Best Threatening Poems
Threatening Boy With Twin Knives
The latest shocking video clip in What'sapp is going viral ....
Featuring an angry little boy facing off his grandparent...
In his hands were a pair of kitchen knives, one in each hand....
He screams in frustrated anger directed at his grandfather...
Standing his ground in a most obstinate manner...
As the old man tries to disarm him with a long bamboo pole frayed at its end...
This is a very extreme case of a family with gadgets and money aplenty...
Electronic gadgets and computer games as baby sitters...
Unlike old times when TV was the live-in maid and baby sitter...
But TV dramas, movies and series are approved for viewing audience...
Unlike all the violence, blood and gore in addictive electronic games....
Seriously, if there is no violence or criminals elements...
No way such electronic games will have a captive playing audience...
So many games promote senseless slash, gore and kills galore...
Try watching, you will be shocked at trigger happy violence and more...
The electronic human player is denied healthy human interaction that's available ....
Only if they get off their butts to indulge in physical games with buddies ....
Little wonder these grandparents are confronted with this boy monster ...
Whose character has been digitally altered and social values distorted...
You see the anger inside him, and in the obstinate stance in him...
And the adult folks are left wondering if there is something wrong with him...
Little knowing that the major fault was in how they have raised him..
On a diet of excessive and unfettered access to electronic games .....
That has molded and shaped his very character into an anti social monster...
To hell in a hand basket, a famous old phrase
Times haven't changed, they're even kookier today
With those at the helm
We're overwhelmed
With threatening rhetoric, things are starting to decay
Escaping the prose,
I hid in the verse
My mind to compose,
instead of converse
Defying description,
I sang through the notes
And placed my inscriptions,
in lyrical rote
I chose to hear music,
over reasons again
To dine with the mystics,
where forever begins
And when forcing my pen,
back to stories untold
The Muse starts to darken,
—threatening Kobold
(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2016)
Beware, Christian, rise up, awake;
listen full well for each mistake.
Deceptive, spirits are opaque.
Ominous rival, shady snake.
Label yourself by Christ’s own name
Light, Truth and Joy dare to proclaim.
Menacing one will bring you shame,
try to convince you God’s to blame.
What’s really dark appears as bright
wrong appears right and black seems white.
Refining flames you must ignite;
don’t let the devil block your light.
Have you taken God’s name in vain?
Are you a “Christian” for your gain?
Do you waffle, debate, complain?
Temptation can smear your campaign.
Stand firm in faith and gain control
Make truth and peace your first patrol.
Foreboding threats can’t take your soul
Christ’s righteousness, your only goal.
Pray often, pray in the Spirit;
speak boldly and use God’s toolkit
to brand that snake as the culprit
Reflect God’s grace, grow in it.
March 25, 2023
sponsor: Constance La France
contest: Writing Challenge "O" Words
Ripped, tattered, uselss wings
Cravings denied, heartless beings
Happiness was finally reached
Then you take her, ecstacy leeched
Gleaming smirks now faded frowns
Two for him, one for me
Loveless hate, can't you see?
Pain prevented, if only you cared
Instead you lash out, weapons bared
Multiple lives you would of saved
If only, if only, you had stayed
To hell in a hand basket, a famous old phrase
Times haven't changed, they're even kookier today
With those at the helm
We're overwhelmed
With threatening rhetoric, things have started to decay
Everyone listened, but nobody talked,
as the Vicar rode on by
His horse an old swayback, loaded with bibles
stove hat pointing up toward the sky
Everyone listened, but nobody smiled,
as the Vicar stormed and raged
“To hell in an instant, to hell you’re all going,”
bony fingers turning the page
Monday till Saturday they spread their delight
catch-as-catch-can, then again
But Sunday morning to awaken in fright
—and face the Vicars threatening hand
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2018)
For two months I've been receiving threatening phone calls.
I haven't done anything to provoke the man, nothing at all.
The Police can't trace the calls because they aren't long enough.
I'm scared out of my wits, the last two months have been rough.
He says that he's going to drag me into an alley and cut my throat from ear to ear.
I look over my shoulder everywhere I go, I'm a man who has been living in fear.
Oh no, he has just arrived on my property with a gun and he says he's going to shoot.
I just shot him with my shotgun, I'll no longer have to live in fear because of that brute.
That Psychopath wanted me dead, that much is clear.
I thank God that I will no longer have to live in fear.
(This is a fictional poem)
To hell in a hand basket, a famous old phrase
Times haven't changed, they're even kookier today
With those at the helm
We're overwhelmed
With threatening rhetoric, things are starting to decay
Old age
Threatening near
Wrinkles on forehead
Lines on corners of eye
Netted crosses on cheeks
Plumps of fat
On protruding belly
Double chins
Hanging loose
Shrivelled hands and fingers
Resemble those of a cold blooded animal
Clumsy legs
Staggering
Sinking eyes
Dimming
Exhausted brain
Confusing
A complicated world
A bleak future
For every oldie
And it comes only once
I try so hard not to listen,
Yet still I hear their voices, mocking.
A constant stream of threatening whispers,
My sanity was surely rocking.
They told me folk were out to get me,
They told me that I might be dying.
Should I stay or should I flee,
I cowered in the corner, crying.
I locked the doors, pulled the blinds,
Took some pills and went to bed.
Sleep though was not forthcoming,
Too much chatter in my head.
There are days when they are silent,
I pray to God that they have gone.
Just as my mind begins to rest,
Back they come, to babble on.
Entry for
Voices.... Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Silent One.
2/12/18. Placed =2nd.
To to dummy that has been stealing my work
I have my original work saved on an usb
Stop rewriting and changing titles on my work
They always blame things on hackers, but this is an inside jobs
the truth is the truth,
Its time for this old patriarchial system to die
these covens will be done away with!
Escaping the prose…
I hid in the verse
My mind to compose,
instead of converse
Defying description,
I sang through the notes
And placed my inscriptions
in lyrical rote
I chose to hear music
over reasons again
To dine with the mystics,
where forever begins
And when forcing my pen
back to stories untold
The Muse starts to darken
—threatening Kobolds
(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2016)
C-ontagion's
H-orrible
R-isk
I-s
S-ilently
T-hreatening
Y-ou
L-etting
Y-ucky
N-astiness
M-ultiply
A-s
R-abid
C-oronavirus
E-ndangers
L-ungs
O-utright
Topic: Birthday of Christy Lyn Marcelo (May 31)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
Wonderful
And threatening
Those stories
Of wholeness
Appearing
Without the
Solidity and
Certainty of
You or me..
Which as the
Story goes on
Was never
Not this way..
A threatening
Wonder
Leaving us
Seemingly
On edge..!!