Best Revenge Poems
A fishing boat left the port of Kinsale
The rain was lashing and blowing a gale
Fishing grounds were in sight
Then they had a great fright
Along side swam a giant killer whale.
A fish pong round the boat was so smelly
"Hold your noses "cried out Captain Kelly
Whale then bit off a chunk
Fishing boat and crew sunk
They all ended up in the whales belly.
Written 5th August 2019.
Syllables in both stanza's
10/10/6/6/10.
Syllable check at how many syllables .com
Two sea themed limericks' poetry contest
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A. W. Nutter
Fog from my breath in the way
Temporarily impeding my vision
A small lamp, illuminates my prey
Unaware, of his impending execution
Rons wife, conveniently out of town
Visiting a sick relative, her perfect alibi
She must really despise this clown
I wonder if she kissed the fool goodbye
Staying in the shadows around the house
Dressed in black, invisible in the darkness
Entering their kitchen, quiet as a mouse
Through a window, left unlocked on purpose
From the first bedroom a child moans
Peering at the bed and the sleeping boy
The husband was supposed to be left alone
She'll pay dearly for this unexpected ploy
With the silencer in place I wake up Ron
He dresses quickly picking up his keys
Protesting will endanger his bastard son
He drives us deep into the forest of trees
Removing my mask he views his twin
Staring into the face of his supine form
Before he can protest I commit the sin
Then pray for God to help me reform
Burning the body along with the gun
Quickly driving home to start my new life
Showering, I slip into bed with my son
Real father and mother now husband and wife
Oh dear, no! To that bath place I go!
In that sink to be drenched head to toe!
Into devil, I turn
In my hell, you will burn-
This mad kitten's revenge you will know!
February 19, 2016
Oh Juliet! A memory of a love long lost in vain…
thy bridal song, a dirge of darkened madrigal becomes.
Yet thought of you, for me, brings more to mind of hate than pain
and all because you stole away the one who was my Love.
Whilst all the rest swoon ‘Juliet’, their precious turtle dove,
I left my love to serve my Lord, but thou – a concubine!
for Romeo forsook his first and foremost, Rosaline.
Let none be fooled! So cold and cruel thy wicked heart disguised,
behind a face of snow white youth and eyes of clearest blue
resides a witch, a sorceress; I swear it, though surmised.
Thy tender lips with somber kiss bore poison drops of dew
to steal my one and only love, my son of Montague!
Unfair the pair in Heaven will forever live in death,
whilst I, without my Romeo, yet he has Juliet!
*written from the point of view of Rosaline, Romeo's initial love interest before laying eyes on Juliet...
The ugly witch kept her in a tower
And made her work hour after hour,
Until her loved prince set her free
When he said, “Rapunzel, marry me.”
The old witch had a raving fit
And truly carried on a bit.
She said “I’ll fix that mangy prince,
By brewing my magic herbs and quince.”
The prince, not so dumb as the witch thought,
Dug a big trap. The witch was caught.
He forced her to drink her own homebrew
And added some of his own stuff too.
The witch lay there in a big stupor,
Elves came along, tried to recoup her.
They thought she was their friend SnowWhite.
They fed her bon bons day and night.
They noticed she was getting bigger
And pretty soon would lose her figure.
They gave her to a passing frog
Who carried her to his marriage log.
He’s proud of his bride and her loud croak
But the witch is sad, her life’s a joke.
The moral of this is plain to see
Or that’s the way it seems to me
Don’t keep a damsel in distress.
Or it may be you whose life’s a mess.
For John Heck's "Happily Ever After? contest won 9th
The three imps decided to explore
And obtain a few treats as before.
Behind them, a cat mewed for her treat
But they refused in their own conceit.
The feline vowed she'd have her revenge,
They weren't afraid of any challenge
The cat saw them enter unafraid
As night darkness fell all light did fade.
A sharp moonbeam fell on a painting.
A lady, lovely but eyes glaring.
She screamed at the bad boys for stealing
The treats, in a manner unfeeling.
Fear entered their souls as all sweets fell.
The woman uttered a nasty spell
The moon shone brightly on the beauty.
On her lap, she kissed her black booty.
Many came to see cat on her lap,
It is witchcraft, said a nervous chap.
No one dared enter the house at night,
They'd rush out in fear, scratched and uptight.
People in my school have names for someone like me.
Freak, crazy, weirdo, a spawn by the devil's decree.
I took note of every malicious word they ever spoke,
knowing that before long they'd no longer make me a joke.
None of them knew how truthful were their mocking words.
They had no clue I could spread my wings to fly among the birds,
with ravens that caw out for blood at the stroke of each midnight.
I'd fill their haunting dreams with images of daunting fright.
A snip of dried herbs, a pinch of fungal root, boiled in fat of fowl,
a concoction for me to savor, secreted to me by my mother, an owl.
Eyes that see through bloodshot color, they would see them too
when the full moon was high and the sky turned dark cobalt blue.
No help will they receive from a scream or gyrations to be free.
They soon will know they should never have made a mockery of me.
The time is near, my brew is cooled, now it's my time to have fun.
Tonight their dreams will be nightmares, a gift from the evil one.
With their eyes closed, they will envision they are being chased
by hundreds of bloodshot eyes, the likes of which they've never faced.
Black robes adorned, scepter of wormwood waved from my hand.
Eyes... wild bloodshot eyes, will seek vengeance at my command.
Fog advances to the bedrooms of those who sleep in peace.
My adrenaline is pumping, just a few more minutes until release.
A snarl of satisfaction I feel curled upon my blood red lips.
You won't belittle me again with your taunting nocuous quips.
NOW! I gave the order for the eyes to creep into their dreams
But my heart is beating too fast. This was not part of my schemes.
I can't see a bloody thing. What's happened to the spell I cast?
How long will this blindness torture me? How long must it last?
A truant officer was sent to see what had become of the freak.
Through a window he saw many ravens, all with bloodied beak.
No body was discovered. All that remained was a robe of black
and a note scratched upon the floor. "Too late to take it back."
::::::::::::::::::::::::::
December 26th, 2015
Deep and Dark Contest
Sponsor: Broken Wings
One has vision
the masses see
the other in his armchair no phd
he could use some glasses
no one cares about the ostrich
head in desert sands
attacks is
really
the repetition
of history
attacks is
really
the depletion
of humanity
attacks is
really
crimes
despicable crimes
attacks is
really
torrents of evil
pretending to shine
attacks is
really
The end
of time
“I like my lover's heart blackened with a deeper shade of darkness, where the ravens and I can rest in peace.” Ann Marie Eleazer
She had her potions ready, plus an arrow etched with runes.
Stygian mists swirled all around, yet she had perfect aim.
Into the dark forest she went and spotted the raven.
A deadly hit but ill-omened: it was a female black bird.
Cursing in anger, she knew it proved no good for her.
The male raven flew above her as she entered the mansion.
Dressed in black, she entered her dilapidated bedroom to change.
Below, all waited, dressed for the occasion.
They heard a muffled scream, and all ran upstairs.
A long time passed, and no one dared enter the room.
Finally, the door creaked open. Dust, soot, while a poison ivy
Grew on damp curtain wooden rails, a dilapidated screen
Hid a tattered black dress, while two black ravens flew into the night.
She well knew his place of abode,
And swirled inside, a vengeful tornado,
A celestial radiance had encompassed their love,
And then he disappeared on Christmas Eve,
Without a word!
Her heart had turned to stone, her eyes
Flashed around for something to write with,
Nothing, so cut her finger deeply
Her blood flowed freely
As would, a wounded bird.
Wrote on the wall in blood,
That all his future loves, would leave
Him with a broken heart, at Love’s Station
Of Departure, for she, Hypnotic Poison vowed
That he alike be cursed.
He had mesmerized and betrayed her,
His heartless, unfeeling, selfish soul,
On a windy, stormy Christmas Eve turned
Her heart to stone and blood to poison,
That is what the village said,
And what I heard!
This poem is pure fiction and the title of the poem is of a perfume. The story is in actual fact the ending of some horror movie, whilst browsing through Netflix to find a movie we wanted to see.
The Turkey’s Revenge
The lights went out…..slowly
…….at first
then
…….they dropped like flies
…………in a sudden frost.
Immobilized
…..succumbing
……to the inexorable end.
Slowing movements
…..lowered respiration rates
…Soft sighs of satiation
Building….in a muted rumble
….rising to a roaring
…..Snore….
Parades went by
…….games were played
….taunting texts unanswered
Pictures..
……..will be posted
……..of the Turkey’s Revenge
..the bane of Tryptophan’s
Napping victims
………..dreaming
……of uncut pies
…………awaiting their fate.
John G. Lawless
11/28/2015
We had a garden gnome named Griselda
the bane of our small bungalow
she was nasty and mean, at times quite obscene
the worst that you ever could know!
Her garden mate, Gregor, had feared her
but one day he mustered the nerve
with all of our backing, to send the girl packing
with cleverness, cunning and verve.
But she was vindictive by nature
and wouldn't let 'bygones' be gone
if it took all her years, she would stir up our fears
her plans were all plotted and drawn.
She waited 'til we'd quite forgotten
her villainous, vile, evil reign
then with fierce aggression, she took bold possession
of our lovely, dear, docile domain.
She poisoned the pansies and lilies
and shredded the sweet climbing vines
she disturbed my repose, when she broke the windows
with a shriek that sent chills up my spine.
She tore down my front porch swing
shattering the flowerpots and planters
mad wreckage in her wake, as she sought all to break
taking off to the back at a canter.
I squared off to defend my back garden
grabbed whatever I thought I might wield
at first, on my guard, as I entered the yard
I found she was hardly concealed...
And 'though she seemed alone in the garden
I soon found that I was mistaken
for, succinctly put- I was bound head to foot
and carried off, unhurt but shaken.
Griselda had built quite an army
it seems, in her time far away
for gremlins and trolls, from the caves to the knolls
were under her terrible sway.
They answered her orders directly
and smugly, she smiled and she smirked
a gleam in her eyes as she planned my demise
as her minions continued to work...
Heaving in stones from the quarry
they were piling them higher and higher
and my strength gave away as to my dismay
I saw they were building a pyre!
But Gregor'd escaped all their notice
as he'd hid 'neath the back garden shed
and despite his wee size, he would prove her demise
at his bellow, her company fled.
He used a cheap trick, an enchantment
that he bought from an old witch named Rue
and it seemed there were thousands (as far as the eye scanned)
of Gregors that came into view!
Her face was distorted with terror
and she promised that she'd stay away
and off like a blip- she jumped on a ship
and sailed to somewhere near Bombay.
Billy Smith was poor and it did show
His rich relatives didn't want to know
They had their cars and barbecues
And howled at Billy’s worn out shoes.
Billy went for a walk and on the ground
Saw a shiny thing, a brand new pound
Bought a lotto ticket he had nothing to lose
But should have bought glue to fix them shoes.
That night he was sitting, watching T.V.
And up came the results for the lottery
He looked at his ticket, in total surprise
He had six numbers; couldn't believe his eyes.
Some twenty years later Billy passed away
His relatives had looked forward to this day
For the funeral some had travelled miles
Wearing Sunday best and big false smiles.
He was a lovely man they’d all say
But a big surprise was coming their way
They couldn't care less about poor Bill
Only interested in what was in his will.
Three weeks later Billy’s will was read
And in it this is what the statement said
There is not one relative here today
That is going to gain in any way.
I was down on my luck you shut your door
You didn't want to know me anymore
You heard of my win, you circled around
My money I've given to the dog pound.
And here is something else that is in hand
By your houses I've purchased all the land
A sewage farm will be built that you'll see
When you open your windows, remember me.
Written 28th February 2018.
Here lies the Count of Monte Cristo
Who got to settle a few scores
With stevedores and commodores
Before stretching out below
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
Submitted on February 20, 2020 for contest POE-ETIC VERSE POETRY sponsored by CHARLES MESSINA - RANKED 2ND
Posted on November 2, 2019
It seems Mother Nature is now going thru the “change”
After millions of years it begins to be so strange
The cycle of birth, whether days or eons of time
Growing pains were abundant with great reason ‘n rhyme.
There came a time of growing, as she filed out her space
Beautiful flora and fauna were put upon her face
For man to inherit all that she had given him
A balance was created, and it was not just a whim…
Man’s intervention would follow, and wars would be fought
She was pushed to the limit, but then she had a thought
“I’m too old to accept constant manipulation.”
“It’s time to show them who’s in charge, in every nation!”
“Twilight’s coming too early so, now I’ll rearrange…
And, as all women know, hot flashes come with the “change!”