Best Assassinated Poems
it was the sixties
we were young
we were going to change the world
spin it like a basketball on our finger
take the three point shot
win the game
we had great leaders
john, robert, martin...
the planet was singing
with the purity of a four year old
...
The ants go marching two by two;
The little one stops to tie his shoe,
...
then
it started raining bullets
our optimism soured
slightly at first
and the grassy knoll
and the sniper
and the magic bullet
john was shot
jackie squirmed
we sat on the edge of our seats
The ants go marching four by four;
The little one stops to shut the door,
John F. Kennedy was assassinated
The ants go marching five by five;
The little one stops to take a dive,
years had passed, five
look before you dive
the civil rights movement gathered
to fight for their God given rights
the right to be treated as humans
exactly that...humans...no more no less.
to listen to the man who had said
"Nonviolence is a powerful and just weapon
which cuts without wounding and ennobles
the man who wields it. It is a sword that heals."
the man who stood on the hill speaking
"I have a dream today!"
The ants go marching seven by seven;
The little one stops to pray to heaven,
Boom, boom, boom, boom!
Martin Luther King Jr. was shot
died
and my God it rained
it rained salt
as a nation black and white cried
The ants go marching nine by nine;
The little one stops to check the time,
time for the rise of Bobby
Hoorah! Hoorah!
Boom, boom, boom, boom!
i wish he could have ran faster than the bullets
they murdered John's brother
Robert F. Kennedy was dead
the sixties where almost finished
and i wondered
if the world would ever be the same
again
I marched away buried my face into the ground
To get out of my pain.
great leaders lost
words that radiated
radiate hope
America was
the envy of the world
it's two thousand sixteen
and we have sunk so deep into the dirt
i know we can't Trump this disaster
have you ever heard of fools gold
we have a choice
our lives count
remember the ants
nature's banner is blowing in the wind
don't make
the little one shout
"THE END!!"
March 16 2016
armand
Categories:
assassinated, philosophy,
Form:
Free verse
To my enemies,
cloaked in t w i n k l i n g topaz~
I’ve become immune
to your illusive m a n t r a s,
recited in roseate refrains.
I’ve learned to see
the vermilion
f l o a t i n g
between venomous
pigments of
psychedelic sunsets
For life is a whirlpool
of uncertainties
slithering through
l o o p h o l e s of adversities
We waltz through
h i g h s and l o w s
while masked foes
orchestrate a
a circus embellished
in emerald s p r i n g s
Yet, I f o r g i v e
your i g n o r a n t skies,
unable to grasp
the vision of loyalty
You’ve long been
preaching in
verses of lyrical lies,
soaring above
catastrophic canopies~
draped with my
sentimental s i g h s
this conscience remains
constantly crippled
by the ecstasy of
poisonous promises~
served from
diamond chalices
once upon
a blood m o o n
There’s still
a pearlescent
shore for faithless
footprints in the
island of h e a l i n g
in the marine bed
of softness
that f l o w s
beneath seething seas,
there I’ll sculpt a
lagoon of
p r a y e r s across
fire corals that
f l i c k e r
in tints of
lethal lime green
As I allow aquatic
pearl ruffles to ripple
through weary waves,
they become the
sacred v e s s e l
that unveils
hyacinth stars,
when your heart is
as dark as the
eclipsed moonflowers
Tonight, I’ll rewrite
the poems I’ve woven
from golden arrows
that assassinated
the alliterative tranquility
in sinister silence
within my inner psyche
In the journey of revival
I’ve mastered the art
of wearing pain
like a crown of
thistles and thorns
I’ll forgive you
amidst unspoken apologies,
and e r a s e the
a c h i n g colors
within greying rainbows,
behind your
soulless eyes.
For, I can feel the
insecurities r u s h i n g
through those veins~
longing for an empathetic
empire that
serves you
k i n d n e s s
So take these metaphors,
make them yours,
ink them across
your s u n l e s s canvas,
and r i s e beyond the
demons that lurk
as shadows within
your a r t l e s s heart.
May the light of twilight,
correct your insincere intentions.
Categories:
assassinated, forgiveness,
Form:
Free verse
waiting
with diaper on
for this woman to get up
off the kitchen floor and
stop bleeding while a man
hovers over her with grimace
and clinched fist
waiting
for our first-grade teacher
to stop crying
over the P.A. announcement
that the president
has just been assassinated
in Dallas
waiting
on the spirit of Christmas
to return days after the news
that mother's favorite song "You Send Me"
had just been shot and killed
a few blocks from our home
waiting
in the backseat of a Packard
for the policeman to stop screaming
at my father as urban soldiers
toss fire from their hands
in our neighborhood just outside of Watts
waiting
at LAX for Wilt the Stilt
to come back and finish
signing autographs after
some idiot just called him a freak
waiting
for the bowtie and scowl
to let go of my arm so I
can shake the hand of
the Greatest of All Time
as he starts his comeback
with an exhibition bout
in East Los Angeles
waiting
with eighteen-year-old trembling knees
for that sheriff deputy
to remove his pump action shotgun
from my temple
waiting
in the delivery room
for the wrong woman
to have my child
waiting
at a motel
for the right woman
to find the time
to slip away
waiting
on the side of
the ninety-one freeway
for a motorcade to pass
shortly after the funeral
of a former president
shamed by the Watergate scandal
waiting
and looking
while holding onto
the entry gate at 875 S. Bundy Dr.
for some sign of what really
happened that night
waiting
along with F.E.M.A. and the Red Cross
for the distraught woman
to come with us to safety
days after the Northridge earthquake
leveled her million-dollar home
waiting
at the hospital
for my first grandchild
to be born while her father
who's been convicted of battery
is nowhere to be found
waiting, waiting
seems like I'm always
waiting
Categories:
assassinated, poetry,
Form:
Narrative
Row by row for miles it seems
perfectly aligned, the white stones rise
Stoic symbols of brave men and women
a sight that brings tears to our eyes
In irony, a bald eagle rests
atop a single grave marker
He seems to know that each life snuffed
leaves our world a bit darker
Changing of the guard
at the tomb of an unknown warrior
Precise, rigid, respectful
performed with utmost honor
Who's buried there?
Fathers, husbands, even wives
This tomb represents all lost in action
as they gave their lives
On the far side of Arlington
an eternal flame is still aglow
For an assassinated president
JFK - another war hero
You cannot visit the cemetery
without shedding tears
For the noble and brave young soldiers
whose sacrifices secured our years
Yes, years, decades, centuries
of feeling safe on U.S. shores
Came with the hefty price
countless casualties of wars
As sunset darkens their resting place
let’s raise our eyes to the sky
Praying our troops return safely
and, in peace, the eagle will fly
July 12, 2014
*Dedicated to all of the men and women who have preserved our freedom.
Categories:
assassinated, military, patriotic,
Form:
Rhyme
The decade
that saw
end of cold war
fall of Berlin Wall.
In Asia
Tianamen Square
student bloodbath,
democracy restored
in Philippines with 'People Power Revolution'..
first big shock of my life--
Indira assassinated.
In sports
'Hand of God' goal by Maradona,
Michael Jackson--his Moonwalk dance,
Stevie Wonder--"I just called to.........."
enjoyed"Rain Man","Driving Miss Daisy".
And in my life
first love,broken heart,
fragmented pieces
still stitching..........
#Indira Gandhi,the Prime Minister of India was gunned down in 1984.
© 2011 kashinath karmakar (7th May 2011)
=================================================
Placement: 7th; (May 2011)
Contest:Magic Of Decade's Mood
Sponsor:Nette Onclaud
Categories:
assassinated, history, passion
Form:
Verse
Is it cause youre small minded Mr jones asks the many voices who once had
repect counting the crows pecking the and gouging out their eyes?
Is it cause you loathe what you dont understand and this revelation is something
they need to see in themselves?
Is it the fact you carry a heavy load and need a helping hand
was it the opium you down like poison that you Jones for
leaving you to ask who i am?
Whats the will I am saying?
as he steals my spotlight
leaving me here assassinated verbally like a sitting duck
sure im no hippy sniffing daisies
pounding on drums in peace beads begging for sex
with a picket sign saying peace please
Is it because im gay?
Is it because im spiritual?
do we have ***** envy?
Have you read the lists?
are you going to pay the tithe?
and before you mash the send button with snide cruel bitter comments
please please
don't think twice
the murder of crows circling
cawing in the blood moon sky
November rains down on this wedding day
and I am forever by your side
why does my will
the will i am hate me?
is it a syndrom of an itchy trigger finger
an itch below the waste
why must everyone pull eachother down
back into the boiling pot
like the crabs we truly are in this amazing race
to lose it all
then fall
and sing and
sway and praise
and humm such blasphemous amazing grace
of grammatical errors and spelling mistakes
oh sweet sugar coatings
and icing on the cake
The will iam
I wonder counting crows
a famous last name with me
Mr jones
why do you hate the will I am
Is it because i read tarot cards?
is it because i'm gay?
is it because i'm amongst favorites?
is it because im controversial?
is it because you have nothing to say?
but who am i flamethrower
i sit here a hack
with a curse gor the harpie you are
and a smile upon my face
i throw this effortless nothing
and never look back
the stone falls into the pool of the abyss
oh will i am
mr jones
why do you loathe what you dont understand?
Categories:
assassinated, confusion, hope, introspection, people,
Form:
Free verse
Many dictators come to a well-deserved fate
Brutally assassinated or dying at their own hands,
Consider these more recent promoters of hate
In third world countries and distant foreign lands.
Hitler, Stalin, Mussolini immediately come to mind,
But Mao, “Papa Doc” and Castro died from ill health
They, like too many, lived to a ripe-old age, we find,
And too many lived in opulence, off ill-gotten wealth.
Nicolae Ceausescu of Romania is a notable exception
He was executed by firing squad along with his wife.
All these men were evil incarnate, it's my perception,
It is my opinion they should’ve all been denied life.
Written December 4, 2022
Categories:
assassinated, anti bullying, death, evil,
Form:
Quatrain
Get me inside quickly and as fast as you can,
please turn the time travel dial to September 1963
Get me to a post office in Washington, D.C.,
so I can send an important letter to Jacque Kennedy.
The letter will tell her about her newest son, Patrick,
ahead of time I will give her his four pound birth weight.
To prove I am ahead, and I know what I am talking about,
I will tell her about my time travel, and warn her of the fate
And that her husband, President John F. Kennedy
is in grave danger, warn her on November 23rd, 1963,
If she lets him go to Dallas and ride in an open limousine,
he will be assassinated at her knee.
Trip number two, will bring me to February 1968,
but I will stay in the same post office. Here is the thing.
I will write a detailed letter to Coretta Scott King,
warning her about the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King.
To prove that I am reliable I will tell her that January 30th,
1956 is the day a bomb
will go off on her porch, but it will not hurt anyone.
After a little sandwich, and a drink in a cold fountain,
I will now dial up August 14th, 1969, and head to the
Catskill Mountains,
It will be splendid to be the first to arrive,
At Woodstock, a day ahead of the crowd
of 400, 000, now I am feeling truly alive.
I will be civil, not puffed up or proud.
I will spend three glorious days enjoying the music here,
enjoying the hip-hugging bell-bottoms, dairy cows, staying clear
of the bra-less women and the minds that are a bit unclear.
My last trip is easy. I will return to two days ago, and from breakfast
re-do that entire day.
I was pretty mean to my husband,
and I would like to stop myself from acting that way.
Categories:
assassinated, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form:
Rhyme
Every day in every country,
Our language is distorted, mutated on planet Earth.
Good words like “drolic” die,
Whilst “wanna ‘ave a go” is given a birth.
In Australia it’s clearly a Mad World with
Slang words destroying our grammar.
“Yeah naah, naah yeah”
Smash literature, smash it with a hammer.
We always modify and contort our words,
“Too right, this arvo, I’m rooted, go crack a fat”.
Aussies go getting’ it written in permanent,
“Good onya” a fair dinkum tat.
When u were left alone, alone to fight,
Fight for survival, u gave it a crack.
But the society of dictionaries, they stood,
Stood up straight, and then they turned their back.
So, traditional writing is dying,
Stuttering, falling, the writing’s on the wall.
See ya later elocution,
Ya didn’t shorten, that’s been ya downfall.
But alas, don’t freak, ur family name is safe,
Since some old words evolve and new are created.
Shakespeare invented and killed off heaps himself,
Arch villain, rant, drugged and assassinated.
Lyric: Mad world
Cliche: The writing on the wall
Image: Crowd of people turn their backs on a fight
Entered into "Lyrics cliché image" contest 5/14/2016, ranked First place
Categories:
assassinated, drug, language, literature, remember,
Form:
Rhyme
American Bandstand, Aqua Velva Ads, Aretha Franklin, and, the Andy Griffith Show
Black lights, Bewitched, bean bag chairs, beads, Batman and the Beatles
Cleopatra, Corvairs, Corvettes, Chevelles, Captain Kangaroo, Civil Rights Movement
Dionne Warwick, Derek and the Dominoes, Dennis the Menace, and Dodge Dart.
Ed Sullivan’s Amateur Hour, Elvis Presley, the Edsel, and new expressions emerge.
Fiddler on the Roof , Flower Power painted vans, Free love, Fiber optic lights,
Giget, Green Acres, Glen Campbell, Gun Smoke, Go-Go Boots, “Go with the flow!”
Hello Dolly, Have Gun Will Travel,and the Hippie Movement begin...“Hang Ten”
Imperial (the car), I dream of Jeanie, and new phrases “In your face” crop up.
JFK youngest U.S. President, and Jackie Kennedy stylish First Lady,
Kennedy was assassinated and the nation mourned the loss of their young leader.
Lamborghini 350 GT, Lava Lamps, Lady and the Tramp, Lost in Space, Lassie
Mousekateers, mini-skirts, mobiles, macramé plant hangars, Mash, The Monkeys,
Nissan Skyline GT-R, Nash Metropolitan, and Nestles’ Nestle were signs of the times.
Ordinary people seek peace during the years of war and social change of the 60s.
Pillsbury Doughboy, Petticoat Junction,and Peter, Paul, and Mary, placate.
Queen for the Day TV show, bring a fantasy escape during radically changing times.
Rabbit ear antennas for TV shows: Route 66, and Rowan and Martin’s Laugh- In.
Sherri Lewis and Lamb Chop, Shake and Bake, and the sexual revolution start.
Twist to The Four Tops, The Flintstones,The Adam’s Family, The Twilight Zone.
“Up your nose with a rubber hose” and similar expressions are the times’ lingo.
Valley of the Dolls, Volkswagon Karmann Ghia, and Vanilla Fudge, gain popularity.
Wonderful World of Disney, Vietnam War, protests, and “Groovy” words crop up.
Xenoglossia emerges; “Make love, not war,” “Far out,” “Catch you on the flip-side.”
Yonderly Vietnam Veterans return home to social unrest without a hero’s honor.
Zanadu dances around in the minds of the partakers; religion is legal, not marijuana.
Copyright March 7, 2015
Written for Poetry Soup Member Contest: The Decades
Sponsor: Kelly Deschler
Categories:
assassinated, america, angst, fashion, history,
Form:
Abecedarian
The Champion
Controlled by remote desires I trip the laurel fuse of longing ancestry
My Mom had been chosen to compete diving from the high platform of
Hitler’s mania for ‘Kraft’ ‘Freude’ living space terror raised arms and all in
guns blazing a misplaced childhood offered on the altar of manic delusion
Wreaths gathered dust on unmarked graves white crossed monuments
administered torches blazed parades marched lined the ‘Higher Faster
Longer’ ‘More Ideologically Corrupt’ abuse of innocent festival of youth
Replaced demounted sacred Mount Olympus for Auschwitz and Stalingrad
My mother was no Jesse Owens who blackened Nazi dreams of whiter than
white no ‘Black Consciousness Runner’ shoving gloves to the sky in post-fascist
Munich 1972 quite close to Dachau where Jews Sinti and Roma vanished
at the hand of Swastika’s psychopathology for denial distanced denied memory
A colour TV to watch remote from a distance was the closest she ever got to
her dream of honour and glory disgraced by politics assassinated like Israeli
athletes in a continuation and preview of fanatical devilish monsters high and
low jacking innocent sports for propaganda politics malignant ideas and ideals
In 1944 there were no Olympics titanic battles were scrambled instead in
General’s Admiral’s chessboards and tactical blood baths no dives into chlorine
and water just rotting gassed trenches exploding the dreams pawns in the Games
crushing to bone meal the Peace with their tanks and grenades fusing demise
1948 came to London awaking from ruins and rubble and the brain washed
German Olympians were banned from all sports had they not spread eagled
their passion prostituted their vigour for eugenics death Fuehrer and Fatherland
My mother tainted blemished in blood and in water a fallen hero on her sword
09th August
Written for Healing Peace and for the contest 'Olympic Mania'
Categories:
assassinated, abuse, peace, political, war,
Form:
Free verse
He was not more than twelve and I was just ten,
When in 1984, ‘they’ assassinated the PM in her den.
It was at her residence that the clay was kept.
Thousands of people reached to pay her last respect.
And we were one of them, daddy and the kids.
He was confused and afraid but for us it was the ultimate fun.
Suddenly the mob turned furious and went out of control
Nobody could help, not even those who were on patrol.
Carelessly people pushed and elbowed one another
Nobody thought for anyone, no one cared.
At that moment, two little arms surrounded me
And fought for my freedom,
I saw how he made space for me - my big brother.
Though he was crushed himself but helped me settle.
There in that dreadful situation he treated me like a petal.
It was when I was ten and he, not more than twelve.
Date: 05/01/2016
The violence in Delhi was triggered by the assassination of Indira Gandhi, the 4th Prime Minister of India .
Categories:
assassinated, brother, hero,
Form:
Free verse
You can paint me white and I will still be black
Turn my ebony black hair, make sure the chemicals
Touch every strand of my hair, erasing all trace of
My pitch black kaffir but I will still be black.
Teach me how to walk, tell me what to wear
You can even show me your version of
Civilisation yet I will still be black .
Teach me your language, let me master
The vocabulary, the pronunciation but remember,
I will still be black
Literature, science, physics,decency...yes yes
Fill that in my head puncture your history in the depths
Of me and feed me with your lies but I will still be black
Tell me I'm wrong for my awareness, threaten me with
Prison and even with my life...yes yes
Persecute me with your words but still I will
Be black no no I will not be a slave nor will
I be less than a human being. My rights
Will be intact and my freedom a shall be won
Because with all you have done, all you think you have
Taught me in your attempt to make me whit..o
During the process of you painting me white!!
I am..I am still black and concious, I am still black
And proud...I am the descendant of that old slave still
That man you would flog all day till there was no more
Flesh left to be torn, the descendant of that wrinkled
Woman you would forcefully penetrate for years on end
I am that young boy, that young girl you stole away from their
Families as though their hearts were just mere illusion
I am black and aware of that man you
Assassinated simply because he cried "freedom"
Steve Biko , Chris Hani, King Albert Luthuli,
MartinLuther King and Malcom X I am
Sure you have heard those names
I am the black daughter of that woman you
Disgraced and twisted.I am black
A black young woman at the peak of her life
Embracing hee struggle felt history
Preparing for the history to be made again
So, even if you paint me white, burn my hair
With your toxins, dress me like a doll
Tell me how to walk, talk, sit and even eat...
I will still be black as I have a free mind.
Categories:
assassinated, anti bullying, deep, discrimination,
Form:
Free verse
Men of cloth
Men of faith
Against all evils, lost hopes
Choose the light and will of the gods
They stay
Where all others flea
They reflect upon lost causes
Yet give of heart and sweat to the poor
They are not brave hearts
They are but kind souls
To the last breathe
Weep not for these heroes
The village adores and praises
For kindness transcends religious teachings
To cure and heal is god's gift
And natures way of life eternal
Pascal’s wager in the minds of a few
As old men contemplate
Wildflowers who by the grace of god, receive the sun
So in fate, planted, they stay, they do not run
They are not the last or only
They are but the hope of what can be
They reflect the goodness we all desire
In love of mankind
Des hommes et des dieux, dedicated to the Trappist monks who lived in harmony with the largely Muslim population of Algeria, until seven of them were kidnapped and assassinated in 1996 during the Algerian Civil War.
Categories:
assassinated, christian, faith, history, inspirational,
Form:
Light Verse
The first world war started because of poverty
The first world war started because of greed
The first world war started because of an assassination
The first world war started because of Ideas
The first world war started because people wanted revenge
Each Statement appears to claim, all of the truth
Each statement, appears to conflict with the others
Yet each statement is a different side of the truth
To see all of the truth you need to look at the life of people
To see all of the truth you need to look at all sides of a problem
The first world war started because of poverty
Gavrilo Princip start his life in poverty his family suffered
with six of his sibling dying in infancy poverty became
the breeding ground for his feelings of discontent
education brought him into a world of ideas
The first world war started because of greed
people in power, used the assassination as an excuse,
going to war they thought, would bring them profit,
they didn't picture themselves losing but instead,
pictured the profit of taking wealth from other countries
The first world war started because of an assassination
Gavrilo Princip joined a group called the Young Bosnia
Believing in ideals of unification inspired by ideas from
Romanticism, anarchism, and revolutionary socialism
Serbian military puppets encouraged to commit the assassination
The first word war started because of ideas,
Ideas are all around us, flooding our lives every day,
people say, get rid of the immigrants, they take our jobs,
Immigrant's say, we are better than you, we have less criminals
communism was an idea that inspired Gavrilo Princip
The first world war, started because people wanted revenge,
Archduke Franz Ferdinand and his wife where assassinated
People wanted revenge people wanted retaliation
supporting government decisions people became ready for war
with the support of the country people go to war.
Nobody started the first world war because of religion,
it started because of many, conflicting reasons
these are but a few, I sure their are many more,
but if we want to learn from the past, to make a better future,
Think hard, of how to make a better world, without war.
Categories:
assassinated, war, wisdom, world war
Form:
Narrative