We seen a dim light upon top of the Bell House Tower
a dark shadow slipped by it in the midnight hour.

What was that? I asked my friend, I don't know
she said, but it looked like something that's met
it's end.

The wind was blowing with such a strange howling
and all the city lights were off making it dark for
mysterious prowling.

A loud, maddening laughter rang through the air and
stood on our arms, every one of our hairs. We ran like
crazy down the ally way and never looked back until
the light of day.

The next morning a crowd had gathered at the Bell House
Tower and every one was shocked to see it was the bell
ringer who rung the bell, hour upon hour.

Not a sign made anyone sure of what happened, but we know
what we heard in the midnight hour, mad laughter from upon
top the Bell House Tower.

Details | Murder Poem | |

Murder in Randolph County

 (Spenserian Sonnet) 

A flagrant man is Robert Brown, a swine;
his eyes glow red like ember coals of fire.
Will fate be kind or bring him bitter brine
and will his soul the evil one require?
Did in pretense he seek to prove desire
and rise to plant a kiss upon her lips?
He sliced her neck and watched his wife expire,
as blood streamed down and dripped from fingertips.
Yet rumor spread as neighbors came to grips
with horror of a murder in their town,
and newsmen raced to pen details in scripts
while lawmen flocked to chase the villain down.
          I held my mother in my arms and cried;
          her eyes met mine in sorrow as she died.


Details | Murder Poem | |

REVOLUTION BABY

 REVOLUTION BABY


Am from the backseats of mean streets
I got my eye aiming the Wall Street
They said education is the key
I wonder why they made it expensive for we,
Am sitting around hood rats,
Gangsters and Ex- prisoners
Sniffing, snatching, stuffing stuff
Mama expects a lawyer, a doctor, a mayor,
Newsflash!
We are in the middle of a crisis
Am the original copy of a son-of-a-gun
I define the odds
I believe to break a law,
Is to make a road
You go east or west,
Home is still the best
But with a bullet in your chest
Don’t mess with these streets
They will give you a free ride to hell
Pot and crack do rounds all over,
It’s a mess,
I am needed, you are needed,
We are needy
Damn!
We are in a man eat man generation
You either survive or succumb
There’s a billion ways to die,
Choose one,
It’s time for a change,
Change of perspectives,
Change of attitude,
Change of behavior
Let’s get out of our comfort zone,
Coz that’s what’s drowning us,
We need a change
Change for the better
It’s revolution time!!

Details | Murder Poem | |

december day

December day

There are no words that we can say,
About the tragedy that happened on that December day.
When an elementary school came under attack
And all those little lives will never come back.

Our hearts cry out and eyes fill with tears,
For the parents who now have to face their worst fears.
Their child is gone taken away
On that tragic December day.

Innocent children from age’s five to ten,
What could they have possibly done to meet such a tragic end.
And to the teachers whose lives were also lost,
You protected the children and paid the ultimate cost.

written by nancy stoy

Details | Murder Poem | |

Ghostly Dare

The wrought iron gate creaked open with the push of my hand 
My nerves shook, my heart thumped, it was hard for me to stand 
But a dare is a dare and with my new digital camera ready 
I took tiny steps toward that haunted house, unsure unsteady 

The old house looked so eerie, it sure seemed super scary 
Stepping up the old pine steps, my knees shaking, I am wary 
Stories of days of old, the boy, the girl, and the old stepmom 
The thunderous night, the howl of the wind, heart be calm 

It was said one night that the papa went frightfully insane, 
Lashing out, he inflicted fear, with screaming rage and pain. 
Oh the house was beyond repair that night the ghosts moved in. 
There was no one to tend the gardens, there was no next of kin. 

The three lonely ghost roam freely each and every night 
Looking for answers to questions of their painful fright 
The house since abandoned, certain nights it has shook 
Fears of the deadly horrors that the three martyrs took 

With my camera ready, I sat there in a candlelit room 
Hoping for an image that may expose their chilling doom 
I saw the lady, and the children, I snapped a picture then fled 
Arriving home, no one would believe, for my batteries were dead.  
 

Details | Murder Poem | |

Thrice a Widow

She's thrice now had a scarlet groom
Adorned in silk this dusty room
	She sobbed away sorrows in black
	When she discovered the knapsack
	In gold and pearls, did sorely lack
	And her head and palm greeted, smack!
	Like his body met the floor, thwack!
	The house empty, less her they track
Hardened heart, hollowed like a tomb
Was it lover's spat or planned doom?


------------
Duo-rhyme? Not quite got the iambic tetrameter down, but I tried.

Details | Murder Poem | |

The Craigslist Thrill Killers

Elytte and Miranda Barbour murdered a man just to get a thrill.
It is always very stupid and senseless when people kill.
They said they killed him because they wanted to kill someone together.
If you're wondering when they'll get out of prison, the answer is never.
They pled guilty to Second Degree Murder and other charges and got life.
Elytte will never be able to kill another person and neither will his wife.
When Troy LaFerrara answered the Barbours Craigslist ad, he didn't know he was in danger.
While in court, LaFerrara's loved ones were very furious and they expressed their anger.
The Barbours are only 22 and 19, they're young enough to be my kids.
If they were my children, I wouldn't forgive them for what they did.

(This is a true story about Elytte and Miranda Barbour who murdered Troy LaFerrara.)

Details | Murder Poem | |

Aaron or Jack

AARON OR JACK

The shadows against the walls were looming,	
Creeping silently across the burb,			
When through the mist an eerie sound,		
A muffled scream, breaks the night.			
No one at the pub heard,				
No one saw a thing,					
Their life went on,				
Without care,					
Until,							
The							
Dawn							
Broke through					
And first light					
Exposed the truth				
The crowd now gathered,			
At the lane way across,			
The pub where they had partied,	
In the dark, dark room for Halloween,
With the prostitute that lies face down, dead.

Penned by: Ronald Zammit
Dated: 13.09.14
Contest: In a dark, dark room for Halloween
Sponsor: Pendleton Arkwright

Details | Murder Poem | |

Solomon Mahlangu: My Blood will Nourish the Tree that will Bear the Fruits of Freedom

(special thanks to a friend who shared this tribute to Solomon Mahlangu)



Solomon Mahlangu: My Blood will Nourish the Tree that will Bear the Fruits of Freedom:



Solomon Mahlangu was trained as an MK soldier with a view to later rejoining the struggle in the country.


He left South Africa after the Soweto Uprising of 1976 when he was 19 years old, and was later chosen to be part of an elite force to return to South Africa to carry out a mission commemorating the June 16th 1976 Soweto student uprising.


After entering South Africa through Swaziland and meeting his fellow comrades in Duduza, on the East Rand (east of Johannesburg), they were accosted by the police in Goch Street in Johannesburg.


In the ensuing gun battle two civilians were killed and two were injured, and Mahlangu and Motloung were captured while acting as decoys so that the other comrade could go and report to the MK leadership.


Motloung was brutally assaulted by the police to a point that he suffered brain damage and was unfit to stand trial, resulting in Mahlangu facing trial alone.


He was charged with two counts of murder and several charges under the Terrorism Act, to which he pleaded not guilty.


Though the judge accepted that Motloung was responsible for the killings, common purpose was argued and Mahlangu was found guilty on two counts of murder and other charges under the Terrorism Act.


On 15 June 1978 Solomon Mahlangu was refused leave to appeal his sentence by the Rand Supreme Court, and on 24 July 1978 he was refused again in the Bloemfontein Appeal Court.


Although various governments, the United Nations, International Organizations, groups and prominent individuals attempted to intercede on his behalf, Mahlangu awaited his execution in Pretoria Central Prison, and was hanged on 6 April 1979.


His hanging provoked international protest and condemnation of South Africa and Apartheid.


In fear of crowd reaction at the funeral the police decided to bury Mahlangu in Atteridgeville in Pretoria.


On 6 April 1993 he was re-interred at the Mamelodi Cemetery, where a plaque states his last words:


‘My blood will nourish the tree that will bear the fruits of freedom.

Tell my people that I love them.

They must continue the fight.’



Mahlangu died for a cause!



Salute!



The Struggle Continues…




(special thanks to a friend who shared this tribute to Solomon Mahlangu)

Details | Murder Poem | |

In The Dark

Walking alone in the dark
All is silent
Until theres a snap of a twig
Hands come from behind
Holding my neck
I try to scream
Noone Hears
The hands grow tighter
I give up fighting
I take a final breath
He lays me in the bushes
My body cold and still
Noone knows who did it
They probly never will

Details | Murder Poem | |

Soul Consumption

Mistaken for hip hop
Spitting for dom kops
Naked truth spoken 
Covered in tabletops
Growing word crops

My mood is bullied but never ruled
I’m good
My slimes are rhetorically rude
Responds in smiles swimming in your irritated pool
Bulls speaking horns in death schools 
Demolition tools 
My watery eyes are cool
Separated by troops
Disguised better than Lagoons  

Covered in hospital tubes
I am that venomous geometrical spider
Not groups speaking cartoons 
My home is covered in tubes
Coughing news
Sicker than my flows
On eight brains i crawl across state ears
Crazy life to the fullest.                                          
Arrows in reverse mode sipping blood tots from lots and lots of those use less Hottentots in three feet pots hotter than hopeless thoughts.  

Bank my peers
One night stand is my rage in a page like spears
Never mind my lyrical age

Blocking space 
Renovate broken dreams and fumes in your base
Domestic brains

Choices and stains
Prison to some is a vision
Charles Manson the griffin 
The anthem rhythm
Human consumption is currently hidden

Radical 
Cannibals are just animals.                           
Like we hunt animals when animals eat animals we eat animals we are cannibals 
Goats on coats
Skins covered is rose 
Death exchanged in forms of hope stones thrown in faces like those animal roles chose to feed on others of its own kind and souls posed in skeleton bows.        
Arrows in reverse mode sipping blood tots lots and lots of those use less Hottentots in three feet pots hotter than hopeless thoughts.  

See the face of God in my eyes
I speak truth in rhymes
The universe is expanding your dreams are pending
Till further note i noticed you consumed the wrong flesh
That’s not my soul  

Addicted to the drill 
Still I kill you in your own hill
That's more than a skill

(c) Ray

Details | Murder Poem | |

Lost Identity: View point of a slave

Why is my skin color different?
Did God make me this way?
When he made me, did he have
intentions on me being a slave?

And I thought we were all brothers,
including all the ones of different colors.

But why are they beating and hurting the others.
Someone save me, I didn't choose this life.
These scars, they've carved me with the sharpest
knives.

All I have is my faith.
Because if I'd held on to anything else
it'd be theres to take.

What is it that I ask for?
Equality, I preach.
Something small to you, 
but makes a difference
for me.

Whipping, spitting, hitting on me.
Raping our women in your wife's sheets.
Taking our children and turning them into workers.
No sense of empathy, grief or composer.

For the brotha' on my left and my sista' on the right,
with the courage that I hold I will continue to fight.
You have taken away my freedom, and most of my life.
But what you have failed to obtain is my state of mind.

Go ahead work my body, and do all that you please.
This is just a shell anyway, it's not coming with me.
You spit, you laugh, thinking you gained the world.
You think you have power because you've raped a young girl.

Stand tall sir with all of that pride.
And go ahead and hold it until the day that you die.
But your day will come when you'll fall to your knees.
Feeling the burn on your body from the whips you've given me.

"The LORD is my shelter,"
I continue to say.
While my soul goes up as God takes me away.
I wish you peace with smile on my face,
knowing that God teaches the fullness of grace.



Details | Murder Poem | |

he is leaving home

                            
                  In great respect of the band I grew up listening to
                       as sure as Mom passed down Saturday Chores 
                      for I had been chosen to scrub bathroom floors `

                    Yet a familiar sound would bring me to keep scrubbing
                       The red album, The blue album , The White album 
                        Then .. Abbey Road , always remembering the sad look on
                  Ringo's face ,  something hard to understand underneath~
                       
                      I get it now, what you were saying all those years ago ,
                    the many sad lonely tears , secret tears , secret fears 
                    For Maxwell's Hammer was a real one . It wanted silence

                    Going back ..remembering when John Lennon died 
                      I was in Arkansas saddened with the world .
                      Then seeing his face saying " Drag isn't it " 
                      No .. this was not my hero in music and song .

                      he was a stand in hired William , he filled his shoes 
                      bringing diversity to create so much beautiful music from loss

                       One left standing , alone;; grief struck on back cover ~
                       The other identity hidden, tried to be part of ..coming together
                                                                                                                                                                        
                            his  world of secrets
                        He to suffers today , in fear , Faul~
                       
                        Too many years gone by .let us tell the Truth. Let us be free
                         The very sad long and winding Road ~
                         Let us Bury our real Paul. 

                         No more " Mystery tour "
                             No more fear 
                                Let him be in peace ~


           Inspired by " The Last Testament of George Harrison , Is Paul Dead ? "

                






Details | Murder Poem | |

Angels

I live where angels fear to walk
Don’t ask questions, no one’s gonna talk
Another kid’s innocence is being take
Their thirst for blood will never slacken
Love is something only found in a fairytale
But those don’t comfort, when home is spelled H E L L
Left alone for days on end
Nothing else to do but play pretend
Trying to get lost in a dream
But when that doesn’t help, all you can do is scream
I’ve called the devil by his first name
His eyes are cold, mine are the same
I live where angels fear to tread
By the time you find me, I’ll probably be dead