Best Arsenic Poems
When knowledge is poison
Bad apples bear fruit
10.26.2019
The Arsenic Sunset
Eden now knows what it meant
When corruption took flesh as a
Serpent—
For all things alien
Narrow to a tendril
A twist of black sap
A rune of bloody syrup against tissue-paper tides
Winking crudely among the starved sluggish currents
Of emerald and sapphire
Like a clay-red foaming artery.
A root seeking an oasis not yet tainted
Among jeweled whitecaps and glassy heat.
Eden now knows what it meant
When the urge to ruin something
Stole form as an apple
That could be devoured into
A constellation of seeds withered on your palm;
For the ruin of anything has a stiff-grained pleasure to it—
Not much separates a grimace and a smile.
The brackish wave
And black-slick shore
Ache—
With want, with memory
For the reign of a firmament not yet singed with sulfur breath
And a sky yet unbound by the rainbow venoms
That richen the arsenic sunset.
The thrum of myriad hearts
Sounds the confusion
And the agonal forward trudge
Of a world unfertile
Bathed in alien minerals, and haunted by
The loss of its oceans’ poetry.
We know it as a poison,here are some things that you may not know
It can drop one dead in their tracks, or it may take a while
A trickster, one of devious deeds, the Devil's tool
It may appear to be something else, when putting on a show
The Mafia has been using it for years, they like it's style
Not something a common man learns in school
If given in the right amount, but not a lethal dose
The dosage prepared by someone with medical experience
Then to a "gopher" to administer the crippling task
In a few days will appear to be stroke, or very close
Leaving the victim helpless, with little or no defense
While arsenic hides behind the mask
Affects the right side of the brain and cripples the left side
Drives the blood pressure through the roof, three hundred plus
Your mind is going a million miles per hour wandering what is taking place
A severe cramp in your left leg, bent at the knee with your foot touching the backside
All you can do is lay there and cuss
You cannot walk, you cannot talk because of a twisted face
A stroke leaves ever lasting damage, arsenic will last for a few days
The blood pressure comes back to normal, but flash backs will haunt you
The doctors in this conspiracy, will doctor you for a stroke
Will tell you that you are not a doctor, i have found out as I have my ways
The people that do not know this, have no proof on what they can do
They will laugh at you, like it is a joke
They sent me a message each time, but I know that they will be back
Claim that they are going to make me pay, or drive me insane
Because those people are never going to be nice
Remain calm and pray, until the next attack
I never run, but now I walk with a cane
As for Mr. Arsenic, I have already met him twice
the orange of the burning house
is the most comforting color i've seen in years
it's better than the red that's been coming out
of my eyes and nose and ears
as a compulsive liar and a pyromaniac
i know a thing or two about hell
oh yeah, i'm doing fine, i've never cracked
and i've never been so well
i'm blowing all my energy
on hypothetical drugs
who needs TV
when you've got a bucket filled with bugs
Over a hundred years ago in the bush of west Queensland
the cure all for everything was,
a mixture of axle grease blue stone and arsenic.
It was known to heal up skin cancer,
sore backs on horses kill swamp cancer on a horses belly ...
.it killed the skin cancer on old lumpy an Aboriginal about 1900 ad..
.bluestone was used to get rid of proud flesh on a horse...
.My great great grandpa Joe White,
when asked was it any good?
He replied it will heal up a dogs ass in 3 days,
and grow hair on it on the 4th ...
arsenic puffed into white ants kills many
and they cannabalise till the last ant goes hungry
thanks for your time...
Don
Arsenic and cyanide, keeps me feeling warm inside
While I am melting away, please don't hate me for i can not stay
I cannot be there to keep by your side
Memory's of them and loss of their thoughts
I am doing as I was taught
The only thing I'm good at is simply giving up
Now I roll on the floor, on the table sits my empty cup
Taste so good with sugar inside
Keeps me from remembering
And falsely hoping
Taking me to a safer place
Thank you, arsenic and cyanide
Cyanide Footsteps, Arsenic Touch
Everything about you is toxic. Your lethal kiss at dawn ending my life in a moment. Your breath stagnant when you stand in my personal space.
Suffocation.
The rasping assault on my eardrums when you shout at me, imploding my head. What of your arsenic touch, killing me by ruining my very cells?
Unstoppable assaults on innocent me. What did I do to you? Tell me lady of the night? I paid for sex. You won't list the Sexually Transmitted Diseases I got off you or what your pimp did to me.
One thing is for sure. I stole your Derringer pistol and revenge will be mine. One bullet for you and your pimp.
I should've known something was wrong when my dad started getting sick.
My Stepmother is evil and for many weeks, she poisoned him with arsenic.
It was five years ago today when she finished him off with the final dose.
I hated my Stepmother even though Dad wanted the two of us to be close.
It took me a while to get it done but I was finally able to have Dad's body exhumed.
When high levels of arsenic were found in his body, my Stepmother was doomed.
I was determined to bring her to justice and I knew that I wouldn't fail.
She was found guilty by a jury and I was happy because justice prevailed.
The judge sentenced her to life in prison with no chance of parole.
I loathe that woman, I can never get back Dad's life that she stole.
(Even though this poem is fictional, many women really have killed people with Arsenic.)
Arsenic has an atomic number of 33.
It has 33 protons in its nucleus and
33 electrons buzzing around the nucleus.
1.When arsenic is mixed into food or drink,
2.It is odorless,colorless and tasteless and
the symptoms of a single large dose resemble
those of bad food poisoning.
3.Arsenic can also be given in smaller doses
over a longer period of time that produces
subtler slowly progressing symptoms including,
weakness,confusion,paralysis and death.
4.Hydrogen cyanide is a pale blue or colorless
liquid at room temperature,while sodium cyanide
and potassium cyanide are white powders.
5.Symptoms are weakness,nausea,seizures,
difficulty breathing,and cardiac arrest.
Note.Chemical Drink,Drugs and Injection GAME.
audible by design, cheating fate playing as life's protector
you had me fooled, with blinking and what not
caring on as, you pushed out your white powered of illness
but it did not wash my black away
my illness is but away to let me see
you planed with great care to take my life form from me~
i want only to see your good name paster all over the news
and for other to know that in your blood.... line
only hate will appear~ with money and sin taken with smilies
so that in your death other will curse your name...
and see that those that came from your fruit...
are but arsenic by design~
aka:lyricvixen
She saw her husband hold a woman tight.
Began plotting his death with adamsite.
Rage dissipated and became more light
When his cousin came to spend the night
For it was the woman she had seen
Hugging her husband so rich and keen.
Adamsite pushed behind things that clean.
Killing him now would be really mean
women can be killers too
vicious heartless murderers
arsenic used to be undetectable
odorless and tasteless, weapon of choice
feeding it to your victim is gruesome
they suffer a slow, painful agonizing death
it lasts for days and days; no one knows what is wrong
except for the scheming, conniving, murdering wife.
how can they watch a man they once loved suffer like this?
Is insurance money worth their soul?
Torn are the pages of a callow poet’s scripts and poetry
whose temperaments in intensity brews, obscurity he owns
this lad of seventeen summers, by deluges done in,
unfortunate understanding and s
u
c c o r beyond his reach
Could it be his fiery red hair complements his fiery despair?
Flames of passion forged and fashioned from fragments
of wholeness denied blamed
Treacherous wrath resilient with bounds
and a harsh fixation that poison can cure
A martyr of poetic unjust, starved wooing words
spurned disdainfully by ruthless curs
O the valor oft times dons the mantle of resign,
sobering, despairing leap away, away
from the s c o r c h i n g i n f e r n o
internal, and into the great expansive beyond
Alas, at Sir Wrens St Andrew’s,
there lay the flesh of a premature eternal rest
and then, to bones yet destined to become fully-fledged
w p o i s o n t
h h
y y
t s
h ? e
e l
n_ _f
an arsenic end,
steel grey runs through veins
conscious elements eminence
Farewell to his anguished soul,
for his is a romantic eternal g’bye
fiery passions, temperate, b’fore him
an endless sorrowful slumber
A forger’s legacy
Elinoure and Juga Rowley works
War irks, such irks
Scarlet drips his corpse
O beloved knight in shining armor,
sisters’ pleas _/\_ raven’s mimicry
What war brings is not bright
“Virtue’s race
Is run in paths of pleasantness
and peace
though narrow, yet sufficient for the few
who have this Pearl of Price
alone in view”
—Thomas Chatterton
ART!
He painted my death,
With such dedication I've never seen before.
Every stroke of his brush, on that paper, marking out each curve, twist, and turn my body made
As I writhed in pain.
Premeditated murder, or a death masquerading as suicide, or perhaps just an unlucky soul.
My hands on my throat as I choked to death,
He didn't need to add a drop to my tea to pronounce me dead.
Because every time I brushed his gift to me,
I was gasping and blushing at how beautifully he depicted my death,
And swore that it was breathtaking.
It was really breathtaking!
My body was found lying on the green grass,
Sprawled in a weirdly shaped position, just as he had predicted.
I gave him his last gift:
A live picture of me modeling his artwork, in afterlife.
Who would know that arsenic was the green-dye monster,
But was also made into a painting to die for.
Emer
innoxious odor
faintly fishy
I think of salmon I say
it could be arsenic
this was thrown out by dour Debby Downer
we always get worse scenarios from her
it reminds me of catfish
my upbeat-mother-in-law says,
trying to salvage the family meal.
it is not our fault her other son married Debby Downer