Best Terrorising Poems


Premium Member Suicide of Speech

I'm so tired to speak,
so words remain asleep

it's a suicide of speech.

There is so much to say.
I fight silent soldiers of suppression -
terrorising like hisses from snakes.

Fragile expressions become
a potpourri of poisoned petals -
melting like snow hit by sunshine

it's a suicide of speech.

Another battle lost to your
wicked war of words.
Or is it the mind overthinking?

No immunisation for ignorance,
when you only see a machine without heart.
I'm mute like dripping blood

it's a suicide of speech.

Concealing truth under sorrow's veil,
so they only see my misleading smile -
they can never kill that.

After all I'm too tired to speak,
so let my words sleep

it's a suicide of speech.

Simple Musing
Silent One

29 February 2020
© Silent One  Create an image from this poem.

George Burton

When Filey's rebel rousing rats,
    Were terrorising local cats,
    Who would not engage in rodent wars
    Refusing even, to go outdoors.
    No match for rats, that scavenge scraps,
    Instead they sat on old maids laps.
    While alley cats  who acted tough,
    Those rabid rats ignored their bluff.
    Until George Burton's name, became folklore
    When he destroyed those vermin, by the score.
    And with his most aggressive stance,
    Those rodents simply, never had a chance.
    Then he would say, when quite certain.
    Another one's down, it's gone for a Burton.

    1/ 10/ 2022.

    This is a rather whimsical tribute to the pest controller
    George Burton. Who helped  the town of Filey North Yorkshire
    to maintain health and safety. As a request from his granddaughter.

Americanisation

Manipulations, misrepresentations and government violations,
America has been terrorising for many generations.
Spying allegations, secret conversations,
US imperialism continues to destroy nations.
Cheers and celebrations for leader’s assassinations,
Activists disliked for anti-war demonstrations.
Iraqi invasions, Strategic implications,
Lies and propaganda from bias media stations.
Military occupations in various locations,
Native Americans forced back onto reservations.
Greedy multi-billion dollar corporations with no limitations,
The IMF plus World Bank equals evil creations.
Forced sterilisations, fake vaccinations,
Too many unnecessary health care complications.
Firearm fascination, covert operation,
Bombing without hesitation, countries left in devastation.
Celebrity fixation, racial discrimination,
A country facing global economic isolation.
Guantanamo detainees tortured for information,
A brutal CIA program called enhanced interrogation.
A history of government attacks and ruthless intimidation,
Kids in Fallujah continue to be poisoned from radiation.
Too many Palestinians are victims of dehumanisation,
The US and Israel are a deadly combination.
No admiration for globalisation,
Time to abolish every greedy organisation.
Coca-Cola, Starbucks and McDonalds in every location,
While Wall Street fantasies about world domination.
No exaggeration, it’s not my imagination,
Welcome to the age of Americanisation.
© Wes Martin  Create an image from this poem.


Why Only Muslim Terrorists?

To UN gathering in Newyork, 2005.
(This Poem is dedicated to Dalit human rights
Caste violence: Wednesday, August 31, 2005 (Gohana):
60 Dalit houses burnt down in Gohana, Haryana, India.)
 
Do you know why matters are pending?
Is nobody has interest to touch them?
Actually a person deals with a matter,
Why does he need it for a benefit?

Who cares about justice?
Thousands files are hiding cases,
They demand to proceed for justice,
Are the concerned people not aware it?

Terrorism is high spotted agenda today,
Poor Dalits are suffering over the centuries,
Their human rights and a terrorising class,
Is still a hiding case as benefit seekers deal?

Are they made options only for Muslims?
They feel their activities are terrorising,
But when they shall feel about Hindu terrorists,
Who burns Dalits houses and rapes them.

Today world’s unanimously adopting,
Why is it on terrorism only for Muslims?
Who shall speak for Dalit human rights?
Why is world blind for Hindu terrorists?

Youth Society

Growing up in a rundown estate
Statistics Predict the youths fate

Gathering in crowds, loitering with intent
Terrorising the weak there days are spent 

Subject to verbal and physical abuse
Victims of the crowds drug misuse 

They never let up, always a problem 
Local authorities fail to solve them 

acting out as they've been neglected
Wanting to be seen, heard and respected

They all have a past, story to hide 
looking for support, someone to confide

Let down by society, branded as vermin
In an environment where there constantly learning

Trick Or Treat

Happy Halloween everyone 

??"Trick or Treat"??

Zombie pirates,
Ghoulish ghouls,
Slimy monsters,
Oozing drool.
Floating ghosts,
Warty witches,
Frankenstein,
Covered in stitches.
Bandaged mummies,
Dracula's bride,
Hairy werewolves,
Slicing your insides.
Possessed dolls,
Ugly scarecrows,
Thirsty vampires,
Slurping up blood flow.
Red devils,
Scary clowns,
Possessed princesses,
Terrorising the town.
The grim reaper,
Evil cats,
Scary Mary,
Oh I, Love all that.
Tonight's the night,
For "Trick or Treat",
Kids of all ages,
Eating too many sweets.


The Spirit of Vengeance

Mine is a road that has no definite ends
Mine is the truth that always bends
Mine is that terrorising expectation that transcends
Mine is the unspeakable news that every sign portends

Mine is a sun that shall not shine bright
Mine is a group of stars but yet no light
Mine is the hurtful feelings that all shall incite
Mine are the flames of chaos that shall ignite

Mine is the sorrows, the horrors and the pain
Mine is the pandemonium your tomorrows will not contain
Mine is the evil from which I shall not abstain
Mine is the iniquity that will be instigated with might and main

Mine is all the damage that cannot be undone
Mine is the intensity that shall exceed that of a scorching sun
Mine is the moment that shall and WILL be the only one
Mine is the one left after all is said and done

Mine shall extend from the setting of the day through the break of dawn
Mine is the disquieting atmosphere that your violence shall spawn
Mine is your innocence that the fury of my conflict shall descend upon
Mine will be done over and over and over again until I am gone

Hanzel and Grezel

Let me tell you about the notorious two
Well known by both me and you
Terrorising the neighborhood 
They ventured in to the wood
Causing mischief, getting up to no good

Poor old Anne May
Was baking cakes and cookies one day 
Left them to cool by the window on display
Not knowing that the two were stalking their prey
The little sods ate the hot cookies off the baking tray

Then threatened poor granny May to make some more
When she refused they tried to squeeze her in between the oven doors
Lucky a computer hacker running from the police heard her distressful implore
He witnessed the duo trying to cut her up with a saw

They chased after him and caught him in flight
Boy you should have seen he put up a good fight
The police caught them and the duo acted like two little children that had fright
“It’s not like that,” he said, “Go see the old woman, what a sight.”

The police went to Anne May’s house
She was lying all wounded in a bloody blouse
Still squealing like a little mouse
She shook and would say anything until she saw her spouse

The notorious two were eventually taken to jail
The computer hacker now works for the FBI on bail
And if you want to know what happened to poor old May, the story is out on email. 
For those who are blind there is computer screen braille

Premium Member Wide Awake

Clattering coins 
forcefully flung 
inside a fragmented glass jar,

doleful howls full of misery, woe
nocturnal creatures arise,

rapid rotations, 
continual tornados

tedious echos beneath 
a derelict railway tunnel,

nefarious lightning 
strikes the thunder,

rolling immensely enraged
she roars fighter jets in fury,

disturbed bees, swarming their hive
stalking, terrorising, pestering

a solo stone plunges
down a bottomless well,

belligerent twangs
upon a jilted ukulele,

these were her hunger pangs,
which fed her insomnia at night.

Passage of Past and Found

As I sat in quondam agony and anguish,
The inimical air stales through my nose.
A teary, terrorising sting like a potent radish,
So envious of shared beds and emotions volubly composed.

Weakened by haste I screamed in ignominity,
Unaware of these eyes of judgement swelling my wounds.
I pushed away the triffid times. Silently. Cautiously.
On my knees i begged for repletion in ruins.

I stood up with broader clarity yet ponderous,
Awaiting the moments of interregnum once 'He' was king,
Looked up to the persed skies on edge with sights so wonderlous,
Trying to share such cogent details to you in the interim.

A Wraith. Such shock and surprise, I ought to follow.
So suddenly, the despair secretes out of my soul.
Confabulating the past while smiles start to nourish what used to be hollow.
Thankful I avoided the burking. Blandish with touch, sprouting to be whole.

Lineage of Warriors

A deep pink color tinged with orange like that of a flamingo 
walking with our feet in shallow water 
As I gazed upon the sunlight, dazed and bewildered 
Squeezing the life out of us we believed them just like Adam and Eve 
were cruelty taking over like cancer 
Asking us to put on a mask and loose who we are 
Manipulating our psycho 
Playing tricks on us 
Terrorising our souls 
Hijacking our thoughts
Waving the flag singing the national anthem but  they kept on firing the  chili bullets mixed with ginger, cumin and oregano 
They mow down a number of lives 
Seeing the blood of my brothers and sisters smeared to my face 
The trait of extreme cruelty 
What a brutal barbarous savage act 
The color of our flag painted with the blood of innocent people 
They have being treated in a cruel and savage manner 
My mind is still on replay trying to find answers 
We are  in agony of hopeless grief 
We're griped by fear of failure and rejection 

20.10.20 is the dressing code 
Venue Lekkitollgate
As they danced and rejoice by sipping the blood of young Nigerians
What they asked for was just a new Nigeria 
The mistakes of our past will not hold us 
Surrounded by demons on our left and angels on our right 
You can't mute us 
We're on a rescue mission to save our fatherland 

@bint__abdolrahman

Premium Member Our Broken World

Many years ago, when I was just a young boy
The world was a safe place there was lots of joy
But I'm a lot older now and a lot wiser too
And I've seen the evil that mankind can do.

But when you read the news or switch on your TV
There is no more good news or is it just me ?
I look all around me and this is what I find
A world that's full of evil that's terrorising mankind.

Men have twisted religion and suited it for their needs
They think Gods on their side and commit evil deeds
You cannot oppose them for they will likely kill you
You must go with their ways it's all that you can do.

There are many oppressed communities living in fear
They call out for help, but the world does not hear
But sadly, that that much needed help arrives too late
By then some communities have met with a terrible fate.

There is no prayer book that says it's okay to kill or maim
But they carry out evil atrocities in their 'Gods' name
Their 'God' must be an evil one not the one who is kind
They're brainwashed by others with a twisted mind.

But there's hope do look around you, and you will see
People doing many good deeds for others selflessly
It certainly helps restore your faith in humanity
And you think to yourself that's how it should be.

Premium Member They Exist, When Summoned

On a dark isle off Scotland's west coast
There sits a castle with it's evil host

This harbourer of witchcraft and demonic doom
Is to leave this planet like a deathly dark tomb

Servants of the night as they have in the past
Will once again rise to finish their task

Summoned they will come from the fires of Hades
Black angels of him to the light they'll degrade

At every full moon they command the skies
They will unleash their fear with shrieking cries

These bat shaped creatures with heads of snake
Devour their enemy to a deadened shake

Villages and towns make ready their night
The safety of the clans from evils delights

Deep in the cellars and caves where we hide
Discussions for hope to repair this divide

Tears flow as emotions are shared
When this hell is over how many of us will be spared

From where we shelter we hear terrorising screams
To the older of us, it's more reoccurring dreams

Into the hours of the morn the onslaught goes on
What kind of a place can these creatures come from

Suddenly we hear the most thunderous of crashes
As the cobalt blue black is cut through with flashes

We see on the hills the glowing of white
Sporadic they are as they come out of the night

These riders of white on unicorns they ride
Is this what will save us and repair the divide

They raise their arms releasing white silver flashes
Connecting with these creatures as they turn into ashes

Many hours of conflict as the dawn brings a new day
The land reeks of battle and deathly decay

As we enter the light and our surroundings we view
The count leaves not many, I'm just one of a few

To the unicorns we turn, in praise to declare
But we see nothing at all, they were no longer there










http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/dark-5.php

The Game of Drive Troy Crazy Part 2

some play as if they are tpoo good for me
when they are scum
some play as tho they have to kiss my butt
and every knows the merry go round that goes rtound and round and round
and they criticise
and worship 
and i beg to doiffer
as they count how many times i pick my nose and poop and pee
so they can throw it in my face
all in the name of humanity
because in grade school i was suspicious
when ozzy osbourne was eating bats
and madonna was masterbating on stage
and heavy metal acts were commiting suicide on stage
i fifgurted Hitler ran the place
so i had to see for myslef and invented the game and the rulkes to the game to 
drive troy crazy

oh if only you could see your faces
back to the neon ballroom
steem will rise
back to the neon ballroom
and then slide away to whats under rug swept there is hardly any time

The game of drive troy crazy
and no one seems to care
reaching out in the absense of darkness
to prove to you 
im a real life super hero victom 
social experiment
to terrorise youy in your backyard
and tghe police wont do anything
and neither will the feds
so i can turn it all aroundf in the hollywood happy ending
and you can all guess again
until you know who i truly am

Im your terrorist
victom of being terrorised
wont you help me im terrified terrorising you
so they can control you with my fear
because fear is contagious
otherwise wed have genocide
so whats the new object to crave?or who is the new role to purchase?
should we rewind the tapes?
im justa  robot and plastic are my brains

Premium Member Hoover or Kirby Correctional payoffs

Rather Galesburg Joliet 
Terrehaute Florence Colorado 
to the shores of Bogotá 
flushing heroin fentanyl 
through the gates behind bars 
thee corrupt prison ran 
by gang leaders paying 
off prison guards you can 
ask yourself what brand 
to buy into Hoover vacuum’s 
are reliable American made 
while Kirby Brands offers 
negligence falsifying death 
row inmates finally hangman’s 
curse while the hoover 
vacuum continues to crawl 
over the paisley patterns in 
the federal building breaking 
even on Lasalle and Van Burean
where Gargano once controlled 
most of the revenue trading fenced 
with osh gosh severe terrorist 
threats released only when corrupt 
prison guards do exactly what 
he says attack who he says attack 
while Kirby vacuum holding twenty 
convictions drugs violence victim 
intimidation battery hit and run 
corrupt family members controlling 
Wisconsin prison system looking to 
transfer power back to Joliet upon 
Hoover stamp of approval which 
might cross over interfering with 
the free Hoover movement this 
certainty opens the flood gates 
for Gambino early release programs 
for death row inmates just can’t 
have all power to the people without 
including all prison across America 
not to exclude Gitmo with the 
boarders rise in Islamic crossing 
over Lore Mannino territories all 
corruption throughout prison systems 
changes hands through Gambino rackets
funnelling crime throughout abuse 
of power corruption evenly distributed 
meanwhile power is being tampered 
with 40 years of dirt swept under 
the rugs until the Hoover vacuum 
is plugged back in all bets are off 
ask yourself what’s your Brand 
Hoover trustees or unreliable Kirby 
designed to malfunction fictitious 
score boards chips blood everywhere 
devouring the structure of all power 
terrorising FBI confidential human sources 
during an election where corruption sinks 
fast folding swiftly better get a broom 


No fear of terrorist threats from 
violent offenders gang leaders 
corrupt prison guards organised 
corruption abuse of power intimidation 
of an FBI confidential human source 
FBI informants CLEAN IT UP

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