Best Killing Poems


Premium Member The Joy Killing Poet

**Back smile/smile Back **

With your heads way up your :]ssa[: 
You will never accomplish the win
I got shots that will protect me from your rabid ways
After you fell into a non-stop falling disease, 
Your movements weakened
Straight from a dried up well, 
Every day you frolic in a disorder that causes more brain damage 
With progressive mental retardation 
You continue to lick the top of your cleft lips

He is the saddest sadist human that ever lived!
So sad he has to live with himself every night
Kissing his young ones Goodnight 
In ways I can't even breathe to tell
The way he follows rabbits down the bunny hole
Killing each laughing hare
Wiping smiles, leaning in, 
The madness in Alice's Wonderland 
Madder and Madder The Hatter
Revealing
Your boldness is nothing more than baldness
A man in a monkey suit
Molesting the minds of his idiotic circle, 
Trying to kill the joy, not knowing
We don't care about his false Harvard WAY
I rather stay here dropping out, than pretending
Following his made-up perception, a cropped out waste
His taste, my best copypaste, he jacked on
A stench, they left behind when open mouths laugh
He educates by attacking women better than his own
Silently to the top of his knife, he stalks nakedly
Removing a few poems he plagiarized
His Poorness, brought many to donate to the salvation of his army
Sadness Delivered by the Joy Killing Poet and his little pigs

Cross My heart and hope to die!!!

~SKAT~
© Skat A   Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member The Killing of One Hundred and Fifty Million Years

another typical day, with feet on the ground
  ordering the hedge to meet my image of trim
  many measured bits fall before the cutting edge
  casual thoughts detach, is there anybody in ?

  then some mental inner disturbance jangles
  with corresponding jig, nerves rip in deeper
  following the run of a stalk, the hang of a sprig
  so prune the untidy and unwelcome creeper

  a movement to the side of my eye is caught
  something is scared, behind dense vegetation
  the fast beating breast of a baby brown bird
  a frantic flutter and then much aggravation

  descends to the pavement in fear driven escape
  panic ruptures in flood, under a half sliced-off wing
  chest partly open, feathers flecked red with blood
  cupped warm in my hand, young life does cling

  grim realisation, fledgling with no hope
  pressure leaking, ebbing from a dying heart
  but then our eyes meet, answers it is seeking
  'where's my mum, when can my flying lessons start?'

  the deed is now done, the light that shone has gone out
  just the salt of my tears at this horrible juncture
  the killing of one hundred and fifty million years
  and this clumsy ape's evolutionary puncture

  undiluted guilt, too much concentration to bear
  to forgive and assuage, soothing rational thought
  replacement anger and even more depressing rage
  bombs target children when careless wars are fought

  imagine that child, in screaming terrified terror
  in mortal trouble, reduced to core instinct base
  an external world has turned your home into rubble
  'where's my mum, why can't I see her familiar face?'
© Ian Love  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Kissing For the Killing of Can'T -

Destinies departing from one another
like memories falling asleep as new experience births the extremes of Eternity,
striding past ourselves with fingers extended wildly
trying terribly to grab hold of knuckles with certainty buckling
as disbelief transforms into the unloving knowledge of impossibility,

in a recess of rules we defy the momentum of the Game's gravity
praying not with confusion in our eyes but for pardon of our happy prank,
we have laughter within the drums of our souls,

placing my thumb onto the corner of her mouth
getting closer to her voice,
kissing my Spartan girl
as though she were a secret sunset balancing just for me,
not knowing if I'll ever have another,
kissing just for the sake of kissing her,
kissing for the hatred of heartache, for the heroics of Hope,
kissing while betraying Time's insults of hurriedness -

J.A.B.


Why Do We Keep Killing Each Other

I have become the tree, perched on a limb,
Bow in hand, camouflaged grey, black, and brown.
Looking with my eyes, not moving my brim,
Detecting movement, the forest slows down.

Suddenly, a flicker of ear and tail,
Flashes in the sun entering my view.
Deer browsing, eyes darting, heads bob, ears flail,
Squirrel climbs near, my position askew.

Chattering loudly, bushy tail thrashing,
Alerting of danger for all to hear. 
Blue jay flies in and joins with jeers lashing,
Deer, with a flick of the flag, disappear.

Why can't humans communicate so well,
Spanning differences, on earth where we dwell?

10/11/2017

Killing Me Softly

You come home late agian another time.
Smelling like cheap perfume and cheap red wine.
You caress my cheek with touches so soft.
Touching my shirt, slowly taking it off.

It isn't the first time you have done this.
Always coming home, face full of bliss.
I know what your doing, your touches are toxic.
But I love you so much, I feel helpless to stop it.

To be second rate, and feeling your fake passion.
Your killing me softly, your my hearts assassin.
This is all you want whenever you come home.
You get what you want, then leave me alone.

I just want you to love me like I do you.
But I'm in denial, as it wont come true.
You finally stop, but your too drunk to see.
All my tears that refuse to leave me.

You turn the other way, and go to bed.
No words uddered, nothing was said.
Apparently my soal, to you, isn't so caustly.
Because even you know your killing me softly.

Premium Member Killing Me Softly

I am a duck, call me deep throat
You are killing me softly
With the food I must devour
I am a seal
You invited me to a club
And you killed me softly
I am a heifer
You will kill me softly too
You will coral me, of this I am sure
I am a pig
And for this you will kill me
Softly I am not so sure
You may even call me Canadian!
Don’t forget me!! I am a chicken
My crime was crossing the road!!!
And now you eat me!!!!
Now you humans will prepare your feasts
Fry us all to feed your desires
Please let’s not forget the salt for old wounds
Ah
We will kill you softly
Revenge is sugary sweet


Killing My Other Me

I'm contemplating killing my other me,
The one who fronts for the five figure manager at Ruby Tuesday for a job,
Struggling to tie loose ends, so my ends don't meet.
Strangers they are, Me and I, I and Me,
And there is a sharp turn ahead, 
So I can't see our future.
Contemplating offing that sucka!
An actor, he can accurately depict whatever you want him to,
A puppet for a crowd full of the wealthy and snobby,
And I, the weak minded puppeteer of financial slavery?
Broke brotha representa?
Am real.
Seriously contemplating killing my other me,
I mean getting him good for all the eggshells he left in the batter,
There's no way I'm getting cake!
I mean the ladies would dig I,
Maybe even marry a brotha, but me?
This dude falls back and plays chill for no reason,
While the girls are just teasing, begging me please come see!
He tries to wait, and play it smart, but the game ends before he begins...
I'm contemplating killing my other me,
He has no purpose, no drive, stuck on the side of life's highway with his hazards on,
Dormant, while my friends pass by,
I have no clue where I'm going, 
But I sit in the passenger seat while this fool puts nowhere in the GPS,
Stressed because I am me and he seems confident in us...
I trust the untrustworthy with my most valued possession,
Life.
So death should come to me...
And it will when i sense the urge to kill, 
But for now...
I'm just contemplating killing my other me.

Premium Member Killing Me Softly

Splitting straws reveal tears of unfair truth 
long and short of it bugs with ugly voices swear
Finding you are under the carpet 
hiding inside echoes disturbing peace 

The breaking point makes a stand rightly silence 
shattering glass on the surface breaks code 
Mirrored reflection flashbacks past repeating sins 
Playing the same old downer breaking feelings 

Rewinding backwards sorry does not get it anymore 
That shows a moon's face upside down frowning
Thanking the lucky stars above
in destinies quest unfolding 

We all know our soul purpose love remains true 
there we see the snake that holds chains hurt
Legion of cold icy rain runs down the cheeks 
demon your breath touches deep a fired memory
 
Torturing a body heart and mind aches with grief
Loveless my eyes just swam away lost direction 
Caught drifting on cloud nine of your breath 
frozen particles remain completely cold 
spawning new direction forward and out

"killing Under the Cloak of Murder Is No Different Than Murder"

When you fall into slumber on the pavement
Or 
When you wake up at another's

Prevent me from suffocating
In the heat of delight
Delight cant be real
when your behind it all
Because its you behind it all

Or slip into the light
fish me some rainbows
That fade when you bring it back
Because i live in the dark
I live in the dark

Don't take your murderer for granted






-Title quote by Albert Einstein

Killing Ants

Ants are known to be industrious,
Bustling about the anthill
In lines and arcs and freeform patterns,
Intent on some important insect mission,
Minding their own business, thank you.

Of course, sometimes ants have to be exterminated
If they’re likely to bite a small child,
Or interrupting the flow of one’s flower bed,
Or just plain in the way.

After all, they’re only bugs,
Small and inconsequential and expendable.

Occasionally, small rough and tumble boys,
Full of bravado and challenging each other,
Will desecrate an anthill recklessly
Just for sport…
And to see the ants run frantically
In response to the destruction of their entire world
At the whim of a dirty-sneakered foot.

They look so small from up above
Scurrying about like ants
Tiny and insignificant  from the height
Of a skyscraper, or a ski lift,
Or the windshield of a fighter pilot’s plane.
Tiny, and in the way
Because, as we all know,
Sometimes ants have to be exterminated.

The Call

Oh, who do you call,
My beautiful one?

Rising in iridescent splendor
In the dark side of light against the creeping dawn.

A mourning cry to follow ere the heat of day,
Dries up the velvet feathered throats of longing.

A reddened eye of patience waits and watches;
Awash in tall grass, brown eyes blink
Then more as fear leaps to flight in graceful bounds.

But a muscular coat of dusty fur and the ruby spray of death
Insures another day of life and an all too ready hunger.
© Jean Bush  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Least We Forget the Girls' Killing Cry: Apropos the Boko Aaram Girls

LEAST WE FORGET THE GIRLS’ KILLING CRY
(Apropos The Boko Haram Girls)

                i
We no longer hear
the screams of the young girls
nor the whimpering
of their little brothers—
nor the echoes of falling tears
of grieving widowed mothers
and the muffled hush, hush, hush
to new born babes.

How much longer
must we awake
to another morning
we wished we never lived to see? 

Mornings where
the horizon’s plains
are dotted with earthen keloids
of humpbacked graves
in overpopulated makeshift cemeteries 
where food crops once grew.
Horizons reminiscent of 
the screaming echoes animating
from departing Middle Passage ships.
  
                          

                  ii
How much longer
must we experience nights
of damned deranged dads—brothers
roaming, ravaging, raping
sisters and slitting mothers’ throats;  
damned deranged dads—brothers  
driven by a demonized illusion
of the Nile goddess of fertility;
intoxicating themselves
with chalices of their families’ blood?
How much longer?!!!

How much longer 
must our daughters remain
forgotten victims
Of those who’ve lost the free
in freedom—like those who’ve sold the in
in independence—lackeys 
to and of ancient slave masters
who’ve learned well 
the western ways of deception?

                    iii
Unmoved and no longer
grievously concerned,
the world mesmerizes itself
with a deceived sacrilege image
of a revered Nile goddess.
Meanwhile, defiled bodies
of African girls
are no longer newsworthy…
these wretched of the earth sisters
continue to suffer ethnocentric
rape and gendercide: perpetuations
of free roaming…hoodwinked brethren,
inebriated with neo-colonial genocide.

The Killing Tree Part 2

Here is part two, thanks for finishing it

Still in his hand his sword a shining
Struck quickly through the tendrils twining
To free his foot with speed a blinding

He fell upon the ground and leapt
beyond the branches' claw
Grabbed from his waist the pouch that kept
his magic ring to draw

So placed around his finger long
The nether world he breached
With power from a heart that's strong
to Lilith's form he reached

That's when he saw her body glowing
the holy light his eyes to showing
The weakness in the branches blowing

For within the tree he saw the face
a mask alive with dread
And swung his sword to strike that place
and sever off its head

Its eerie scream cut through the night 
a most unholy sound
And in its haste to join the fight
dropped Lilith to the ground

So through the night the battle staging
As in a dance his war was waging
'gainst evil now his sword was raging

Now evil's strength is in the dark
and weakens with the sun
The trees retreat into the park 
soon broke into a run

The stranger leapt into its path
to make it stand and fight
The tree screamed out its mighty wrath
to see the morning light

By light of dawn its spell was breaking
Into the earth its roots were taking
A mortal tree the stranger making

Now death came to the tree that morn'
a triumph over fear
But children heed this tale to warn 
that evil's always near

For Lilith and the stranger won
because their hearts were true
Would they have seen the morning sun
if either had been you

So go to bed your faith a keeping
and know that evil out there creeping
won't come to you while you are sleeping

Premium Member Be Killing Sin Or Sin Will Be Killing You - Proverbs 25: 28

Please let me speak about the heart
indeed the heart of all our aches
where our problems are to be found
so important to know for our sakes

God clearly wants us to know self-control
with His wisdom to exercise His will
for without self-control, one's left broken
helpless and hopeless just being still

Imagine a man with no self-control
like a city broken without any wall
open to every wind of teaching
allowing sin to have the last call

Learn well the words of John Owen
the great English puritan in the past
'be killing sin' for its a poison
to damage your soul to the last

So deal with your sin
or, 'sin will be killing you'
wise words that need obeyed
coming to God saying I do

('Be killing sin or sin will be killing you' - John Owen, English puritan minister (1616-1683)

"A man without self-control
    is like a city broken into and left without walls")
Proverbs 25: 28 (ESV).

A I is killing creativity

if its not written from the heart or soul then chances are it's a i

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