Who knows who are the casualties of war?
Are they the wounded, maimed, and all the dead?
Who counts the orphans, widows, those displaced?
The untold truth, a light on this can shed
I also am a casualty of war
My soul is wounded by the grief I see
The war is raging here inside my head
I am held hostage, longing to be free
Survivor guilt is ravaging my nights
The blast of bombs, a morbid wake up call
Though I'm alive, I feel so dead inside
Like those cut down by hate, I take a fall
Destructor's cravings are insatiable
The sites destroyed include those of my mind
My tears pour down with that of martyrs' blood
Like refugees, a haven I must find
A lesser casualty, yet I am one
This war is altering my very soul
I am ashamed to claim a numbered place,
Yet war affects the country as a whole
Aggressors will not stop their killing spree
The toll of death goes higher every day
Who counts the living dead, devoid of hope?
The shroud awaits the ones this war will slay
These casualties of war exceed belief,
and trauma rages on without relief
It's Thanksgiving eve and
The Browns brought a live turkey
To eat but little
Did they know that it wasn't
An ordinary turkey but
As day turn into night and
Darkness sweeps through the
Turkey starts to transform into
A large turkey monster, with big
Green eyes, it had even snuck
Inside the house earlier and
Laid wait, for his moment to strike
As they slept, it grabs a butcher's knife
And goes on a killing spree, afterwards
He goes into a back room, where
The grandmother was nodding in a chair
She hears a sound, opens her eyes
They nearly pop out, before she could scream
He turns back into a turkey
Hops in her chair, the two cuddle
Then falls fast asleep
My heart aches at thought of elephants' plight
Those splendid ivory tusks ignite
Killing spree that's totally senseless
Brutality against absolute defenceless.
Elephants roamed with freedom graced
Then intruders arrived with deadly face
Felled by ignorance and arrogant gun
I ask you, how can this be fun?
Safari of death for beautiful ivory
Bangles and beads such bloody finery
This went on for too many years
Did anyone note doomed elephant tears?
God’s Creation
Miracle Man
10/9/2023
Nations rise against Nations,
God said this would be.
So as each day expires,
it ends another killing spree.
Seems only mayhem,
can satisfy some men’s craving.
But shooting up the streets,
far surpasses misbehaving.
We fight and we scratch,
sometimes living with dread.
Without thought of the cross,
where Jesus hung and bled.
As God surveys HIS creation,
that to HIS word won’t adhere.
I can’t help but ponder,
if HE is shedding a tear.
Adolf Hitler was the most evil of men
As evil as a human could be
Should've been hung by his you know whats
Before his killing spree
They say he was actually a human being
I certainly have my doubts
Wreaking havoc on a whole race of people
What was all that about
Perhaps he was the devil reincarnated
Or maybe Genghis Khan
Shouldn't make light of his murderous exploits
Purely just an evil man
Can't imagine it will ever happen again
The world's a lot saner now
Ya right! Guess I'm sounding a bit delusional
A lunatic out on the prowl
Billy the Kid, a gunfighting cowboy,
he started his killing spree as a young boy;
escaped often- arrested,
shot and in a grave rested;
and legends grew for Billy to enjoy !
________________________
April 30, 2022
Poetry/Limerick/Billy The Kid
Copyright Protected, ID 04-1452-839-30
All Rights Reserved, 2022, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, High Noon
sponsor, Joseph May, Judged 05/08/2022
Who says the world is free.
Come I will show you the bodies hanging on the maple tree.
Who says the world is free.
Come i will show you the bodies hanging on the apple tree.
Who says the world is free.
Come I will show you how they go around on a killing spree.
Who says the world is free.
Come i will show you the blood flowing like a sea.
Who says the world is free.
The freedom here has got a fee.
#Kashmir
Moses saw light on a tree
Pharaoh was on a killing spree
Moses had to stand against all odds
Pharaoh claimed to be the best of gods
Moses did it all for the faith
Pharaoh did it all for arrogance
Moses fought and went walking through the Nile
Pharaoh followed and drowned in a mile.
Black Americans marching on the street
protest white cops on a black killing spree.
And many will likely be gassed or beat:
to unlock change; unity is the key.
The racist hounds of hell have been let loose,
and Death's icy breath chills blacks to their bones.
Risking being found hanging from a noose:
they march unarmed amidst batons and stones.
Some white suburbanites are angry, too,
outing bigotry; they stand side by side.
History will note what the blacks went through,
memorializing the tears they've cried.
The rights of their children are what's at stake;
and those rights no one has the right to take!
THE TRIAL
With shackled hands and feet
he steps clumsily
into the dock.
Pushed down into his seat
he sits
pale-faced,
jug-eared,
impassive,
young,
and gazes out
at those who would accuse him.
Listening to the people speak
of their anger,
loss and grief,
of the violence hurled
one Christchurch day
in the madness of a killing spree
when Muslims came to share and pray
in innocence and peace.
No answers
for the darkness
of that savage day
when racist hatred burned.
The trial now over,
the sentence made.
The families brave
in their resolve,
step out into the sunshine
of a Christchurch afternoon.
Supporters gather round and cheer,
greeting the families with their love,
applause at justice done,
a waiata sung.
In unity a community
can now move on,
knowing that the time for love
and healing has begun.
ARINA FISH
Within her I see, all the good, the bad, the prettiest ugly
The tormented Queen, lost in her Princess Diaries
Want to be, wanting to be, so miserably happy
She screams, echoing in tunnels of bad memories
Voices of envy, conspiring, but meant nothing
In front of the, touching, skin curls up now crawling
Intensity, what one believes, abstract mentality
Killing spree of who breathes, inhale the disease
Then buries unthinkingly, the thoughts needed to be
To be...SET FREE...set free...
bmdavey@06/14/20
I was old when he was a baby
my feline loved me ardently, but he drove me crazy.
He loved to play at midnight when everyone slept,
Chewed on toys and on my covers he often crept.
Meow Meow, baby scratched me
Meow Meow, i tried to flee
Meow Meow, he was on a killing spree
Meow Meow, he got distracted by a bee
O'sweet little cat I'm about to throw you out the window,
or smother your sweet face in my pillow.
your tiny claws marked my skin,
painted by blood from deep within.
Meow Meow, A baby scratched me
Meow Meow, i tried to flee
Meow Meow, he was on a killing spree
Meow Meow, he got distracted by a bee
Rode around Essex with murder in mind
With evil followers from town to town
Matthew Hopkins was the worst of his kind
Hunting for witches that he could take down.
Towns people would say that woman's a witch
She'd then be tortured until she confessed
Then hanged until death and thrown in a ditch
Hopkins got paid saying she was possessed .
People believed his work was of the good
Earned a large fortune from superstition
By ridding' evil 'from the neighbourhood
Claimed witch finding was his holy mission.
Three hundred murdered in his killing spree
Were all tortured and charged with sorcery.
Written 1st August 2019.
Sent from my Windows 10 device
Who wants to think
Of hate that stinks?
Not us but them
Till bomb bursts dam
In a mad fling
Wild shooting springs
Fear in swift flow
Now crusades blows
The world comes round
To taunt home grounds
Violence now curls
As terror hurls
In our backdrop
Extreme views crop
What starts alone
Can blast our cone
In a mad flash
Destructive crash
Why us you ask?
Terror now basks
If you but see
Hate's killing spree
Be willing now
Know why and how?
No one is safe
Yet live most brave
Violence destroys
On any soil
Live well each day
Prey less yet pray
Be willing still
To forge bold will
Let intent clear
Deal with odd fear
Terror knows well
Hate's empty shell
Truth can be harsh
In this wild marsh
The world awakes
To violent shakes
Why us you ask?
Terror yields husk
Leon Enriquez
20 March 2019
Singapore
All I have to do is paint a portrait of somebody being dead and he or she dies in real life.
I've painted portraits of my former boss, my in-laws and I also painted a portrait of my wife.
I've been given a magical power but I don't know where it came from.
My killing spree is not going to end, there will be more deaths to come.
I'm going to paint portraits of Hillary Clinton and Donald Trump.
Then I'll paint portraits of the creators of the new Doctor Who TV show, I'll get rid of all of those chumps.
I'm also going to paint a portrait of a bully who I went to school with.
He'd better enjoy what time he has left because he won't have long to live.
I will never see the inside of a courtroom, I will never be tried.
If you don't want your portrait to be painted, don't get on my bad side.
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