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Evil Daughter Poems | Evil Poems About Daughter

These Evil Daughter poems are examples of Evil poems about Daughter. These are the best examples of Evil Daughter poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Lyric |

I Hate You Cancer

Dedicated to my Dad who lost his short battle w/ Colon Cancer on June 18,2013

I hate you Cancer
Your vile evil and cruel
You don't care who you hurt
I'll never forget that day
I'll always hate you for it

Your heartless Cancer
You took someone important from me
Someone important from others too
Took people who didn't belong to you
I hate you for it

You disgust me Cancer
You had no right to take him from me
He mattered more than my very own life
I hate you for taking my Daddy
I hate you for taking others too

I hate you with a passion Cancer
You took part of my heart with him
You took part of my soul that day too
I hate you for it
I hate you I hate you I hate you

I hate you with every fiber of my being 
Go back to Hell where you belong
I hate you, others hate you
Your not welcome or wanted here Cancer

I hate you more than his doctor's
I hate you more than God
I hope I get to witness that day
Witness the day you fall
And you will fall Cancer

You're gonna lose the battle one day Cancer
I'm gonna laugh and dance around your grave
You'll finally get what you deserve 
And you'll never be able to inflict your disease on another soul

Sabrina Niday Hansel

Placed 8th in Poet Destroyer A's  2013 "PINKTOBER" Contest

Please Support a Cure for Colon Cancer & every other type!

Copyright © Sabrina Niday Hansel | Year Posted 2013

Details | Munaajaat |

Tell Me

I'm lost hurt and angry
Why did you take his life
I want, No I need to know
Tell me, Tell me why
I deserve to know

Haven't you done enough to him
What'd he ever do to you
He suffered his whole life
Suffered more than anyone deserved
Tell me, Tell me why you did it
I have a right to know

Why'd you let him born to them
Born to worthless parents
Parents who didn't care
They threw him away like garbage
Pawned him off on someone else
Tell me, Tell me why
Explain how you could do that

You gave him Polio
You let others treat him like disease
You took away the full use of his legs
You warped his hand and foot
Tell me, Explain to me why
I deserve to know

You let others think he was crazy
You let it go on for over year
You didn't stop it, Why
Tell me, Give me your reason
Answer me God, Help me to understand

You go and make matters worse
You gave him Cancer
You didn't give him a chance to fight back
You just jerked him away from us
Tell me, Tell me how
How you could be so cruel

How can others not question you
When others do it, It's murder
But when it's by your hand
It's your will, Their fate
Tell me, What makes you so different
Your no better than the demons knocking at the door

You heard me beg and plead
You know I'm not afraid to die
I was willing to carry it all for him
I was willing to take my Daddy's place
You didn't even let me say Goodbye
Tell me, Tell me why I couldn't take his place
Answer me God, you owe me that much


Copyright © Sabrina Niday Hansel | Year Posted 2013

Details | Didactic |

The Moral Point of Cinderella

Cinderella was disliked by her family, 
Her step-mother and her sisters;
Whilst she was kind and generous, 
They were evil and boisterous. 

All her family had a weight problem, 
But she was sim and elegant, 
Amorous and thoughtful, 
Coy, clever and somewhat bashful. 

But she hated everyday living, 
As she was just a housemaid and  a cook, 
So she most definitely wanted to attend the ball, 
Where the prince could at her look. 

But her step-mum said no, 
And both her sisters did gloat,  
So she knew she must escape, 
From her sinking boat. 

If your sociology is bad, 
You can believe in whoever for you so cares, 
And her role-model was her fairy godmother, 
Who in her did hope and for her had dares. 

She made it such that Cinders could, 
Attend the ball looking good, 
By transforming what they had themselves, 
Into a ball-gown and carriage with hood. 

The prince instantly fell in love, 
With Cinderella and her way, 
But she rushed off only leaving him her shoe, 
To follow up on her foreplay. 

Love comes above all else, 
When things are grim and rough, 
And you must determinedly secure, 
Those hope-beads that are made of good stuff. 

When you just can't find morality in your life,
The monarch’s voice stands for you,
And the King said that his son,
Should search for his love in the many and the few.

So he searched for her in every house, 
Finding her in a cold, locked room, 
And she insisted on trying on his treasured shoe,
Taking opportunity which banished all her gloom. 

You need to take opportunity with both hands, 
By its horns, steadfast and sure, 
And even make things happen when no light shines, 
So that you beckon and you lure. 

The prince forced a physical trial, 
Of the shoe on each ones foot, 
‘Cos love is physical, not just social, 
And is not just psychology’s reboot. 

Ok, Cinder’s godmother was a magic one,  
Not real to her step-mum or sisters, 
But when you’re suppressed and called inferior, 
Your thoughts are valid for your interior. 

Your actions are right, 
And morality is with you, 
Not those with money or riches, 
Whose selfish deeds do not do. 

Being born to abusive parents, 
Being born different, poor or destitute, 
Doesn't mean you must be such forever, 
Just that you need to be most resolute. 

So Prince Charming whisked her off, 
Right out of her house and her life, 
And that should be for all of us, 
Where hurt and hardship are rife. 

Copyright © Rhoda Monihan | Year Posted 2015

Details | Dramatic Verse |

My Dad

My Dad was Chicagoan.
He would light up a room just like my Mom. 
He loved to fish ! He loved his beer .
He also designed a Octagon home in the 70's 
Built custom by hand . I was very proud of Dad .

Alcohol hit our Family , a curse .
He left my Mom when I was 14 in Illinois.
To renew in California , leaving a trail of tears .
Meeting my step mom , my sisters age .
My 2 sisters they were accepted in her world . 

Not I , I looked too much Like Mom . Told this all my Life . 
She a petite Beauty , RN , real estate Broker .
I did not see why it was wrong to be like mom ?

I moved in with Dad, His new Wife , and 2 sisters 
eventually . All three women were competing for my Father .
I was kicked out at 16 yrs.

Years do pass , you try and accept people places and things .
At the end of Dads life , he was calling me once a week .
I ordered a Engraved Clock for the Fathers day coming.
This was a issue for the Wife and sisters , never invited to his new home , 2 Decades ~My little Brother & I , never wanted .

Dad passed suddenly one sad Spring Day . Not one word from his wife , all 3rd party,  how and when,  Dad Died . being denied the right to his address , even to say goodbye .
Not being able to send my engraved clock . 

 "Dad Passed " received call  from sister whom just stayed a week with me ,  I took her all around the sites here . "1st day I get call , you should come , 2nd Day after , Dad's been cremated already . " It was a lie.

I went anyway , finding the funeral home, the Funeral Director was appalled at the denial displayed.

He insisted I was given 10 minutes alone with Dad , my Birthright to say Goodbye , he was in dismay over the Hostility towards a daughter ~

I get to this room of mean relative's. His sisters , Mine, angry looks , hearing from a Aunt "What is she doing Here ! " I can't give nor reason or rhyme. 

 Shame to you and all that participated that wicked day.
 Are you Glorified with Power?  Denied the right to grieve , 

 Left with no sane answers to give in hatred received by Blood . Some , just Spouses , telling me I had no right to Say Goodbye to my own Father , My DAD .

My Dad wanted me there , I know he did . I love Him and will never forget , his youngest girl whom looked like Mom . I know in my heart and dreams he speaks. 
 We all see when we leave . May God not allow any Son or Daughter to go through such Evil.

Thank-you Poetry Soup for returning my voice .

Copyright © Shanity Rain | Year Posted 2013

Details | Dramatic monologue |

Southern Love Southern hate

Southern love,  Southern hate 
they are the opposite of each other 
 I have  memories of both in the State I love dearly.

Going back to a old plantation home in the South ,
as a child I played in the many Pecan trees , collecting baskets upon baskets of fresh pecans .

the smell of fresh pies , of pecan and rhubarb , oh my Mom took the prize .

One afternoon , School was out , it was in summer  , reminisce of fresh lemonade 
My Mother called my name 'child come in here now " in the middle of the day ' 
she many times called and I would hide in this paradise full of honeysuckle and pecans .

This time the tone was one of fear , and alert , "come inside Now"
 I ran to the top of the old plantation stairs to my Mother .
I saw in the distance what seemed to be a parade in the day .

This time the parade was of people in "white sheets ' going door to door,
just like salesman they would knock , they would greet .
my Mother said " We have no time for this here " leave now , and leave fast. yours is only teachings of Discriminate .

she sent them quickly away , giving back the paper , the invite 
These people dressed in funny white  sheets .  
only later I discovered what this was about 
Your Parents do their very best , to keep any Evil out .

These people are not just from the South , they are all over the World 
Leaving me that day with no doubt . Make the choice you have , we all do
Remember Gods Children are innocent , and many a color , they could be Blue ~

Copyright © Shanity Rain | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |

Troll Song

We are the tintinnabulating trolls
To the rock rock bottom of our nonexistent souls.
Madder than the maddest hatter,
Hear us bellow, bray, and bleat;
And we prattle pitter-patter
In our jabberwocky chatter
To a bumbulating beat.
See us zim zam zoom
As we're going bim bam boom
In an onomatopoeia that so rhythmically rolls.
We're the trolls trolls trolls trolls trolls trolls trolls.
We're the truly tintinnabulating trolls.

We are the tintinnabulating trolls
With our xenophobic hearts lit like black burning coals.
Hate and anger are our teachers
So we squabble, squeal, and squirm.
We are misbegotten creatures—
With the ugliest of features—
Lower than the lowest worm.
In these premises
We're unrivaled nemeses;
And we burrow furrow mindless like some misanthropic moles.
We're the trolls trolls trolls trolls trolls trolls trolls.
We're the truly tintinnabulating trolls.

We are the tintinnabulating trolls
From compassion and goodness we're at opposite poles—
So devoid of any scruples.
On stupidity we feed.
As our villainy quadruples
We're the most attentive pupils
To insatiable greed.
See us bash bing bang.
Hear us clatter clash cling clang
As we crash upon the shallows of malevolented shoals.
We're the trolls trolls trolls trolls trolls trolls trolls.
We're the truly tintinnabulating trolls.

We're the trolls trolls trolls,
The incorrigible trolls.
We're the trolls trolls trolls.
We're the horrigible trolls.
We're the irritating, aggravating, fascinating trolls.
We're the wrangulating, jangulating, strangulating trolls.
We're the trolls trolls trolls trolls trolls trolls trolls.
We're the truly tintinnabulating trolls.

– Harley White  

< 1987 >

[From my version of “East of the Sun and West of the Moon”]

Copyright © Harley White | Year Posted 2014

Details | Elegy |

Rondelet: Yang be evil

Rondelet: Yang be evil

  for the continuously raped and hidden
     minors of India

Yang be evil
Yin acts with rash impunity 
Yang be evil
No power controls the Devil
Wombs despoiled in mad enmity
Innocence: raped humanity
Yang be evil

(c) T. Wignesan - Paris, 2012

Copyright © T Wignesan | Year Posted 2012

Details | Rhyme |

America Is Being DESTROYED From Within


As sin and perversion often become integrated… So many lives and families are being “disintegrated.” Many are being driven by sin’s temptation force… It’s no wonder much of this country is way “off course.” The morality and values that once made a great nation. Are evaporating…. Leading to a “spiritual separation.” Love, honor, and respect of God… Is often a “thing of the past.” Anything of God seems to be disappearing FAST! God is our only hope! And him alone! Only he can bring healing to our broken homes! He’s the answer to this wounded nation, that bleeds! It’s only God that can meet all of our needs! He’s our provider… The great: “I am!” Won’t you reach out to him? And give him your hand? Why not give him a chance? And allow him in? A brand new life for you… Is waiting to begin! May we allow God’s holiness and love to reach down into our hearts… Asking; “Lord please forgive our sins!” Is a good place to start! By Jim Pemberton

Copyright © Jim Pemberton | Year Posted 2013

Details | Haibun |

A Daughter's Protector

quick! grab the soft rose
your hand now aching, bloodied
thorns unconsidered

life's dream isn't always what it suddenly seems in ice cream's melted hope
not when a yearning man is twisted; turning, churning curdles sweet milk sour
carnal captivity, the new little girl's horror, where slavery spreads her legs
life's little trick, survivals mindless instinct, plays it's vicious, ace in the heart card

a zygote's military resolve
an embryo doesn't consider

precious life somehow swims forth in a plastic, kiddie plunge
the wet nurse has no degree, but life hangs, by an umbilical balance

dreams are reality thwarted by circumstance

time bides, love does not divide, it grows feral strong with fowl gazes ever watching
forced sharing, twisted family time, memories remain, an anchor in deepest abyss
forward, for a daughter's faint, possible, distant. infinitely small, maybe someday
light, a pinprick, blind chance, endured, survived, conquered with love alone, hero

Amanda Berry:
"You've been looking for me;
Hurry, I'm free now!"

Copyright © Michael Cahill | Year Posted 2014

Details | Couplet |

Devil's Spell

there are many women who's life has been a tragedy.
we all know that is not the way it ought to be.

tragedies, unfortunately, are equal opportunity employers.
they strike all, no matter what race, creed or color.

think of the woman who are denied their basic rights.
they do what they are told and are instructed to neither fuss nor fight.

they have been taught through experience that they have no value.
so through life they go lacking self esteem & confidence, 
with no dreams to pursue.

yet these are the strong women who have endured life.
life... ha! 
countless, endless nights of sexual assault and she wasn't the wife.

if she were the mistress it would have been her choice to make;
but she wasn't, she was too young and for daddy's sake.

she endured the pain of being defiled....
threatened, young, afraid, her confusion was compiled.

daddies weren't suppose to do this ......
not to a child.
to mommy she went hoping she would be saved, after a while.

but mommy wasn't sure of the why's and how's.
how do you stay with a man who is a sow ?
how do you raise a family when you don't know?

is the child telling the truth or is she lying?
no ...  it isn't a lie because you feel like dying.

so the daughter grows from child to woman.
carrying with her this tragedy that will always remain.

she has confronted, accepted and knows she isn't to blame.
she has grown to be confident, successful and quite sane.

forgiving is what she has learned to live by.
she had to deal with the pain and her mother the why.

as for the both they will mend;
but for the other he will surely spend.
the rest of his life in an eternal hell,
for he was under the devils spell.

Copyright © Jacqueline Newton-Kowalsky | Year Posted 2014

Details | Alliteration |

Speak No Evil Ten Word Challenge

Exuberant emotions abound as I pack siutcases...
Suddenly, the sonorous of my phone and doorbell sings.
Posh police stand outside with opulent badges. 
Father? Suicide? I disengage into a desultory demise.
Tears truck down my cracked city cheeks.
Halcyon hallucinations haunt my deplorable grief.
Some cloaked in cynical attitude give me no sympathy. 
My creeping crepuscular shadows lust to become dust.
I'm jealous of moon, for I feel in a penumbra prison.
Stalemate soul with visceral venom I cry for Father!

January 31st 2016

Copyright © Chantelle Anne Cooke | Year Posted 2016

Details | Lay |

Booming Night

Bang! Bang!
A roaring sound erupted from downstairs awakening my sister and I, 
Silence over filled the house.
My sister and I laid in our bed immobile, 
I listened to her soft quivering breaths as the tranquility took over the world
But then . . . 
Mama screams.
Bang! Bang!
There it went again, 
Now is was silent.
My older sister Susan carried me in her arms and hid me under the bed,
“I’ll be right back,
I’m gonna see what mommy and daddy are up to, don’t come out until I return, You understand me Sophie?” Susan whispered.
I nodded my head yes and she tiptoed out of the door . . . Leaving it cracked open.
Once again it was silent,
I listened to the wind whistling outside my bedroom window,
It was soothing,
It was aesthetic,
My eyes began to slowly drift off,
But then . . . 
Susan screamed which made me jump out of my dreamland.
Bang! Bang!
Once again it was silent,
But this time . . . 
I was on my own. 
“Susan?” I whisperedly called out.
No answer . . . 
“Susan?!” I called out again.
Still no answer
Tears flooded my eyes as more silence filled the room.
I was afraid . . . 
But I knew I had to be strong for Susan.
So I waited . . . 
and waited . . . 
And waited . . .
I waited for so long that I began to lose track of time.
I hear a noise outside my window . . . 
A different noise?
From the corner of my eye I see blue and red lights flashing outside.
 That’s when I knew it was time to be brave,
I got out from underneath the bed and held on tightly on my stuffed teddy bear. 
I tiptoed out of my room and down the stairs,
Moments later my feet hit the cold kitchen floor,
I could barely see anything . . . Except for the flashing blue and red lights outside my front door.
I picked my feet up and slowly began to make my way towards the door, 
Splash! Splash!
I stepped in something wet,
But it felt different . . .
Something sticky . . . 
Something slippery . . .
But dries within seconds.
I hear a faint laugh come from behind me.
I stood there in the puddle of dark liquid not moving a single muscle.
The sadistic laugh appeared louder this time,
I felt someone’s warm, but mephitic  fear consumed me,
I could fell the presence
inching closer . . .
And closer . . . 
And closer . . .
Until I could fell their lips brush against my ear.
I didn't dare to turn around . . . 
But I knew it was a man.
He shushed me and whispered something in my ear . . . 
Something that I’ll never forget . . . 
“Bang, Bang”

Copyright © Annebelle Birch | Year Posted 2014

Details | Narrative |


Somewhere in Africa, the cries of a woman
Bearing immense cutting pain
Wishing life not as cruel as it is 
And forgetting the excitement
That came with knowing her man.
Alas, it falls.
Almost like a creature, 
So bloody yet so fragile
Tiny fingers, tiny legs, tiny arms; 
Whatever shall I call her
“Naa awula” indeed, 
She will be my lady; my only lady 
Spread the word my dear sisters, 
For today a new member has joined us
Seven days, seven days it will be.
 And the world will say her name
Pray we must; 
My little lady ought to dwell amongst us
Let no evil eye beseech her
Let no evil mouth revile her
Let no evil hands stroke her
For seven days it will be
 Just seven days.
Hail to the sun, for we present Naa Awula
Truth she must know and truth she will speak
Her feet shall flee from the wicked 
Lest she be bewitched.
Make merry, for she comes to stay.
Come round and present your gifts and blessings.
She will grow into a very beautiful maiden
She will know no pain
 But happiness
May she continue in the league of child birth.
Lest her face be drenched
 In the mud of mockery.
Lighten your hearts and grease your faces
Herein rises An African Woman.

Copyright © Victoria Nunoo | Year Posted 2012

Details | ABC |

The Devils Daughter

I am the devils daughter born from a bad seed
If you cross me in any way Ill make you pay indeed,

I am very colorful but, watch your back
I love to wear dark clothes especially black,

I think of myself as a different breed
I suppose I am right because I will make you bleed,

I love power yes I do the more I get the more I will dominate you
Don't try to fight it because there is nothing you can do,

Walk in front of me and I won't follow
So walk behind me and I will lead you to a hallow,

It will dark where you can't see
Don't try to get more than what you need,

I love to play at the devils play ground
Because in my world he is world renound.

Written By: Unique Poetry 2013....just a poem about the dark side...

Copyright © Michelle Born | Year Posted 2015

Details | I do not know? |

ominous dark

I was standing in my precipice of loneliness
A look at the bottom 
My soul was shaking totally
Risk of falling
The risk of death
Risk of lack
I was confused
I was filled with conflicting emotions
But your picture at the  Beach Waves said angrily:don't afraid...do not be timid...be brave..i am yours.
I was doubtful
But something in my heart threw me down.a ominous dark thing.			
I've crashed(fallen) a long time and went down deeply to the sea...while i've seen you On the precipice laughing me and me in the sea crying with your picture in the waves...
and a ominous dark thing...you hairs...your pupil threw me down...you killed me...Cruel!
You killed me.
And i was crushed in the Controversy of the waves and  the rocks.
I was broken in myself

Copyright © saman ranjba | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse |

Gods and Demons From Our Lives

Gods brought me here to you innocent and pure

I fell out of the clouds for your love I felt I could endure

Even with a demons eye, loneliness isn't the cure

I felt as I could go on with your love changing with every turn

Escaping each time that I cried out for your love the demons made it burn

And God brought me someone with whom brought the crash of our love up to the curb

Well I am back out on the street with tears in my eyes

Left on both feet but the demons have said their goodbyes

With blood curdling screams and dirt filled sighs

I can't go on being discrete with love filled skies

With every new person that I meet I have to decide

If it all was worth the fight I don't want to go on with out you

Here or there in my life, so I am back in the street

All filled with love forgiven was last week honey

Today it's star kissed lives, the Demons we meet

Drifting on wardly lost in life

Copyright © Courtney Courtney | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |


I see you 
stand around
looking confused
being useless

you might come 
my way
maybe I say
, but you don't
and just walk away

I then see you
stopped dead in track 
you pull out your phone 
to give me a text

try to get away
you  say through
your letters
I reply okay
because I know I better.

Copyright © jessie conner | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse |

Said the New Jersey Bomber A Terrorist

Said the terrorist,
Terrorized and
radicalized by what the mind dictates.
Spreads it’s evil into the eyes,
stares into arrogance
justifies presumptuous actions 
and forces you to comply. 

Did I not think?
Once done,
irreversible these actions?
But no,
this rude bravado
assumes it carries the weight of God.
Who am I to dictate such ignorance?
They do on to me and so I do unto them?
For whom?
Did God ask you to take revenge?
No that is of your choice.
I chose my actions.
The devil speaks into both ears,
into your eyes,
into your visions,
into your hands,
into everything you do.
You become the devil’s advisory,
a chilling killer.
Think again!
God is not on your side!

Why do we do what we do?
our infectious mind
spreads through the eyes,
motivate our visions 
till we comply.
© Al. Juman  The "said" Poet  7/7/2016

Copyright © Al Juman | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme |


I sit enveloped in a fog
That never breaks but for the rain
Of salty tears and oozing blood
I've loosed from yet another vein.

While all around me lovers kiss
And mothers give their babes a change
New love, new clothes, each a fresh start
I see as sickeningly strange.

I crave the putrid and the shunned
The dusty corners webbed and dark
A bottom dweller, fetid form
Cast out from every patriarch.

I am not fit to walk this earth
Indwell this body I sear in
I am ruined, unfit, unclean
My bulging middle screams my sin.

If I had the strength to end it,
But Evil bids me to stay on
And face the shame I cannot speak
Birthing my brother and my son.

For contest: Five rhyming stanzas and five only

Rhyme scheme:

Copyright © Cindi Rockwell | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |

Your Little Daughter

You crucified my soul within,
With those sharp words you spoke.
You've taken away my life you gave,
Before my life was complete.

You chained me to this madness,
Of sick disoriented photos of pain.
And then you decided to toss me aside,
So this Hell bound evil could intoxicate my brain.

And under your swords of menace,
You punished my feeble heart.
And trashed me away into binges of hate,
So those demons inside could tear me apart.

And mutilated images of Hell,
Has fallen beyond my lost tormented soul.
And the evil seeds you planted inside,
Are blossoms of suicide that;ll always grow.

Why did you ruin such a pretty picture,
and taken away the only life I had?
I tried to be your perfect little daughter,
When you all were never, the perfect Mom and Dad!!!

Copyright © Tina Menser | Year Posted 2010

Details | Rhyme |

secret letter to you mother


I don't know why I bother to try

even though I know, you'll never be satisfied.

I'm not what you want, and I'm not what you need.

but you're twisting and turning my reality.

I'm lost in the shuffle,

buried with my troubles.

you're killing my emotions, and  losing my trust.

and you look at me with a sense of disgust
this is my world, and  you are my fear.

I think things would be better, without you near.

I'm losing myself and cowering down to you.

you're words they are permanent to me, just like a tattoo.

you're always right behind me, pushing me way to far.

cut me open, see the pattern of my scars.

all these people that think they're so tough.

try being reminded that you're never good enough.

you're killing me slowly, and I'm almost dead.

I imagine you smile as you drift off to bed.

this isn't right, this isn't fair.

it's nothing, I don't expect you to care.

I'll paint this world, with my list of regrets.

I'll burn this city with my ashes and I'll forget

that you weren't fair.

 and maybe I'll be saved from this horrid despair.

I know who's right and I know who's wrong.

but you'll figure it out, once I'm finally gone

Copyright © alainey craig | Year Posted 2015

Details | Blank verse |

a painting of oblivion

Painting of Oblivion 

The canvas is uniformly white  
As a screen depicts nothingness 
And there is immobility.
Occasionally a red dot appears
when a mass of void is moved
Into life in the form of a life
A beast or a man? 
The mystery is no one knows
Why this randomness occurs 

Copyright © jan oskar hansen | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme |


Long ago in a small village lived an Innocent good and true and demure
She denied an unwanted suitor making advances she could not endure
Rejected, the enraged suitor swore revenge relishing his role as Accuser
He rumored:  “She’s a witch” and persuaded other villagers to condemn her
The day for the burning of the Innocent falsely condemned as a Witch
Drew a restless village crowd whose mood reached a fevered pitch
The edgy villagers await Accuser’s nod to finally set the fire
While a mournful dirge is tolled from the town’s sole church spire
The faggots collected are piled high to prolong the anticipated ordeal
The Innocent has no hope there will be any last minute repeal
Behind the edge of the forest the Innocent’s daughter (The Witch) stands
Preparing to overpower the Accuser’s Evil Deed so close at hand
The Witch’s Power forcefully ignites, often sizzling, sometimes bitterly cold 
And as sights and sounds mute and fade the Witch’s commands are told:

“I order that my Mother’s tortured body be caressed by a healing sea breeze
Sprinkling her with misted moisture to protect and give her ease
I command departed Witches to lift my Mother off the deadly pyre
I vow her Accuser will one day expire in a spontaneous-induced fire
All that may frighten or harm my Mother has been commanded to disappear
Her hands are freed of the binding ropes bound so tight that blood did appear
The female form now bound on the stake is naught but an empty shell
I charge that Accuser’s Evil Deed shall in like fashion be his death knell.”

The loving sanctuary of the Witch’s Mother is protected by The Witch’s Rule
Another Rule ends the Evil unleashed by Accuser, a devious sadistic Fool
The Witch commands the villagers to leave and they go but know not why
The Accuser is horrified that his intended revenge has gone completely awry
Accuser’s Deed is defeated; knowing not his deed is ultimately self-corroding
The Accuser swiftly takes his leave overcome with great fear and foreboding.
The Witch will seek justice for her Mother and doubts not it will be attained
For she faithfully obeys The Witch’s Rule so it will be eternally sustained.

The Witch’s Rule sought Chosen Ones who evolved and came to be
Its Ancient Essence soared the Ages reaching Home in its Devotees
Securing an unbroken succession only its Chosen can perform or decree
In each Generation only One Witch is Chosen as The Witch’s Rule ordains 
At the Heart of The Witches Rule is an edict the Text contains
“A Ruling Witch is required to destroy Evil so Justice and Goodness reigns.”

Copyright © Carol Zic | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |



yesterday, she was awake.
yesterday, she could see.
yesterday, she could talk,
yesterday, she could walk,
yesterday, she could run,
yesterday, Child Protective 
Services called to talk to 
her and she cried.
yesterday, Child Protective 
Services came to the house
and she was scared.
yesterday, she had no one but 
yesterday, she sat next to me
while I watched television,
ate with me and we even 
shared a cigarette.
yesterday, Child Protective 
Services called themselves 
off and now she’s calm.

today, she left to meet up 
with her kid’s dad… one of 
them anyway. 
she’s taken a feeling for him 
again and I guess he 
today, she came back, she’s 
blind, she’s got no voice,
she walks away, she runs 
today, Child Protective 
Services is a joke to her.
her tears are gone and she’s 
forgotten fear.

today, she’s gotten her dose 
of attention, her deadliest 
today, she needs no friend 
for television, food or 
Child Protective Services
is a distant memory and now,
she’s got a new friend to play 
today, the chip on her 
shoulder rids her of being 
any type of human at all.

By: Chicano Eddie

Copyright © CHICANO EDDIE | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |


THE WORTH OF A MISER’S DAUGHTER total exposure upon a couch, soiled in gold - a thing to be used, a miser’s daughter. he’d not thought her of any worth. she quivers behind a mask. at first – a blood red moon floated past her window. she cares no more for the blue sky nor clouds nor dress her soul cringes behind the pale moon mask 9/13/2016 Contest 201 (Brian Strand)

Copyright © Kim Rodrigues | Year Posted 2016