Best Maiming Poems
Look how they fall like angels to the earth!
But no soft landing down amongst those rocks.
Those devils on the bridge with gleeful mirth
Terrorised the townsfolk as wolves do flocks
Of sheep at lambing time. For all their worth,
They searched shuttered houses and smashed the locks
Of any door, they could not open wide,
Dragged out the frightened men hiding inside
Battered them senseless to the dusty ground
In gutters, awash with their comrades’ blood
Each in their own vomit and bile half-drowned.
They lay gasping like fish stranded on mud.
The narrow streets echoing with the sound
Of their screaming and each rifle-butt’s thud.
My God, who are these beasts in human form
Whose hearts the desert sun could never warm?
They are Francisco Franco’s native troops,
Moroccan Regulares, so I’m told.
Free to rape and kill, they are the first groups
Into attack. Completely uncontrolled,
Each Regulare picks his prey and swoops
Raping, maiming, and killing young or old.
Just the threat of unleashing these fierce hawks
Compels Comrade Republicans to talks.
Categories:
maiming, conflict, death, history, horror,
Form:
Ottava rima
Years have passed since i dreamt that night
Noises in my head, waking up to that sight
Overnight my city in desperate plight
Tragedies followed as the population began to fade
The strong wallowed, as the weak frayed
Mankind shown to be true, as their actions displayed
I found i was not alone, as others had escaped the curse
Their actions that i witnessed, man doing his worst
Abusing, taking advantage in their normal daily thirst
The ones who lost their eyes, never seen their end come
Even the deafened ones, never heard the sound of a gun
The muted ones just gaped, as they all tried to run
The fortunate ones had prayed, on the inflicted souls in strife
Targeting the weak, playing with their lives
The killings and the maiming in typical murderous rife
Eventually the fortunate, wanted more and more
They fought amongst themselves just like they did before
Everyday i look all around me, forever will i abhor
I walk our cities and towns, thinking what they used to be
The hustle and bustle of life, in the world of you and me
One day i will go to sleep, when i awake what will i see
The follow up too " It Will Happen Tomorrow "
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/fantasy-6.php
Categories:
maiming, angst, confusion, death, life,
Form:
Rhyme
maiming the dragon
the trickle with a tickle ~
soul trepanation
***
Categories:
maiming, abuse, pain,
Form:
Senryu
Here come the lions, tigers and bears, oh, my.
I get closer to my mate, feeling we’ll die.
What was this family thinking? Was he sick in the head?
Why was his wife walking around, no fear of being dead?
My mate smiled at me. It is more than okay, he said.
I have a good feeling that we’ll be safe and well fed.
We were in this creaky leaky thing for many cycles of the moon
And the lions, tigers, and bears all stayed on their side of the room.
There was a magical feeling about these days, for sure.
Every animal was quiet, silent, in awe, feeling pure.
The birds fluttered around and twitted and twilled.
This boat ride was a mission by God, fully filled.
We were in shock when we landed one day with a bump
All exited without a maiming or killing, no one did jump.
The oddest most cosmic time in the world, if you ask me
When all animals were quiet, and let others be.
Categories:
maiming, animal, bible,
Form:
Rhyme
Ragged and funny
In dire need of money
I bruise the pot-holed streets of the city
Maiming the waste-filled alleys and dirty
Daily I play hide and seek with death on the razor-sharp edge of humanity.
Once I had a home
Now I cannot pay the dues
Once I went to college
Now I cannot pay the fees
Once I had a wife
Now I cannot afford the price
Poor the result of no economic emancipation
Bound to the street because of some people's creation
In a vacuum-filled belly I try the robber's invention
Oouch! I cry in incaceration
This cry , my cry, I cry
Bound to the street, is it God's case
Bound to the street, the street my place
Bound to the street, the street I hate
Eyes closed, tears drop
The drama of my sleeping mystery
unfolding before my mental eyes like a tapestry
I ravish and languish in hunger
Feeding on left-overs
Left by generous shoppers
Hungry I was, am and still will be
The history but of themhitherto societies is a history of class struggle
and exploitation. How shall I leave the street struggle
In such a society tailor-designed to suffer the helpless
Where the should-be-helpers
Are the pioneers of the exploitation,
Suppression and oppression of the defenceless
As for me and my street-mates
We will travel along singing a song
The song, my cry.
Bound to the street, is it God's case
Bound to the street, the street my place
Bound to the street, the street I hate
I come from far further
I am not a bird of your further
You are a son to your father
You are your mother's daughter
I have non to call father or mother
Neither to call sister nor brother
But pay no attention to criticism like weather
Rather lets read the holy book together
Ang gather as a congregation together
The bread as you gather
Lets break share and eat together.
Until we harness a new philosophy
I will always cry
This cry my cry.
Bound to the street, is it God's case
Bound to the street, the street my place
Bound to the street, the street I hate
Categories:
maiming, depression, sad, son, song-cry,
Form:
Blank verse
you're somewhere dreaming, breathing, walking still
and in the world of living you reside
in hurting and in maiming is your thrill
you will not let the pain and grief subside
somewhere in this old world you have a place
your do your daily tasks and visit friends
there is no trail to find you, not a trace
yet poison cloud of hate on you descends
you live oblivious to heinous crime
the rape and plunder of a trusting heart
on satin sheets you left your putrid grime
mixed with my blood that flowed from poison dart
So to my heart you're dead and buried deep
My tears have crusted dry; I cannot weep
Eileen Manassian Ghali
Categories:
maiming, angst, grief, hate,
Form:
Sonnet
All human life on earth starts in a school!
In my case I was born just left of hell
It was a simple time but not that cool
This hell was time spent in a hot jail cell
I went and suffered on my own through it
Hell was about soul survival, not strange
Hell did have this one thing going for it
It was a time in my life of great change
Basic painful change is all I could see
I think it could be the fire burning part
In a way this was maybe good for me
We all hate to change and make a restart
Again, I think it’s the fire burning thing
But Phoenix had more surprises to bring
My small world became a much bigger space
This was the time I discovered schoolgirls
a Schoolgirl did not have a woman’s grace
but newly discovered power that twirls
Almost like a boy with a BB gun
Unfortunately I felt their focus
Maiming with no regard and just for fun
Resisting their girl power was hopeless
This dangerous girl behavior left boys,
hormone affected and with fearful scars
They did not realize feminine poise,
and their girly ways left boys seeing stars
Boys were toys and fun for a single day
They polarized boys closer or away
Schoolgirls had developed body buffet
I was drawn to this newfound girl candy,
in n moth-flame kind of a fateful way,
forced to band aid rip my eyes off Sandy
Speaking; walls of China to overcome
Yet I needed to open my Colgate,
but words got stuck in my boy bubble gum
With corporal punishment a pain fate,
we did not question we just noticed breasts
This obsession became a migration,
but teachers had this thing with passing tests
This interfered with my destination
Burning in girls flame game a man collected
They Phoenix-ed the man my wife selected
Categories:
maiming, girl, school,
Form:
Narrative
Humpback beauties call to their young
Communicating to calves so precious
Don't be so immediately audacious
You can wander, just don't go too long
Blubberous parents are there to keep them close
For companionship, warmth and learning
Send each other many signals, the little one is yearning
Because of the ocean they want to make the most
Eating their fill of plankton and krill
The smaller babe makes a hydro sonic point
To the older one who loves this oceanic joint
He doesn't want to hurt or kill
The humans who eavesdrop on their descant
Like some other whales with mammoth choppers
Accidentally maiming overboard fishermen and surfers
These watery wonders are appreciated that's all they ever want
Imbibing benevolent attention only for half a century
Deep sea divers first decided to bring down equipment
When he spoke his special song, they had no idea what the male bull meant
That day being approached he was so hesitant and on sentry
Because whalers before had waited for them to breach
The surface for mere minutes finding some oxygen
Finding instead a foreboding air of danger without question
So reclusive they remain, staying out of reach
Beaching is another danger when whales will cry
For help they so need it and must be rolled back out
A benign thing on sand dangerously sprawled about
Back into the depths it should be before it go dry
Nature's biggest mammals can never be at rest
In the wild and bountiful marine, using fluked tales to swim around
Whales have a lot to say, their stories abound
In civilized society with whale translators today we are at our best
Making compact discs of them, something special we can keep
The arias of the ocean composed of many shores
Whales speak responding in the ripples as prophets do with lore
It works quite well for some, to lull ourselves to sleep
We should always stay in assonance.
Categories:
maiming, sea, ocean,
Form:
Free verse
Watch me with my head held high
A smile on my face
Even if tears are in my eyes
People come at me like organized crime
And I'm brought near to my knees, time after time.
Constantly maiming, consistently shaming
Me, needing to be strong, always escaping.
Now that's done.
No longer will I run
From all of you who hurt me
And shamed me
And used me
FORBADE me.
I will stand strong on mine own ground
And all of you, you who hold me back, will no longer be around.
I will conquer you all with my smile wide, standing proud.
Hear my war cry!
I refuse to die.
Pay attention to the glint in my eyes
Because at that point it's too late for you to realize
That the fire you tried to burn me with has turned against you
And you'll go down in the flames.
May the world know my name!
Or, if nothing else, let them remember how I went out in a glorious blaze
Of succeeding despite those who sought only to bring me shame.
Categories:
maiming, beauty, conflict, courage, fire,
Form:
Free verse
Cajole me in the right frame of mind
For I'm vexed not because of
Personal issues but because of the
Morbid, abstract canvas of life
I'm subjected to witness, where
Groups of so-called righteous men
Drop indiscriminate bombs
On fellow humans ripping
Homes and families apart
Shedding the blood of the innocent
Then simply labeling it
Collateral damage -
Collateral damage of War
Shelling babies... collateral
Damage of war!
Then pluck out thine eyes
With two bold fingers
For I cannot bear witness
To the dislodging of families
Fleeing wildly wherever
The cold wind blows
Crossing rough seas
None with the ability of
Jesus to walk on water
Nor faith to part it like Moses
Water ...swilling with red blood
And saline stinging tears
Mothers wailing bearing
The agony in suffering
Petrified twisted faces pressed
To their wet bosoms
Fathers gnashing teeth,
Raging, panting, feeling
Like a poltroon
Powerless. Gray skies depicts
No rainbow, no promise.
Strike me down
I refuse to bear witness
Beseeching before I meet my demise,
Obliterate borders, these
Man made borders
Us with our Jingoistic attitude
Jingoistic ... flag waving
Entitlement ... displaying
Utmost xenophobia
The mantra mocking
Go home, go home, go
Home - face your fate
On your homeland soil
Drenched and soaked in blood.
I shiver terrifically in my skin
What if it was me ... you
In those weathered skin
Under the moon and stars
Branded a refugee, worthless
Vulnerable, famished, weak
Motivated by hope to
Overcome barriers and borders
And when pruned fleshed
Feet imprint the coarse sand
There's no child in hand
Swallowed up by the gluttonous sea
Let hell's bells drone on
When dastardly Superpowers drop
Nasty bombs on the innocent
Butchering, maiming ... moribund
Then labeling it collateral damage
Cajole me in the right frame of mind
For I will go stark raving mad.
© 2015 Denise Morgan
Categories:
maiming, children, innocence, political, war,
Form:
Prose
Ignorant Madness
I thought initially and first my worst fear is fear of fear
that is too global though and I hold dear the fear quite near
misguided far on global planet humankind removed from sanity
with ignorance and fighting firing greed destruction vanity
This morning I woke up to UK Brexit xenophobia social exclusion
and am afraid of nationalism egotism and infused perfusion
of hatred mongering of warfare propaganda into mindless mind
when harmony and peace togetherness cohesion would be kind
Compassionate and loving sharing compromising stance solutions
on cooperation refuges disaster poverty are better contributions
to equal chances on the planet kindness love and loving kindness
rather than deluded independences of ‘us and othering’ blindness
My anxiety and fears stem from history crusading slaughter
with crosses skeletons marching fascists many poppy fields to water
On every TV screen we cannot fail to notice killing for no reason
bleeding hungry marginalized annihilation genocidal treason
I fear more wars on the horizon bloodshed fused insanity the maiming
of humans peoples nations countries dignity when inhumanity needs taming
First prize to fear of wars destroying Universe my children and what could be
so beautiful if we would feel could reason use some empathy and see…
Categories:
maiming, war, universe,
Form:
Rhyme
Run rhino run, just like cousin cheater
Cheat on them
They are coming again ,now it’s against
Like brother lion fight back
Their stories are made, maiming your horn
They have been there in Bukavu and left it dry
They have been in Bujumbura, left it bloody
Run my rhino run; give them a run of their money
Run rhino run, don’t fight on their folly, just run
Run to the deep forest of Mayombe, straight to
Let them not catch you, kill you, evil
Fight to the core of you skill
Defend your skin
Run to the hut of MADIBA
Hide your horns
Remove them before you perish,
Listen it’s a fight not against you
It’s a fight against me,
I am your shepherd
I cry all the time, their
Bullets designed to eliminate you, my flock
Run rhino run, quick to me, refuge
Fight not evil by evil
Fight not greed by lies
Just run and live,
If you can fly high into the heavens of gods
Run rhino, you can run, quicker than their arsenal
The visas said kill not,
Their passport said you are none
The licenses said kill the shepherd
Spare not the sheep
Run rhino run,
Find me at the corner
Hold me, strong majesty
Categories:
maiming, africa, anger, animal, caregiving,
Form:
Prose
You act like you’re all that -
gaining green when you rap,
but I say lines of utter crap
come from your verbal flap.
You lack and I can back that.
My slapjack, whapping facts
would not be rinsed with tact
since odds are a massive stack
of my fly responses so snap
they’ll waste yours to scrap.
You’ll bleed a need for a map
just to sense our distance gap.
I could secure a win wrap
in the deep sleep of a nap
with word whirls of pure blur
punching, crushing your rap,
maiming your able so unstable
it’s incapable to react transact
any how to track your ego back.
My hit of truth would impact
and sack your rap so abstract
that my heard word redact
would squish lisp yours compact,
then subtract, detract, refract
and ransack precisely exact
the trash you call a talent act.
So, go! Sate-debate my rap trait.
Nick Trim's 8 Mile Style Poetry Contest
March 16, 2018
Categories:
maiming, confidence, culture, funny, rap,
Form:
Rhyme
A hiding place, a warm and darkened room,
A lit doorway, bright against the dark,
Cold against the warmth, a frame for odd
Assorted stranger-forms whose faces loom
As quarrels over (what?) convulse and rend them,
Leering laughter giving in to vicious
Sneers, bared fangs, silent snarls
Of wretched, clutching, atavistic mayhem,
A terror once removed. Inside that hole
Distant from the proximal horrid window
Where twisted evil shadow-puppets fight
Peculiar faint amusement seems to roll
Like waves around the cave, detached and born
Of safety via distance, of certainty
That out would never be in, that warmth was safe,
That war above, so far away, forlorn,
Could be watched as from a languid seat
Far recessed in a darkened empty theater,
Nestled snugly, listening to the voice
Which comments on the raging battle heat.
From somewhere up, behind, not left nor right,
But from the center, voice and fight both
Directly sensed, as if they each occurred
In a vacuum, touch and smell, sound and sight
Being interchangeable and void.
The fighters jab and poke, madly gouge,
And neither gains advantage, being justly
Matched, as both are faceless, the man
At left pitted fair against the shrewish
Plot of his opponent, evil woman.
Both in turn appeal for judgment, turning
Away from fighting to glare and wave and hiss
Silently for a verdict on the ghastly driven
Feud which now has stopped, as it began,
Abruptly, and receiving none, for in
The silence no answer can be given
(Besides which, being taken by surprise
And overcome by sudden fear, aware
Of change in circumstance) the watcher is mute,
The murderous woman lunges at his very eyes
In deadly assault, bent on maiming, killing,
Groping fiercely at his open throat
For no apparent reason; and the comfort
Of the soothing voice utterly halts.
Words without sound fly like spears between them
Accusatory fingers gesture madly
And spittle from their half-crazed livid mouths
Wings through air in visual acid anthem
To this grisly deadly tandem fight
That seems the worse being set in relief
By the rectangular hole that serves as both
Window and door, divider of dark and light,
No protection, as threshold battle threatens
Him within, as blind hatred rages
In deft slashes of lengthy fingernails
While foe from foe extracts macabre debt.
Categories:
maiming, dream, imagery, psychological,
Form:
Iambic Pentameter
Limerick : Once slick Senorita from Sevilla – 6
Once slick Senorita from Sevilla
Watched proud Toro shamed by faena*
So she lured Picador
Behind her unlocked door
And gored him till he split on his Pica.
• faena : the manœuvres with the cape
the toro is subjected to by the matador
after the maiming of the magnificent beast
by the picador
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2013
Categories:
maiming, character,
Form:
Limerick