Best Slain Poems
The sun now sheds tears,
Making the sky, less fenced
Inputting in me, strong hell
Harvesting on earth, ill sense
I was a snapping camera,
Now I am the major general
Making the problem my sitting throne
Housing with me, odious loans
I advise with great caption,
Making you believe my fake action,
And causing your heart to be well textured
The pains now are not to be mere mentioned
If your heart was a ball,
Then I have kicked it to the wall
If joy was water,
Then I have stained it with what I utter
You say, "love is blind"
Now it has gotten your heart dined
Now I made you sit and cry
Cry and you hope to see the light at last
I have caused your heartbroken,
Afflicting and making you more sodden
Now I miss you and even your cuddles
I plead, yet it seems like great mumbles
It is all my fault,
But I waited and fought
Yes I said your heart tastes like salt
Now it seems Peter prays for more preys
It seems I am here to prey
Forgiveness, at last, I pray
Your heart, have I slain
Your trust, have I stained
Our beginning was a tale
Its future bills were my taste
The presence now is so much a distaste
I hope to grant you peace at the tail
I have caused you, a lot of havoc
Hindering down, all your handwork
Putting you in a detrimental plight,
Now you hope to see the light
To you now, I am a Jericho
To my territory, you are the feitico
All of these, a nightmare scenario
I wish to wake up from such an impure role
At first, your heart I proposed,
State of Tranquility is supposed
Happiness, we hope to uphold
But now, our love is dearly opposed
I have made wet the floor,
Now I must be at fault
Happiness, I hope to bring forth
Although, I promised but I flopped
I fought, now I broke my limbs
My wisdom to you now dims
Now you look at me and my sins
And say, "I shouldn't have loved you the way I did"
(1) Approaching with calculated strike, my psyche your aim; you anticipate my demise.
(2) With kind-hearted souls, vulnerability is oft misjudged. Frailty the frock we wear…?
(3) You presume pure passion and palpable tenderness portray a sappy sweetheart. Rather, love’s
(4) blaze ought infer diversified pleasures, boundless paths to endless expression, and intensity for life
(5) as well as love. The old cliché… and you have assessed poorly, my friend. Thus, your lamentable plight.
(6) For I am warrior, through and through. This blood courses through veins with same magnitude and
(7) ferocity as impassioned lover and will not be wasted on you! So, when you come, come prepared
(8) for every move will be countered, every thrust deflected, all advances refused. Your endeavor to
(9) unhinge me, drive me mad, even insane will lead to your last breath, defeat, undeniable pain.
(10) Great risk for ‘tis no match which can be scored. Exists but one conclusion when one lives by the sword…
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12/8/19
For If you live by the sword then you die by the sword Poetry Contest
By Silent One
(Note: Though it appears not to have met the 10 line maximum requirement, it was 10 on my word document. I've decided to take a chance by submitting it while I consider reconfiguring this already condensed piece. I numbered each line to show where the line breaks occur ~Thank you so much for your patience :)
bleeding purple scents of storms ignite imagined nations of magi
dressed as scholars wearing blank faces feeding the furnace cash
scrawled in ink infused with tones of blood inaudibly whistling
dirges of delirious breath invoking the name of struggles flexing
dense cords of flesh swelling screams hiding in a temple’s glow
blasting the essence of western fantasies bellowing conceptions
inside dead vehicles sunsets drizzle hints of pain releasing life
throughout leveled highways perched owls project earth’s key
THE SLAIN SOLDIER BONE
Once upon a dinner plate, there lay,
A chicken bone in a peculiar display,
Arranged like a man just so upon a plate,
Wearing a Christmas hat, looking quite elite.4
With ketchup splattered in crimson hue,
Like blood from a mischievous BBQ,
A Christmas tang tastefully satisfying,
From the festive spirit, it was not shying.8
Wow, what a view, this bone looks so odd,
A comedic sight, oh how it stood,
The bone was a hero of the poultry realm,
Bravely sacrificing, as a delightful meal for them.¹²
Beside the bone, is the knife and fork,
The weapon feast, a delightful quirk,
They stood as loyal companions, unremorseful,
After devouring the bone, non were mournful.¹6
A chicken bone, on the battlefield plate,
A warrior's death, his fate so great.
Drenched in ketchup, bloodied and slain,
The battle was hard, yet honor knows no pain.²°
A Christmas hat, adorned on it top frame,
A soldier of yuletide, in this gruesome game.
A knife and fork, the weapons of choice,
Used by the victors, who made a victory noise.²4
This ends the chicken bone with Christmas flare,
A culinary honorable death beyond compare.²6
Vick Manuel Poetry {VMP}
FORM: Rhymes
Copyright ©? 26th December 2023
I
Spirit of God gives wisdom:
Read Acts, chapters 4 & 5
Doing charity and kicked down
Ananais & Sapphira: not alive
II
Peter sensed this couple, Christian
Had ignoble motives, sold land
Lied to him, they donated everything
At his feet. Scary bible study. Be warned
In My Silence, Rests The Remains Of A Slain Beast
In my silence, rests the remains of a slain beast,
the gathering of wolves, to indulge in a feast.
Such was once not a defeat in deep shame
rather, a great victory in a man's family name.
This day I speak this truth, of the ancient past
cherished words of sweet life, such may be my last
True, once my walk was in the clouds, lofty air
of that memory, I now have far, far less care.
Sweet love and life, thy music no longer plays
my soul, no longer rejoices in its lost ways
A harsh reality has now ate deep into my bones
dark music plays and in its loud wicked tones.
In my silence, rests the remains of a slain beast,
the gathering of wolves, to indulge in a feast.
Robert J. Lindley, 2-27-2018
I cannot forget Trayvon Martin - slain teen
no matter manifold more young people
unthinkingly killed, who spirits aspire
to ascend higher than a steeple.
revisited and slightly revised today
March 14th, 2021.
One deliberate shameful death,
whose demise linkedin
violent cessation of breath
thank heavy gun wielding hand
innocuous thug disguised
as armed neighborhood watch
firearm brandished
as weapon of choice.
Once again rifling thru outdated drafts,
I unwittingly repost grievous bulletin
that made headlines nine plus years ago,
an innocent lad received fatal shot
into said unarmed teenager's chest
according to testimony
courtesy Doctor Vincent Di Maio.
Memory of aforementioned crime
relegated to dustbin of criminal minds
whereby dime a dozen killings
(nowadays barely register shock)
countless young persons
genetically bequeathed with
healthy dose of melanin
gunned down during their prime.
George Zimmerman (then age 28)
ought to be pitched into the
alligator and crocodile infested Everglade
for his senseless killing (outright murder)
of Trayvon Martin slammed
as involved some illicit wick kid trade
(a slender African American
more precisely youth flush with color
only 17 years young -
(birthdate - February 5th, 1995
death date - February 26th, 2012),
whose martyrdom grows
as days/weeks fade
an exemplary gregarious helpmate
swimming against the tide
to make the grade
now slain while just a youth -
the unfounded killing
by a neighborhood watch volunteer,
who felt afraid
that this dark skinned young man
appeared suspicious pulled the trigger
with comeuppance to be paid
though -- no retribution can restore
lifeless body, still
agitated waters nor offer shade
from the justifiable media frenzy
sparked from Geraldo Rivera made
even with unanimous
approval of guillotine blade
for violence cannot only rejuvenate
a promising future
evinced by Trayvon Martin
reincarnated into tree or leaf blade
but only serves to beget subsequent
violence now unto his grave
said teenager laid!
Man down ,slay on.....
Is the anthem, as she churn louder
Fix, paint, tight and briefs...
So she presumed the loudest
Culture inborn but she doesn't Observe precepts
On some Instagram cos that's what's on
Flow so flowing when the followers turned on
But before on onset ,
Thoughts of these filled her mind
Now she's less upset
Cos she dwelleth
More on the facet
Rather than the content
Of humanity ......
She feels less concerned
Cos Her life is a major advert
Bringing more of perverts
Cos she would rather stay controversial
Than mind what ya say..
Now, Its a pity cos I'm 'pointing fingers
I first came unto earth, backed up by the universe
Adam my first name..
Mind grew and still growing
Inventions stay the meter
So everyone applauding
Smile so Real
But most for the gram
Say cheese !
Now brothers staying cheesed up
Some on the facet
Cos most on the gram.
Forth a friction, igniting
What our taken ribs do...
Culture and morals should re inculcate
The Old-folks pray on....
Yonder is how the world shifts though.
Status quo ....
Relaxing in our comfortable seats.
declaring that it's a crying disgrace
honestly, it doesn't matter to us
further than just facts are required.
to justify all of this suffering and loss
of another heinous crime
we are refusing to look
take a step back.
as the number of victims grows.
every day
Written: May 26, 2022
I would like to thank you for your visit.
I have removed these poems for a distant future book publication.
I believe we poets, can make a difference
in this world. We live in the 21st century,
we have tools( technology), we have our past, and imagination.
We just don't have the courage, because
I guess most are afraid to fail, to loose money.
All I have to say is we can't take money with us,
when we die. I also say hasn't mankind failed enough,
and isn't mankind worth the effort, our children is worth the effort..
Thank you, and my your God Bless you
John E WordSlinger
For full nine months forlorn widow,
Every nine hours by window;
Men watching their every shadow,
Still hoping for her Ricardo,
Who'd promised her Eldorado,
This doing in a Choice Meadow...
Now, The Incommunicado,
Gone her main source of Bravado
And Volunteering Troubadour,
To her a Buck she to him Doe,
Ricardo, not innocent, though...
Slain for vanishing with Grang's dough
Forsooth impeachment hearings appertain
blood on hands of
self important president,
though alcohol he doth abstain,
nonetheless permanent drunken stupor
doth wax and wain
finger of guilt
damaging democracy points
to him as chief villain
groomed since... time immemorial
atavistic primate brain
bathed (courtesy Frederick Christ Trump)
buzzfeeding chosen favored heir
go for broke - bankrupt countless times
and pulled out all stops,
viz unbridled espousing philosophy gain
amass wealth, unscrupulous
if necessary where,
might equals right play'n
deadly serious game (Life) train
sight squarely and/or roundly
scattered lovely bones
amidst tombstones testimony
incidental secondary fallout main
part and parcel, where legerdemain,
plus art of the deal linkedin
with immeasurable gloating
ego necessary to gain
con fetter writ oligarchy plain
successfully cheating, hocking,
milking, quaffing, and trending,
yielding dynastic rule
trumpeting eternal stormy reign
vaping with wealthy
zealotry (think vain)
at electorate expense
tampering koolaid acid test
courtesy illegals sown GMO grain
colluding when/where possible,
never losing sight regarding
selfish mission to attain
obligatory ideal tyranny
rampantly running roughshod,
no need to explain
writing sleight underhanded profane
antithetical, critical, heretical quatrain
badgering, belittling, besmirching,
bilking, boasting, bragging with disdain
flagrantly flaunting, fleecing,
regarding purported B.S. degree
in economics he did attain
matriculating Wharton School of law,
hmm... methinks he paid
hirling from Ukraine
forever flirting, flouting, and flunking
even basic geography questions
case in point being where is Drury Lane
additionally, he ain't no literati familiar
storied quasi fiction Citizen Kane.
Thank you,
Mr Officer for showing me
The devil is alive an real
Your cruelty is what makes
A Black man constantly bleed
It doesn't matter if I am raped
Or I cant breathe
Your errors are classified as third degree
You are praised for making
A Black man bleed
This law is unjust and so unreal
'Jesus please',
This Spirit have me on my dying knees
While chanting satan make this Black man bleed
On the floor he whispers
You want some more
While my blood is poured
Mr Officer, I can't breathe
I would appreciate if you release me, ' PLEASE'
Lift your knees and give me ease
So I can live
To say, Jesus Forgive Him
'Please'.
SLAIN
In my heart there is this emptiness
It's like I'm in the wilderness
Starving yet there is no food
Messed up...damaged,nothing good
If I could I would...
Change the very situation
The cut too deep,I can feel the pain
Hurt,broken;my heart broken
It hurts,the whole of me slain
Was connected to it but now it's been taken...
The thing I was attached to
Fell for it,my heart too
You have heard of Shakespeare's tales
But this is my story I tell
Not fantasy,not fairy,but reality
It's a confession from the victim
The latter... the latter thought it would last for eternity
Proven wrong by the outcome
I embraced it warmly but forgot the Rose is thorny
Now it's tearing my flesh apart
I've got to remain immobile can't move my body...not even a part
Warm liquid gushing out, flesh wounds, so a rose could harm me?
Sometimes I cry,
as the whole world
engulfs into flames
remorseful eyes can't cry
so they glance enviously
Sometimes I cry,
when a shooting star
births a raging comet
that spilled this vodka
all over my remains
Sometimes I can't cry,
When the world turns
it's back on the suffering
that so many had endured
turning their souls to dust
Now you can cry,
As your mother's ashes
is poured in the sea
of strife to be consumed
by the forces of despair