Poetry Forum Areas

Introduce Yourself

New to PoetrySoup? Introduce yourself here. Tell us something about yourself.

Looking for a Poem

Can't find a poem you've read before? Looking for a poem for a special person or an occasion? Ask other member for help.

Writing Poetry

Ways to improve your poetry. Post your techniques, tips, and creative ideas how to write better.

High Critique

For poets who want unrestricted constructive criticism. This is NOT a vanity workshop. If you do not want your poem seriously critiqued, do not post here. Constructive criticism only. PLEASE Only Post One Poem a Day!!!

How do I...?

Ask PoetrySoup Members how to do something or find something on PoetrySoup.

Violence Mystery Poems | Violence Poems About Mystery

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

If you don't find the poem you want here, try our incredible, super duper, all-knowing, advanced poem search engine.

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 | Dramatic monologue |


Tiptoe into my room
and hide behind the curtain;
You wait to slither onto me
and be my demon.

You lurk in the shadows
waiting to pounce upon me;
You seek to capture my soul,
and you do so through my body.

Hallucination or reality,
you make it hard to comprehend;
you show me a starting line
on the dead end.

Tearing through my flesh
you bruise my bones;
clenching on my nerves,
you make my sanity moan.

Flowing through my veins,
you want to poison me;
suffocating my being,
with your invisible brutality.

Would you make me yours
and never let go;
Or would you destroy me
and throw me down the road?

Copyright © Amrita Jha | Year Posted 2015

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


Copyright © Gene Bourne | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse |

Chalk Full of Great Lines

Chalk Full of Great Lines

The body has been removed
To my place of sanctified worship
Where all is quiet and piano soothing
I am Ernesto Cortazar
Your Coroner and host for the evening
Here is my creation and story
In the docket I bask in my glory!

She in her balcony
The opera on their dram of the second half
If only she knew
She to be
Behind the curtains with me
The final act of the soiree

The expression she gave oh screaming pleas
As I slit her throat in a lustful three
The blood of our love
Gushing and gushing for only me
Her love and bloods devotion
Only chalk lines point now to me

The detective goes "Ernesto"
Another like all the ones before
I smile and fain sadness
Yes detective, any tell tale signs?
None that I can see Ernesto
He seems to be a silent one
A ghost who comes and goes
With no humanity or heart to show

Are the chalk lines all drawn detective?
Yes Ernesto, you may take possession of the body now
I whisper "I have taken possession long before you arrived senior"
I and the detective play the same dance
He is mystified at these crimes
As the blood of love dances, drop by drop, into my mouth

She is with me now
Alone and with our coronary desires
She is cold, and silent, and icy
Welcoming my final intrusions
The dance of the dead
Her blood drained
I drink the wine of my lustful crime
I so enjoy the mystery
As they all stare
At my beautiful chalk lines

She was all of nineteen
She was always mine
I Ernesto
Drank the rubies blood wine

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2016

Details | Dramatic Verse |

Mind of a Serial Killer VIII

Twilight has come casting a beautiful flicker upon my silver knife
who has taste the women who gave a price and in the end their life

Some were quick because I tend to bore and some took days upon my board
as my mind remembers and bask back in time of the wonderful gore

The steps I climb to your lonely room while the candles give off the scent of honey dew
'My Sweet Devine' it is now time as the clock sings it's suspenseful chime

Your door I open and with grace I stride to your bedside to look upon my bride
'Oh my Sweet Devine' I love the fear as you cringe and try to hid

With a quick cut I make upon your thigh thou not to deep just enough to make you weep
only you don't make a peep just gasp from your breath giving a long sigh I can tell
you wish to defy
I wish to hear you speak and cry out for my pride
but you glance upon my face with a look of disgrace and in a soft whisper
you state,
'My Sweet Devine will you be mine you ask? The answer is no but untie my hands
and I will make you mine for I to have a great show and plenty of time.

Do you feel me? Do you want more?
Hint: Who is the real serial killer?
T Reams copyright 2015

Copyright © TAMMY REAMS | Year Posted 2015

Details | Acrostic |

Criminal Minds

Crimes twisted and horrible are solved by a group of Elite FBI profilers,
re-runs I watch even though I have seen them several times, it matters not.
In each episode the BAU (Behavioral Analysis Unit) solve a mystery.
My favorite character is Spenser, pretty boy, genius, special agent,
in eleven seasons, I followed each nasty crime, at the end my prize is a quote.
Now, I am waiting breathlessly for Season 12 to start in September.
All the characters lives are part of the drama, that makes it interesting to me.
Last episode of Season Eleven, hunky Derek resigns to care his wife and baby.

Most of the characters are like family, JJ, did you know, Henri is her real son,
interesting how Emily just faded away, and Garcia, baby girl, oh so flirtatious,
now has to find a new man to tease. Rossi, oh he is so serious, but I like him.
Do you know Gideon wanted out, they killed him in Season Ten, that was sad.
So you see, I know them all, I solve crimes with them, I am hooked for sure.

July 14, 2016


Written for the contest, Your Favorite Habit-Forming TV Show
sponsor, Tom Quigley

Fifth Place

Copyright © Broken Wings | Year Posted 2016

Details | Shape |


This Casuistry is a paradox Fallacious feelings repress A Sophistry you ingress Chemically redox Tergiversate under scrutiny. A misfit – an anachronism. Elusory emotions to express My argument a confused paralogism Chicanery Fugacious Piety worships AWAITING THE FALL An elaborate machination Formation of this Cabal To unravel this conspiracy Renegade inspiration A Live Grenade Revolution call. Societal crumblings A mind poisoned by barricades Limitations. Cures itself By questioning everything Invalidity, obscurity, corruption Topple under Plots of our Coterie Political pressure Militant insurgency Worship the gun Worship the steel Guerilla tactics Metro Urban Rurally Camouflaged pawns Stratagem Pieces on the board are people Playing for real. Didactic Leaders And Pedantic parents They’re history and experience In perspective reveals. Cycle of manipulative Elite, controlling The pariahs Starved in appeal.

Copyright © Joel Thornton | Year Posted 2014

Details | Epic |


Quick bold drums start out loud 
Pounding out the terms of war 
Race through the frantic jungle thick
Rhythms of pursuit take to the beat

Let the chase begin with heart in mouth
Track down the sun burnt frantic man
Stripped naked by his captives
They pushed him into foliage of the doomed 
Now running through entanglements
Strangled in the vines for ancient crimes
Hate has no boundaries when not of the clan
Primal blood can not be satiated

Carbon men shoot long arrows, cannon fire from the camp
Small dark people with evil minds advance
Send the prey into unkind environments

To grounds and undergrowth with shouts
Demise looms on horizons mist for him
Already tortured from the womb
On pounding feet he bleeds while pressing through
In strange surroundings with open wounds                                       
Shots ring out after the enemy make the naked prey
Lay eyes on him in day light with pure hate
Follow every footfall falling on the ground

The ugly trees take a couple of hits
Splinters fly out, shatter living wood, as their demise is sure

Old riffles and loaded guns come with the hunters
Limited only by so many bullets screaming through the trees
To kill their prey, to bring the head back intact
Numbers don't lie.  Momentum is on their side

Why the man has gone missing is a mystery
A cause for strain with sweat and grimace
Small men with evil minds intent become confused

Bugs gather around the fugitive
Make configurations for a meal
Moving keeps him from them and their appetite

He runs in heat with fear and heavy lungs
Filled with humidity he breaths no peace

Keeping quiet requires concentration
The wind must cease to speak for silence
Hiding is a science

Snakes want more than the mosquito
No time to turn about or study wings or feet-less creatures
Insects survive by flying from disaster
He follows them into the swamp
Lives under water for awhile
A long hollow reed for breathing
Comfortable for a time with larva breeding
Tickling his frail and fragile body
There is nothing wrong with wanting to survive
Life, like bullets, fly by


Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme |


Try me, fool, and the semi gon' bang
I'm a big dog, I gotta' let my nuts hang
If I go to jail, best believe I'm bonding out
I always handle beef, that's what I'm all about
I'm not a punk, somebody lied--
I'm bustin' shots, let's get that fixed

I keep it 100, like whole-numbers, no fraction

You're a toy, all looks but no action

So much beef, I can open up a diner

Catch me underground, call me a miner

I keep it real, you haters is processed

To the streets I'm a god, bow down, get blessed

I got rank, like a zebra, I got stripes

Diggin' in ya' chest, you know pressure bust pipes

Got heat, I'm like an Arab with no turban

Shots burn your chest, like drinking Burbon

I cock my tool as they approach, get ready

Make sure you're on point, and hold it steady

When they get near, that trigger get a pull

Give straight head shots, it's an unspoken rule

Shots rang out, like the bells of Notre-Dame

I was long gone, before the law even came

Copyright © Arcene Janvier | Year Posted 2013

Details | Questionku |

Egg Opener

       Egg Opener - Questionku

Delicate shells
Chickens lay their young
Who used the sledge hammer

Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2015

Details | Villanelle |

Villanelle: The Dilemma of the Non-Violent - 55

Villanelle: The Dilemma of the Non-Violent – 55

What the human mind can conceive calculate
See beyond sight recall aeons lost in time
Yet we believe grandma tales spun inebriate

How the human brain can even brains create
Short-circuit evolution collapsing time
What the human mind can conceive calculate

Pack thunder and lightning in capsules of hate
Harness hidden quark energies for a rhyme
Yet we believe grandma tales spun inebriate

Earth’s environs run in quantum leaps of late
Take pulsar quasar pulse long dead in lost clime
What the human mind can conceive calculate

Sound the molten hard heart of globe inchoate
Find untrodden paths along arcs of space-time
Yet we believe grandma tales spun inebriate

Let some men through cunning minds subjugate
For country conscience caprice incite to crime
What the human mind can conceive calculate
Yet we believe grandma tales spun inebriate

© T. Wignesan – Paris,  2015 

Copyright © T Wignesan | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme |

A Beast

A beast with dark red eyes,
to give out fire burning lies,
a beast with such a hunting nose,
terrible stench where ever it goes.

A beast with teeth like jagged knives,
its mouth of saws taking lives,
a beast with horns like powerful steel,
when there is pain, it will not feel.

A beast with sharp and bloody claws,
its body of scales against all laws,
a beast with a swinging tail of spikes,
to stab through anything it likes.

A beast with wings to slice through air,
to fly and kill without a care,
a beast with death in its mind and heart,
from somewhere far and worlds apart.

Copyright © Caitlin Rimmer | Year Posted 2013

Details | Couplet |

Another Crisis

Copyright © 2014 

Mankind rolling dices 
  causing another crisis. 

From police shootings 
  to hoodlums looting. 

Every month a new crisis 
  and we still have ISIS. 

Did Revelations truly see 
  a certain crisis before WW3? 

Mankind rolling dices 
  causing another crisis. 

Melt down those weapons of Mutually Assured Destruction 
  or thermonuclear war will be the ultimate extermination. 

Yes, the World is now MAD 
  and we'll miss what we had. 

Or, will it be you, or you 
  who reduced us to a few? 

by: lp/3:11pm

Copyright © Les Pruitt | Year Posted 2014

Details | Ballad |


I can hear them coming,
Just down the hall,
Just down the corridor,
I see their shadows on the wall.

Closer, closer, closer they come,
What do I do!
If they catch me,
They'll have a new thing to chew.

Even closer they shamble,
Withered hands outstretched,
Their mouths open...moaning,
Their decaying bodies wretched.

There is no way out of this school,
My fate I'll meet very soon,
This school...is my crypt,
And this hallway...is my tomb.

Copyright © Christian Ball | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme |


I remember the past with fondness
Living carefree once was great
Being a spy is never easy when in bondage
One must know when faced with no escape

Poison, sodium pentothal help memory out
Fire burns.  Acid works better to that end 
I left my mind at home beside the bed no doubt
Days of youth with butterflies cry out in pain

Once upon a time there was a code worth knowing
If only I could remember it to tell these thugs
Next time I will remember it to keep on living
These men are not here to make love

Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2015

Details | Verse |

The Woman in Lace

Leather covered hands 
And a masked face
Onto the surface he lands 
In his sight, a woman in lace

His intentions quite disturbing 
To rip her limb from limb
To the side lamp she does cling 
With a flicker the light became dim 

As a red fluid gushes to the floor
From a stab wound it does fall
Her screams right from her core
As he carried her through the hall

The man hadn't muttered one word
Looked as though his lips were bound 
The thought of escape was absurd 
The woman in lace was never to be found

Copyright © Elain Mangelsdorf | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |



Gangsters angling for a deal on wet concrete by the station
Feared for life, but more for death, on the street
Souls purchased with wrong turns

Their associate last week lost his way in the park
An angel pulled up, found him, fed him a line, then a shot
Just for a second his eminence smiled, then died

A red car drove off with the pretty little assassin inside
After taking a kingpin out, removing the competition in a flash                         
Taking comfort in what a young girl can do when put to task

Now the concrete walk waits for its prey
Directed by others in a sequence of events about to play out
Events initiating a consequence of revenge unfolds

To exact equal pain in retribution for the loss of their boss
The gang had followed him for years and continues to do so 
Into an early grave, by seeking out the girl unwisely

From the shadow, an angel came again.  This time for them
With a killer’s lust for blood and blessings from above
Stray projectiles fly from all sides, initiated by the parties involved

The spree begins to shape the end of days, taken in an angry rage
Trajectory of chaotic gun fire directed at the gang
Took participants engaged down, one by one, until there were none

These stoic men feel mortality and reality effects
Only at the end of a gun at the point of death as wasted flesh
Saying her name with their expiring breath….. Angel

Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2014

Details | Verse |


i like to dress for an imaginary girl
(we will meet each other soon)   by putting on
a silk tie with subtle Chinese birds
sewn in.
she may be picturing me in her mirror
as she applies exactly the necessary line
of mascara to lengthen her lashes and darken
her eyes.
whatever begins as a mystery ends as a
blind, the nuances so well known
that birds chirp violently at their mirror images
but the pools
as they are revealed in the sunlight of
every accidental nod of the eyes remain
calm as a mirror in which there is no
image ever seen.

Copyright © Robert Ronnow | Year Posted 2015

Details | Bio |

To Commit To The Actual

unidentified never to be found
mysterious trace evidence
unsourced so not a soul will see  
to view a preferably maintained crime
is harder than it seems 
hired gun dressed up 
in workers dress 
seems to all ways 
to look the best 
take your time 
no one will see 
your real job 
is to quietly end me... 
 cardboard dust that sticks to walls 
makes the best carcinoma pneumonia
for all
 so many particular tricks and so little time to share them all  
no neutrality, makes for a bad Nation
for some but not all 

Copyright © verlecia fields | Year Posted 2017

Details | Lyric |


dead ends and crop circles
split ends and dark circles
everyone thinks i'm a mirror
i'm not the mirror, you are

lock me in your basement
i've got a strange, sick craving
in the painting, the heads are above me
but it's my blood they're using, you see

i remember being the one who killed the buzz
you remember me, the one you'd never thought could kill cuz

i used to have feelings but now i'm on medication
i don't need p*rn, cuz i have my imagination
rippin ur hair out at the thought of me not being what u think babe
i clash with ur c*m cuz i ain't sweeeet

i always carry these knives babe
you could kill me and i'd still live
ur a dog barkin up the wrong tree
ur a wolf howlin at the wrong moon

i remember being the one who killed the buzz
you remember me, the one you'd never thought could kill cuz

i used to have feelings but now i'm on medication
i don't need p*rn, cuz i have my imagination
rippin ur hair out at the thought of me not being what u think babe
i clash with ur c*m cuz i aint sweeeet

i've got chains wrapped around my thoughts
you've got a different set, around your doubts
like a flower that eats the flies
put your finger down my throat and see the truth arise
cuz i'm just acid in a body

Copyright © Ashlea Senft | Year Posted 2017

Details | Rhyme |

What Happens In Vegas

Just another Sunday on the Sunset Strip
Where a country concert had taken a grip
People had flocked from all around
To listen to their favourite sound
Josh and his buddies were up on stage
Their twangling guitars did the audience engage
Many in the crowd were singing along
With every plaintive and pert song
No happier scene in any mind's eye
Would,later recalled,fetch a contented sigh
This was the show they had saved to attend
This was sadly where for many it would all end.

High overhead in his hotel room
A tortured mind had prepared  their doom
His road trip to Mandalay
Was filled with intent to slay
A plan that had long festered in his brain
To contemplate inflicting untold pain
All around him lay guns and ammo
Ready to put an end  to this happy show
He coldly and cruelly bided his time
Before choosing the moment  to commit his crime
Once he had them in his sights
Then began their panic stricken plight.

His staccato typewriter spelled out fear,pain and death
In vain many scattered,stood stock still and held their breath
Down they went,falling under his relentless fire
Stunned,shaken and shot in their country attire
Glee must have been dancing in his twisted head
At seeing so many of his targets lying dead.

What was it  that flipped this quiet man's  switch within
To trigger the  damnable  flaw of original sin?
Did Stephen Paddock yearn to go out in a blaze of glory?
Was it that which fuelled this so tragic story?
Before  he turned his weapon against his own life,
Did he then  regret causing such avoidable strife?

Sibylline in their veracity
Were the words of the prophecy
That the crowd would perish that very night
Before the speaker was hustled out of sight
If a shiver went through those who heard
They dismissed her as being just weird
Predictably ignoring her rambling warning 
The report echoed in the headlines next morning

Copyright © denis bruce | Year Posted 2017