Best Hit Man Poems
A magic mirror told the queen that Snow White was the fairest in the land!
This put Her Majesty in a terrible snit and to the woods she had her banned!
She hired a hit man to have Snow White slain but he'd have none of that!
He let her go and she trudged along a path and came upon this run-down flat.
She rapped upon the door and hearing no answer stealthily crept inside.
Snow White had never seen such clutter - such a mess she could not abide!
She grabbed a broom, mop and pail and began to swab and dust and sweep.
Weary from her labors she climbed the stairs, found a bed and fell asleep!
The unlikely denizens of the little shack worked in the local diamond mine.
'Twas a 'Grimm' looking lot wending their way home through towering pine.
Dopey the younger, Doc the intellectual, Bashful, he with the coy pose,
Drousy Sleepy, crabby Grumpy, pudgy Happy and Sneezy with finger to his nose!
The little munchkins arrived home to find this beautiful creature in their bed!
She awoke rubbing sleep from her eyes, stared in disbelief and nearly fled!
Eventually, Snow White became a mother figure to that chaotic, motley crew!
She tucked them in bed, cooked their grub and settled beefs when fisticuffs flew!
Each morn the dorks shouldered tools heading for the pit to earn their dough,
Singing a quaint song they made famous, "Hi ho! Hi ho! Its off to work we go!"
Mister Disney made this classic film in 1937 when I was but a mere child!
Even today in my dotage, watching it with my grandkids, I'm still beguiled!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Tied for First Place in Linda Marie's "Disney" Contest - August 2011
Categories:
hit man, funnyhome, snow, home, snow,
Form:
Rhyme
Insane
Defiantly I admonish you to just leave me alone,
Stop following me incessantly like a rowdy foe.
How forcefully must I tell, you've lost your soul,
Your sinister ways to love me I do not condone.
You shadow my presence everywhere I go
Blatantly invading every peaceful place I know.
Lurking around my private life in public places,
Posting online photos and ugly lewd messages.
If you're ever spotted at my kids' school again
You can be sure I will file a police complaint,
Quite often have I warned you to back away
Yet you keep treating me like I'm your prey.
One day you called my wife on a falls pretense,
Now you treat her like she's your best friend
Spreading lies intently to prejudice her mind
Encroaching on our daily lives in ways unkind.
You joined our church, though you live far away,
I hear you'll volunteer at school every Monday.
Now I am distressed by your manipulative ways,
Prompting me to take action to deter your sway.
At the height of insanity you finally lost control,
Quite appropriately you must soon pay a toll
As you sit in jail awaiting sentence for your crime
For you tried to hire a hit-man to kill my wife.
First Place
November 10, 2017
Stalker
Sponsor: Silent One
Categories:
hit man, evil, mental illness,
Form:
Verse
War is a sickness that kills one by one,
you never know it's coming until - BAM!
It will sneak up on you like a hit man,
and it makes sure to take your only son.
When I think about what they could have done
to stop this madness before it began,
my thoughts are of preaching's from a wise Man
named Jesus Christ, only begotten Son.
He talks of forgiveness and being meek,
to always show kindness to thy neighbor.
Even if they aren't worthy of your time,
still, you must love and turn the other cheek.
Don't be too weary of all your labor,
that you are willing to commit a crime.
Categories:
hit man, god, jesus, war,
Form:
Italian Sonnet
this will be good and slippery
in a whistling fall from grace
feel free to edit in a picture of your choice
the more grotesque the more accurate
while glancing at your wrist watch
over and over when you knew
your 30 seconds was up centuries ago
we agree to be controlled
he said speaking in archetypes
here then is my plan for world conquest
say Bob that was some intro
right you are Nick
and just what the tired evacuated
non combatants at home needed
you know Bob our audience should be issued guns
right you are Bill the results would be immediate
h-h-h-howdy there f-f-fans
g-g-glad to see you all p-p-packin
ha ha ha ha ha good one Bill
who does your thinking for you by the way
OK you've been briefed
if I wrote as few words as possible
the page would be blank
and useless as a postmodern hit man
speculating on the utility of spectacles
driven by a fear of the ordinary
in an ideological trance
at this point it could go either way
even reality is an approximation of reality
but there is no question of stopping
onward he plunged sarcastically
into a semiotic twilight of the gods
everything red shifted in a bar stool curse
too many crevasses on this ice berg
blinded by white phosphorous
receptors wide open overt and undeniable
incorrect labeling why is it a necessity
would you know your number
if your number was up
he stood before his firing squad
snickering and giggling and rolling his eyes
got a last cigarette
I have to smoke I'm a witch
the squad broke up with laughter
pissed their pants
and shot the lieutenant
if I'm in this much trouble now
God help me tomorrow
From "Engine of Didactic Beauty" available on Amazon
Artist Portfolio: http://walteralter.byethost32.com/
Categories:
hit man, how i feel,
Form:
Free verse
It’s when you don't have
the money for a hit man.
And you know something
needs to be done.
If you have a hot date
and your boss asked you
to work late.
Dial 1-800 Whoop that ass!
The whoop ass delivery Service,
We will deliver a can of whup ass
anywhere to anyone at any time
day or night,
if there wrong or right,
in any kind of weather.
Call and ask about
the wet ass whupping
for no extra charge.
For someone who needs
there Ass handed to them
Thee old fashion way.
Let us do that for you.
Dial 1-800 Whoop that ass.
On your request,
we can leave them
on their feet
or laying on the ground.
We can deliver a can of whup ass
in public or when no one's around.
Satisfaction Guaranteed
or we will tear that ass up.
If a loved one
doesn’t know how come home,
or people who get smart
with you on the phone.
Hang up and dial...
1-800 Whoop that ass.
The Whoop ass delivery Service
let’s you choose one of three sizes,
Small, (This is going to hurt)
Medium, (We're going to break something.)
and the Large. (Put them in the Hospital)
Each package comes with fightback insurance.
Just in case the subject’s tries to fight back
In which case
we will beat the snot out them.
Ladies if you want
to keep your abusive husband in line,
then keep us in mind.
Dial 1-800 Whoop that ass.
Ladies our slap happy option
comes as a back-hand service.
Where at you request.
we can just slap the piss
out of them.
slap the taste out they mouth.
Or even slap them clean
into next week.
Dial 1-800 Whoop that ass.
And men we don't discriminate,
we can return the favor for a nominal fee.
We will slap people on both sides
of the family tree.
Dial 1-800 Whoop that ass.
We take Visa, Master card, and American Express.
But don't let credit problems get in the way!
You can even put an Ass Whooping on Lay-away.
Find us online at any time. @WhoopthatAss.com
Copyright ISBN-13 978-19781188973
ISBN-10 197811897TX
Categories:
hit man, funny, funny love, hilarious,
Form:
Free verse
When I got back to the hotel I knew there was nothing I could do to make this work for everyone. Her brother was the hit and had to go. Killing him would kill her and break my heart. Of course, she would never know it was I. But I wanted to get close to this woman. I wanted to be her man. And lies would never work. This woman was far to intuitive for me to think I could get away with killing her brother. If I didn’t kill him they would kill me. A hit man never walks away free. Only one thing to do.
I packed my bags and shipped my girl back home. This hit was not going to happen.
When I got back I slowly unpacked and put everything away. I had a night to sleep on it while I waited for my girl to return home.
The next day FedEx delivered her to me. We would meet our final destiny together. I tracked down my contact and said I wanted to meet. We setup the meeting for 3 PM at his place. When I walked I wasted him before he could say hello. I walked out the door and called Anna and asked her to marry me. Before she could answer I told her to meet me in Cuba at the Hotel Saratoga and she could decide then.
All she said was “yes.”
Categories:
hit man, devotion, love,
Form:
Narrative
WHO AM I WHAT AM I
Who am i, what am i, whats my place
Who is my GOD am i important
does being black mean am inferior...
am i any less a mortal..
does being black determine
whats between my ears..
your Gods today i have begotten you..
What was David yapping.... about am black
Do i need pity because am from Africa...
NO.. I have pride and self worth
The west doesn't define me..
There is no other place id rather be born..
Kenya the LAND of splendor and mysteries
OH I wish you would see kerenyaga
the mountain of spender and mysteries
Dedicated to NGAI MURUNGU the supreme
creator..Land of freedom fighters
field marshal and general.. kimathi.
general mwariama are my heroes
real life heroes not superman
Kenyatta, Nyerere Nkuruma.. the pan African dream
then hit the economic hit man and i was brought to-
my dreams..western corporations have patent even..
kikuyu Grass now belonging to them...
the kikoy my grandfather wore now its their patent
our minerals and diamond the Cary from Congo
then pay merceneries to keep the war alive..
Their media propagating a dark continent
without hope..where people are diseased
with a distended stomach... selling death ****
To are people deluded that they are superior..
their leader a son of our soil...
www . ya mumbi . com a resource for us
you are welcome to learn the way of my GOD
And our splendid culture and yes you will
see the mountain i used to see as i walked
to first grade without shoes..no that we couldn't
afford but my neighbor... couldn't and am sensitive
to less fortunate...
A black but am also human
i have value systems and
i have wealth above all am fair
Africa kills her sun...
a good poet once said
Africa Renaissance...
lewis k nyaga.
kenya..ww w.yam umbi. com
Categories:
hit man, africa, , western,
Form:
Narrative
Love is what it is
Like a baby, well nourished it grows
The eye is the sole instigator
Falling for something the heart beholds
Space and time find no compromise
That gradually feed the ego
With the green eye monster at controls
For heaven sake, aren't we humans?
Jealousy is an unmasked hit man
Flaring in all directions of life
Categories:
hit man, jealousy, love hurts,
Form:
Couplet
(read Part 1 first)
Woken by a sound, then reaches for his piece.
Startled from that faintest whisper, on the run from the police
Four hours sleep for this mysterious chap is normality,
Slips into his Armani suit, this being the usual formality.
Waiting, expressionless next to the hotel window, 7 floors high
The death of his mother would not even make this man cry.
Cold hearted by nature, his soul found a way to escape this life
It all started that day when he came home to his bloodied wife.
Leaving his home that very day…. no return for Joe, couldn‘t wait.
He stood pale faced alone in the pouring rain, not knowing his fate.
(How did this happen to him, how could his wife be gone?
He left for work, then came back…….what did he do wrong?)
Months later, still no emotion displayed on his clammy skin
Being determined that he will not stop until he feels a win.
A puzzle, fits words like a crossword, coloured shapes in holes
Slowly but for sure, he is watching as this enigma unfolds
He has his target, blonde hair, blue eyes with a trade mark scar.
This man surrounded by ‘his men’, he drives a blacked out car.
He knows no limits, no mountain too high, no abyss too deep
Joe will not stop until the end, his goal to put this man to sleep.
This target will not have it easy, its part of Joes plan.
Do not mistake the stalking from Joe as being “Mr Scars” biggest fan
Empty houses with darkened windows, he watching for the right time
Months ago Joe would have never have lead a life of crime.
Days not hours, patiently waiting for ‘Scar’ to show his face.
A tear runs down Joeys face, memories return but he keeps his grace.
What’s this? Scar on his own with no protection around his bubble
It will be the biggest mistake he has made, for he is now in trouble.
(Part 3 in writing)
Categories:
hit man, adventurehome, home,
Form:
Rhyme
Cameras snap on the last action tourists trap
As shutters flash, bullets fly by respectfully
Go past Sunday services at high velocity
Stain glass windows stay intact
Some one falls from the high church tower
Assisted by gravity, a force of nature at work
A push out a window from a stranger works as well
Even better, since it brings a man to his senses
In a splat, a stain on the pavement
Obsequious to that end to make a mark
On the square, over a glass of cold fresh brew
A hit man, this time, does not miss his mark
The story, like the beer, is delicious this time of year
Robbery is also good to attract new business
Loaded guns must bow to authority
To conduct commerce on the streets
Ammo leaves chambers only by permission
Empty, safe and sound as ordinances intend
Approved by law enforcement
There is no end to city limits
Tourists are the center of attraction
Our aim is to aim at them
Credit the Chamber of Commerce
They do business the old fashioned way
At the end of the barrel of a gun
Emptied chambers make more profits
Bullets don't pay taxes
Categories:
hit man, abuse, appreciation, business, conflict,
Form:
Free verse
O.K.K.K.
Sit down and allow me to tell you a story
but first let's all take an inventory
we've got the K.K.K. riding around with shotguns and a black target or two
we 've got the Mafia running almost all of Las Vegas and making huge bucks to leave you black and blue
and there ain't a stich of clothing you're wearing didn't get the Mafia's okay
And when they stop ruling it that will be the day
who whacked who to take over the garbage end of the deal?
and who killed who to be handed over delivery trucks made of Mafia steel?
from the corner store on Tenth Street and death
ain't nothing that doesn't have a price, everything but your blessed breath
and then we got gang members shooting another gang because he crossed the turf
instead of bragging about bullet wounds they should all learn to surf
we've got as many drugs in the prisons as you do on the street
and that's all because of jailhouse guard Gordon and prisoner Pete
Pete's in for life because he didn't like his old girlfriend kissing another
so Pete took a shotgun and blew the girl away because she was doing Pete's brother
so Pete paces the pen that ain't even ten by ten
but here comes jailhouse guard Gordon to soothe down a lot of men
i think it's an ingenious idea of Gordon
Keep all the men doped up and you won't need a Warden
Little Lois used to live with her mother Mable and father Fred
but there was a drive by shooting and now poor little Lois is dead
but it didn't matter how and why the young girl died
it matters that God is no longer our guide
Satan took his spot when people believed the Lord was dead
at least that's what Tommy Tatola had said
you know Tommy who's somehow into both the mafia and jails
and there's always being a hit man when all else fails
But Tommy's brother went a completely opposite way
he's down south murdering innocent African Americans with the K.K.K.
© 2011.…Phreepoetree ~free cee!~
Categories:
hit man, angst, girl, drug,
Form:
Dizain
Cameras snap the last actions as tourists flash
Bullets fly by at respective velocities in streets
As dark humor goes out the window in Bruges
Some one falls from the high church tower
Assisted by gravity, a force of nature works well
A push from a stranger works even better
To bring him to his senses, obsequious to that end
A splat, a stain on the pavement below, where else
On the square, over a glass, a sampling of fresh brew
A hit man, this time, does not miss his mark
The story, like the beer, is delicious this time of year
Authors Note: The film named “In Bruges” (Who would do such a thing?) is a gem of a movie.
Colin Farrell, (eye brows and all), stars with Brendan Gleeson and Ralph Fiennes. A must see.
Categories:
hit man, appreciation, celebrity, conflict, dark,
Form:
Free verse
There was a time between the two when things were so great
One day, she didn't show when they had a date
He stood on the corner waiting in the rain
The lonliness, the heartache, the pain
He hired a Detective named Darren Keaton
On tape, Minnie is caught cheatin'
It is all that Micke had feared
Now wherever he goes, there is a trail of tears
He tries to hire Goofy as his hit man
Goofy says, no need for money, I understand
Mickey throws all of Minnie's clothes in he trash and burns her favorite blouse
Leave a note on the door, it reads, Hear Yee, Hear Yee, Minnie is no longer
welcomed in the House of Mouse
Minnie insists Daisy encouraged her to have a fling
She taught me how. she literally took me under her wing
Minnie admits about fantasies with actor Will Wheaton
Face the facts Minnie, cameras don't lie you got caught cheatin'
She says her thing with Roger Rabbit was a big mistake
Her hands are sore from endless hours of Patty Cake
She was seen with a stripper from Chippen Dales
Because of Palimony payments, Minnie always lives upscale
She was pulled over and found to be drunk behind the wheel
She got away without so much as a ticket using her seductive skills
Olive Oil was hired to give Minnie a never forget beatin'
Popeye comments, she deserves it, she's been cheatin
Pink Panther says he will date Minnie, even though she is used goods
Mickey wants her buried deep in the woods
Minnie is never seen again after the fateful day
At the funeral, Mickey celebrates her going away
He says in life my motto is always celebrate the death of the ones you hate and
love
Whether their destination is below or above
I believe the Devil has her heatin
Mickey feels better knowing you are paying for cheatin'
Categories:
hit man, animals, funny, me,
Form:
ABC
There once was a man named Bobby Joe
From a small town in New Mexico
Always wearing pointed toed cowboy boots
With a three piece polyester business suit
Bobby Joe stood about six foot four
Was handsome and sun-tanned dark
All the women fell in love at first sight
And were left with a broken heart
Bobby Joe was smart and serious
Had a fight to pick with big business
Said they were ruining Indian land
With big oil rigs digging in the sand
The Harvard lawyers talked in corporate-speak
To the paid for judges to whom they did entreat
After pleading their case for twenty-four hours long
Bobby Joe simply said, “What you’re doing is wrong”
“You’re on Indian lands under a made-up law
Leaving nothing behind but an ugly scar
Lining your pockets with profits never higher
You say all is fair and I say you’re a liar”
Bobby Joe knew it was a case he couldn’t win
But he also knew he had to try
No one would fight for the poor Indian
No one could hear the Great Spirit cry
While in court he unveiled all their lies
Then at night he would sleep with their wives
He was losing his case on legal terms
But news reports made executives squirm
When they found Bobby Joe full of bullet holes
Suspects, they had an awful lot
By a jealous husband or a forlorn wife
Or an executive hit man he was shot
The case was closed with no arrests made
Everyone was glad that he was gone
American greed won again that day
Writing a tragic end to this hero's song
Categories:
hit man, life, people
Form:
Ode
Nobody ever forgets where he buried the hatchet. ~ Kin Hubbard
Riley was a control freak
barking orders at his wife
who'd scurry like a timid mouse
knowing if she didn't conform
a barrage of blows would rain down on her body
Of course, he made certain
not to mar her pretty face -
he needed her to look good
when she collected
his beer from the local store
leaving home at the same time every day
she was always back within the hour
But...unbeknownst to Riley
his wife Lou had caught the eye
of Sid the store keeper
they would steal passionate kisses
on his coffee break
which coincided with her visits
Sid knew her life was unbearable
and secretly he hired a hit man
to do the deed when Lou was out shopping
Riley was felled with one blow….
Nobody ever forgets where the hitman buried the hatchet!
Quotable Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Regina McIntosh
10/18/20
Categories:
hit man, abuse,
Form:
Free verse