Best Murderous Poems
NARRATOR
Infatuation, mysterious,
Must possess
A hello will be good, an offer
Of a drink,
And here comes the invite,
Does it lead to a casual, or
Lengthy good night
HIM
My furniture's sparse
I have a desk and books,
I hung clean tea towels on
The kitchen hooks.
I have a chair and a cat,
Time to go forward
No more chit chat.
I have wine in the fridge
And two glasses at the ready,
Must remember
To keep my hand steady,
O forgot, also have a wife,
Who I promised to be faithful to
For the rest of my double life.
But full steam ahead,
Yes, still in my pocket
I’ll put it back on
after this evening’s affair
I’m excited, I’ll avoid
Her terrified stare.
NARRATOR
This sleazy professor
Had succeeded in
His dirty deeds
Three times before,
Would he succeed again,
And leave another stain,
A memento on his floor
At his secret flat,
By the front door.
HER
Wanted to pass her first
Year at university,
Noticed he was glib,
Certainly, no novice,
But would entice
Him to promise.
Too quickly did he offer
An exemplary exam mark,
She somehow felt
Things were off track,
Saw a murderous
Glint In his eye,
He was of slight build,
She noticed his hand
And the knife and rope,
Dug her sharp nails
In his neck,
Alarmed and hurt
He hesitated, she pushed
Him and ran to the door,
Tripped and moved a
Carpet which hid blood stains,
She put her hands to her ears
To block out the screams,
Pain and fears,
In her mind,
She would make sure they find,
this evil man,
I will destroy him,
I can,
Fled down a flight of stairs
Into a busy street,
Where she mingled
With thousands of feet.
NARRATOR
Too late too late
Bad guy,
For this you will fry,
And burn in hell,
Where are the
Other bodies,
Now all you will
Spill, and
Have to tell.
With one glance of her eyes you would turn to stone
her icy glare would chill to the bone
i talk about our Arabic teacher
a vile and very nasty creature
a shot in the head is not enough
for that creature is very tough
i would love to slit her throat with a knife
or maybe cut of her head with a scythe
a sprinkle of cyanide in her morning drink
or throw her in tar and watch her sink
booby trap her chair ,so it would explode
tie her to a car and drag her down the road
put her in a guillotine and chop of her head
stab her with a dagger and watch as she bled
put a bomb in her house and reduce it to ash
cut the brakes on her car so she would hit and crash
drive a stake through her heart and burn her with fire
get her assassinated by soldiers for hire
put a rope around her neck , and push her off a tower
throw acid at her in a hailing shower
maybe silver bullets from a silver gun
dip her in oil and into the sun
but nothing will work from what i have said
because you cant kill something that's already undead
BY: Mostafa Zaki
I decided he had to die,
So held on and swung from his tie.
But the blooming tie ripped,
And my victim just flipped:
I’m banned from his shop; don’t know why…
Jack Horne for Susan's contest
Cheated on her three times, said it was her reluctance to marry
Each time she took him back, finally on her finger his ring she’d carry
But even as she wore it, her fickle lover cheated again
She threw the chintzy ring at him -- cheap zirconium
Knowing he had a gun in his car, stealthily she had to act
Purchased a container filled with gas, a lighter in her pocket packed
Drove to his neighborhood, parked down the street in a wooded lot
Saw them making love through the window, her stomach tied in a knot
Suddenly it occurred to her that her own life would be jeopardized
Knowing she would be denied heaven, her fear was energized
She threw the oil can away, made haste to a nearby church
Praying aloud, she asked for guidance as on the pew she perched
Contrite as always, seeking sympathy, next day he appeared at her door
But instead of a man she saw a beast, in flames his soul would rest evermore
Justice has a way of coming about; her murderous thoughts had vanished
But from her life this pathetic loser would forever be banished
*Entry for Susan’s “Getting Away with Murder/Murderous Thoughts”
By Carolyn Devonshire, October 4, 2011
La la la, la-la-la, laaa-la!
La la la, la-la-la, laaa-la!
SO THE KITTY SAID TO ME,
MEOW MEEOW MEOW MEOW MEOW MEOW.
SHE SAID TIME TO FEED ME,
MEOOOWWWWOOOO.
MEOW MEOOWWW MEOW MEOW MEOW MEOW MEOW,
LIKE THAT OF A BANSHEE.
MEOW MEOOWWW MEOW MEOW MEOW MEOW MEOW,
SHE CALLS OUT TO ME.
MEOW MEOOWWW MEOW MEOW MEOW MEOW MEOW,
SCRATCHING AT THE DOOR.
MEOW MEOOWWW MEOW MEOW MEOW MEOW MEOW,
SHE DEMANDS FOR MORE.
UPON THE WINDOW SILL,
MEOW MEEOW MEOW MEEOW MEEOW!
SHE SAID CHASE ME STILL,
MEOOOWWWWOOOO, WILD AND PROUD.
here kitty kitty kitty
pretty pretty princess
here kitty kitty kitty
pretty pretty princess
(kitty)
Laaaaa, la-la-laaaa, laaaa laaa!
Wooohhh-laaa, laaa-la-laaaa!
MEOW MEOOWWW MEOW MEOW MEOW MEOW MEOW,
SCRATCHING AT THE DOOR.
MEOW MEOOWWW MEOW MEOW MEOW MEOW MEOW,
SHE DEMANDS FOR MORE.
MEOW MEOOWWW MEOW MEOW MEOW MEOW MEOW,
THE KITTY QUEEN OF NIGHT.
MEOW MEOOWWW MEOW MEOW MEOW MEOW MEOW,
HER VOICE A BANSHEE’S CRY.
Laaaaa, la-la-laaaa, laaaa laaa!
Wooohhh-laaa, laaa-la-laaaa!
i watch her as she brights up my bedroom
wit her skin
hair drops down her back looking like a
waterfall over da morning sun
she lands on top of me brushing her
eyelashes on my neck
im frozen,as she pierce my heart wit the
sword of love
i bleed internally the feel for her
as i am stabbed in the heart my heart beat
faster
i am now a dynamite of love waiting 2
explode my feelings 2 her
KABOOM!!!as my love filled the room
tears from her face run like Mississippi
man,what a murderous love
Murderous Sprees...
sinister Population Control, Sans Cosmic Creator?
Maybe,... I shudder to think
up the sleeve and ornate cufflink
of divine maker, a deliberate pitch
to foist *****sapien on brink
viz self destruction,
asper bedlam upon Earth that doth stink
a hellish conspiracy linkedin with tragedy
namely sinister predestined plan to shrink
terrestrial realm usurped by ink
king a pact of devilish destruction, demolition
denunciation, et cetera doth stoke
unslakable thirst of bloody drink
sucked out the flesh o' every body electric
as zombies and vampires quench
fifty plus shades of deep pink
drain liquid of life courtesy of chosen thugs
incognito golem aliens to kill and sink
civilization, until every person extinct
cold comfort (from this Yankee of mortal fate
lifelong resident of Keystone state),
one day extraterrestrials, (whom might
inhabit planet teeming with billions)
will excavate and then curate
a sorry lot of creatures, where bullets did eliminate
an arrogant, haughty, narcissistic...peoples
(a handful of exceptions to the contrary),
whose various tribes never adapted to integrate
sundry superficial differences among themselves
instead chose to allow, enable and provide
(Putin shill) collusion did willingly corroborate
with dopplegangers i.e. "FAKE" guardians
whose real not so impossible mission
to feign friendship, at heart..a pie rate
but sole outlook to eradicate
coercive, self immersive,
passive, et cetera species
and blithely earn blind trust, unwittingly mutate
into their likeness only to trump
pet gentlemen's agreement brittleness did break
as "FAKE" and devastate
democratic and constitutional compact
(utilizing bribery to swindle elite schools
so crazy rich parents could manipulate
levers of prestigious academia) to satiate
egos bragging about brilliant offspring
only to undermine the complex edifice
spoiling promising futures via golden gate
bridge of studious grads,
who exercised sweat o' their pate.
A garden of lust, a magical dust
the wizdom of wizards, with just a touch...
Roses are red canaries are yellow
a mushroom boat in a sea of jello...
fields of magic that grow with imagine
a whole new world like my name was Aladdin...
Tasty and pasty with so much wonder
marshmallow dreams, the hunger im under...
So many flowers, so many colors
beautiful showers, beautiful lovers...
Given wings to search new dreams
borderline heaven, it is what it seems...
I fly in the garden's that are built like tower's
and eat the plants that give me the power...
Airplane trips to a fantasy so erratic
but some of the flowers are not so magic...
My plane has gone down, not found to be saved
now the only flowers i see, are the ones on my grave.
War I hate, though not men, flags nor race,
But war itself with its ugly face.
When we lose faith in the brave which die,
Then we're not fit to greet those who cry.
What distinguishes war isn't death,
But that man is slain by fellow man.
Crushed by cruelty and injustice,
With his enemy's murderous hand.
War tends to punish the punishers,
So the losers won't suffer alone.
The essence of war is but violence,
Till the survivors come marching home.
Murderous Laughter
From world famous violinist to a murderer was the headline of our newspaper.
I knew the man a musical genius but so shy he only made recordings and appeared
on radio. You never get famous unless people see you in the flesh so magazines
can publish a picture of you shaking hands with politicians and see the blessed one
with movie stars, he was persuaded to give a life concert. The hall was full as he
entered the stage applause broke this was a highlight, no doubt a musical genius.
As his music filled hearts with the immense beauty, he became taller and his
trousers fell to his ankles. Dead silence, then nervous giggles that ended with
hysterical laughter from his audience who could not stop laughing, concert over.
He went to live in Alentejo in Portugal; no one knew him, got a job as a shepherd,
had a room next to the sheep, but took his meals in the kitchen. One day a tourist on
a walking holiday came to the small farm asked direction looked at the violinist and
said:” you are the one who lost his trouser on the stage.” The tourist told the story
of this to the farmer and his wife and the all laughed, dogs, cats and the mouse
in the corner. The musician got up went to the barn picked up a pitchfork and stabbed
the poor tourist to death and, at last, the laughter stopped.
I am a man with a plan,
A murderous heart,
I plan to rip out,
My x-wife's heart,
I'm going drive her to madness,
And bring complete sadness,
By involving people she thinks,
Are her friends,
Me and my family have agreed,
To do this ungodly deed,
We don't believe we'll get caught,
No one relizes our murderous hearts,
We are shallow and ruthless,
And money grubbing shabbness,
The tackiest of all,
Romes our halls,
We're going to make her loose everything,
Especially her kids that she loves so much,
The first one to go,
Is her daughter we just know,
How much it's going to demolish her,
And when we are done,
We'll steal her son,
And seperate her from the other daughter,
I don't like the fact that I had,
To pay her child-support,
I've got lifeinsurance,
And I plan to get it all back,
I'm the meanest man,
With the most cynical plan,
For revenge on the woman,
I never got over,
I never let go,
And I'm going to show her,
That I can be more brutal,
Then I was in our marriage,
And if by chance we do get caught,
I'll come up with a way,
To still make her pay,
Cause I'm the sickest,
Son of a gun in this town.
WHEN WILL MURDEROUS SPREES END???
An unprovoked angry, bloody,
and deadly war zone
on an unprovoked whim
dispassionately, indiscriminately,
and nonchalantly killing twelve
innocent people
with vigorous vim
subsequently,
(the lone this round gunman),
a Marine combat veteran met
similar fate tim
morosely, or with
machiavellian bravado,
once again all to soon
invoking serum
min eye zing against,
an aggressive ploy
to STOP wanton
heart wrenching mass killings
leaving grievous survivors,
friends and family
of those mowed down
teary eyed with many,
a blotchy red rim,
when a scant
few hours earlier
attendees at Border
line Bar & Grill
in Thousand Oaks
Southern California
meticulously did prim
and prep countenances nim
billy giving a final
touchup oblivious,
how soon, a dozen random
lives and limb
would be brutally
wrenched asunder,
asper an anonymous Jim
Mead self made assassin
already on record
(purportedly police
spoke with him)
last spring, he
Ian David Long, 28,
(a former machine
gunner, and Afghanistan
war veteran) did grim
lee forsake his life
amidst the
bloody carnage
again forcing Americans
love affair with guns
lessons purpose driven
existence go dim!
I am in a murderous mood.
You will have to be dealt with
And you and you and also you two.
But what did I do?
Did you mean me?
Not me right?
I did not start the fight.
I am in a murderous mood.
I am coming after you all.
I am bristly angry, and five feet tall.
But what did I do?
It was him, not me.
Not me right?
I do not fight.
I have been up since three.
I mean everyone.
Oh, wait. Are those flowers?
Planting is such fun!
And is that a pup?
And coffee in a cup?
You can live today
But your time is nearly up.
The Murderous Crow
Who, on Earth, would know,
If I were but a crow?
Lonely, wander humankind
With murder on my mind.
What field to swoop and hop
In among the crop,
If men of sack and straw
Silently wage their war?
What chance must I take
If the scarecrow should wake?
I am greedy for the grain
And would, foolishly, remain.
How can I survive
While man remains alive?
If I should peck their eyes
It'll be me who surely dies.
When will I ever learn
Never, no more, to return
To the killing fields of man
Who wouldst shoot because they can?
Who would ever know
If I was, but once, a crow?
Perhaps in future days
In your cabinets and displays.
©RJVHorton2016
MURDEROUS HOLIDAY
By Roy Merritt
The havocs came out of the fog
with faces wretched and forlorn
Borne them up from hell
Borne them upon the storm
A vacation from the nether world
Satan has granted these few
To alight upon the living
To do the things they knew
To do the things they knew
To do the things they've done
To smite the good and bad
In revelatory fun
And one can hear the terror
Where these monsters feet have tread
Leaving blood where they walk
And many prone and dead
And when their victims wail and bade
The reason why
Why this compulsion they possess
Why must it be they die
The havocs will roar with laughter
A horrid sound it be
And declare to these inquiries
It merely be destiny
It was written upon tablets
From Ages ill defined
Deemed before the minutes
Even merged themselves with time
And we be just the servants
Of Satan and God as well
They be one in the same
Ruling in heaven and hell
We obey their every whim
We act on what they say
And they be the ones who grant us
This murderous holiday
This bloody holiday