Best Psychopath Poems
Emotion has no place in the operating room, emotion cost lives.
Every time emotion comes into play, patients needlessly die.
In the operating room I am an emotionless machine.
I have a success rate that no neurosurgeon has ever seen,
and when I return home, I continue to be,
this total void of emotion human being.
I am a functioning psychopath,
pushed by my environment towards a direction of a positive path.
They live like we do and look like we do.
Inside their sometimes quintessential houses
they reside oftentimes with a wife, maybe children.
They work in jobs where we might work.
Some may even be the preacher at a church.
They could be a government official.
What harm could there be in someone with great charm?
Behind the doors of their houses,
(perhaps with those proverbial white picket fences)
they probably show at least the random signs
of who they really are.
It’s likely that someone sees something
that isn’t just quite right,
yet they are adept at manipulation,
and easily, so easily, are people fooled by them.
Meanwhile, they harbor the darkest of fantasies,
and some of them will act
these fantasies out.
Somewhere in this world right now -
somewhere in a big city nearby you,
it’s very likely that a child or young woman
was lured by some sweet words
or perhaps simply and suddenly abducted.
If not beneath the ground,
they might be miserably languishing
in a dingy basement locked up
or even kept inside a box -
fodder for the whims of
the charming psychopath.
Her thoughts rolls as a high-speed rail
with the sound of heartbeat and pumping pulses
He has planned a murder down to the last detail
without a hint of guilty conscience - leaves no trace
24.03.2019
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Writing Challenge 5
Four Lines - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Dear Heart
3rd place in the contest
Ted was a proper torturer
he'd gag me after tea
he'd ram a flannel down my gob
then dangle me on his knee
A virgin when I married
my mums and dad were Mormons
home-schoolers don't do sex Ed. much
though they did go on about hormones
I thought Ted's ways were normal
it was all new ground to me
my terrified eyes would turn him on
so I didn't have the heart to flee
I got used to the violent jerking
I got used to a gob full of flannel
but I wished I'd prayed and made a fuss
when he hid me behind his panel.
S O F
With big, bold, beautiful eyes; she
reminded him of an angel. Her hair
didn't flow, it was short. Her body
wasn't perfect, but he didn't care. It
was her soul, her willingness to do
anything for anybody. She reminded
him of his love of art with all of her
fits of passion and romance, yet ahe
was not even his. Her lover and
companion was a cruel and selfish
man that had somehow caught this
heart of a treasure of a girl. He kept
thinking that they where ment to be.
This horrible creature of a man
would not do for her. The way he
treated her made his skin boil with a
lava like quality. He knew what he
needed to do, and he was thinking
of a way tp do it. He even had a
plan. Soon she would be his. That
beautiful angel. He cranks up his old
truck and heads home. " this plan
must work for my loves sake"
The End
Maybe you’re a psychopath
you certainly have the traits
I find it disconcerting
the picture that it paints
I know you better than all the rest
They don’t believe what I suggest
They think you’re such a lovely fella
and I’m seen as a storyteller
It doesn't really bother me
if they hear it then it must be
as when I spoke it came after you
and the first story they hear is true
You spoke first and you spoke well
You told them that I story tell
I'm like oh dear I'm like oh well
but confident time will prevail
That superficial charm you have
there at first but never lasts
Project yourself as grandiose
no one compares nobody close
A need to stimulate your mind
delusional points of view you find
Pathological lying mate
that must be your greatest trait
you gloat and pride yourself this way
annoyed though when I state it’s fake
Manipulation is your game
Jedi Mind tricks mate you’re lame
I play you time and time again
then I refuse you go insane
Parasitic living freely
so expectant always needy
Now you don’t have short term lovers
embarrassed by your tiny rubber
if it was bigger girls above ya
but you detest those one night buggers
and lastly you’re never to blame
accountability brings you shame
you'll even go as far to claim
lies of others that you'll name
Now that’s 7 out of 8 psycho traits
and I’ve seen a side no one relates
they don’t believe the things I say
you’ve conned them all the psycho way
I thought you were just a narcissist
but I’ve seen your heart how dark it is
If I warn people who don’t believe me
they live ignorant and they live freely
I guess they just don’t realise
I tell the truth and you tell lies
boy are they in for a suprise
now stay the fook out of my life
I've spent the evening hunting, as I'm wont to do
and choosing for tonight an older lass,
I hold the shop door open while she passes through
and as it closes, watch her in the glass
Her face is plain, no trace of paint unlines her skin,
her matted hair is gathered in a bun
Beneath the shabby dress, her frame is overthin,
still, I've decided she's to be the one
I drop my gaze just as she steps into the street
Of which route she will take, I've made a note
My heart begins to pound and I increase it's beat
by fingering the blade beneath my coat
When moments later, I begin to follow her,
the horror I keep hidden shakes its cage
The monster I restrain by day begins to stir
and begs me to unchain it from its rage
She leads me on for leagues but I am not deterred
In fact, I'm quite encouraged by the treck
All bets, I'm not the first this dicey whore has lured,
which gets her one slice more across her neck
She hurries up the walkway of a sodden shack
and after she has shut the sagging door,
I peer in through a dirty window at the back
and see her place her parcels on the floor
No sooner has she done so, when a tiny child,
- her son - appears and dashes to her arms
and it is then, the thrashing beast I've let run wild
is battered back by blaring new alarms
I stand, deflated by this unprovoked retreat
and panicked, try to stoke the rage again
but find my homicidal urges can't compete
with what has just awoken in me, then
A crisis of one's conscience, for one moment, will
illuminate the choice twixt wrong or right
and as it was my BEAST, not HER, I chose to kill,
your cobbled streets are safe.
At least tonight....
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Written: June 4, 2021
Contest: Imagism Poetry
Sponsor: Emile Pinet
He still haunts my dreams both night and day
My bruises healed but the terror still stays
Numerous Flash backs of being used
So I wrote a spell just for the abused
Crocodile Tears of the insincere
Wax gathered from satanic ear
Hair from the head of a narcissist
Tongue of a falsifier, add snakes hiss
Breath of a psychopath is needed next
Blood of a fraudster to forge this hex
Beard of a coward cut at midnight
Hacked off by a witch before she takes flight
Pages from a self-help book
read by the abused now boil and cook
Now comes Saliva of a deceiving man
Toe nail clippings from a charlatan
Now stir it well , add blackened tooth
speak your words , tell your truth
Close your eyes and recall it well
Recollect his hatred and Feel it swell
Mix it now from left to right
Remembering his vicious spite
Take a breath let silence sing
Now let his own medicine ooze within
The noise had been there for so long
It seemed as though it was life's song
A constant cacophony of insane rage
This psychopathic woman had the stage
Slowly, steadily her screech was muted
As her false claims were often disputed
Those acidly touched by her riotous insanity
Are no longer affected by her peculiar profanity
I'm not prone to violence,
but I have no conscience.
I'm aware of happiness, sadness and every emotion.
I just lack the ability to feel any of them.
Every smile and tear I display I always fake.
I con others to get what I want. I manipulate
without remorse or any other emotional contrast.
I have been diagnosed a psychopath.
Through the set screen of a cower cover
A tyrant terror of the self resides;
Forming a merged mind with opposing sides.
Persuasion being his asset to uncover
Your desires and wants he will discover;
With deceiving decisions he provides,
His slyness and adroit nature coincides —
Whilst morality slowly starts to suffer.
Even though a bitter baleful self reigns,
His upending flaw finally I discern.
Acceptance of the hostile self, I learn
Of Mindfulness and the power it attains;
Conscious of the present moment I earn,
Forging the coaction of the True Self in turn —
You can think you’re better though affection isn’t shown
You never win approval from the people you have known
But you still boast abilities and think how far you’ve grown
with nobody around you as you’re always on your own
You’ve never known what is to be liked or to be loved
you only know what it is to be hateful with a grudge
thinking you’re superior while all else are a mug
only ever hearing your voice saying you’re above
The punishment is you are you
all your life in all you do
seeing things as you need too
the punishment is you are you
Born with a deficiency
emotionless and misery
humans are a mystery
behaving very differently
You don’t feel emotions that would make you feel alive
you just have a hollow hole where nothing lives inside
people wish you hateful suffering before you die
nobody you ever meet wants you within their life
Wishing for approval that you will never get
happy to behave a way that leaves the rest upset
it’s the only reaction that you have ever met
everyone who hurts you has no sorrow or regret
While you think you’re big and bad
others think you’re flipping sad
always lippy always mad
you’re a very tragic lad
You think you are better than everyone you knew
Everybody hating you
You think you are clever though it is far from true
the punishment is you are you
I know the sky is beautiful, I told her
who seemed delighted with everything on the road
I'm focused on driving, I grumbled
palaces and hovels
heavens or hells,
I don't care anymore, I said
be quiet and let me drive in silence
my thoughts poisoning my brain
she's a pretty girl but she's gonna die too
it doesn't matter that she's humming so well
the dumbest song ever composed
playing on the old truck radio
she pouts with her face closed
the way is boring like her words
the next gas station is right there
bunch of rednecks playing at selling gasoline
the annoying accent spoken too loudly
my will is to accelerate on them
annihilate everything
the right front tire deflating
the steering pulls to the side
fill that tire I tell the attendant
no tip when I accelerate
leaving those people in a cloud of dust
the sun setting where we go
yes, yes, the stars are magnificent,
I reply to the childish comment she makes
I bring a baseball bat by the seat
her nose bleeds like sunlight
that dyes the dirty clouds on the horizon
she is the third only this month
at first I find them charming
then i can't control myself
they start talking
and with each word they dig a little deeper
the hole where I intend to bury them
At age three she was the baby who couldn't feel afraid
A life track was set out, just the way she was made
They tested her at eighteen, with images of blood and gore
No galvanic skin response, a smile and nothing more
She lied from early on, another way to control
If you had contact with her, it was bound to take a toll
There are doors we wouldn't open, taboos and virtue codes
But like a moth to a light, she went down those wicked roads
She gloated at misfortune, but had superficial charm
It lowered your defenses when you should feel strong alarm
She was rarely caught or punished, usually won the game
Gaslighted victims in courts of law, never took the blame.
She came toward me one day, emotionless as a rock
Saw me with my child, the change gave me a shock
A look of gleeful sadism, on what had been a normal face
Then she recomposed, the revelation left no trace.
There are people who seek aliens in the depths of outer space
But they should look here on earth, within the human race
No pity is found within our alien's mirthless laugh
Inside them bad emotions thrive, beware the psychopath.
You read about these types sometimes, when the truth comes through
You get angry, feel disgust, maybe despair too.
There's no redemption possible, but do they deserve your wrath?
A mis-wired brain is all you need to explain the psychopath.
I learned that my daughter's old boyfriend was a drug dealer.
He was a scumbag who turned out to be a cold blooded killer.
When I learned how bad that he is, I made my daughter break up with him.
That made the punk extremely angry and that's when things became grim.
One night, he came on my property and burned my house down.
It burned and burned, it burned to the ground.
The fire fighters were able to rescue me, It was a close shave.
They tried to rescue my family but sadly, they couldn't be saved.
When the fire started, a neighbor saw that punk running away from my house,
She was both happy and proud to testify against that psychopathic louse.
Unless your family was murdered, you can't possibly understand my fury.
I was so happy to hear the word "Guilty" from the foreman of the jury.
Ever since I lost my wife and daughter, life has been a living hell.
I'm having to live in misery but at least that punk is rotting in jail.