Long Killer Poems

Long Killer Poems. Below are the most popular long Killer by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Killer poems by poem length and keyword.


Head Up

We need a touch of inspiration,
To lighten our pain and frustration.
Despite the sacrifices and amendments,
America remains mad and against us.

With the entire country on lockdown,
It seems impossible not to feel down.
It’s hard for us to keep our head up,
When worldly issues continue to pile up.

Everyone is on edge and extremely sensitive,
An eruption could occur at the drop of a pen.
Race, injustice, and corruption are the triggers,
The black and blue bullets are the driving killer.

An awakened volcano is not a pretty sight,
Any moment it may start yelling at the sky.
Surely people are on the verge of blowing up,
It’s a challenging time to keep our head up.
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Cancer's Hell




When I don’t know how to pray
And everything I could think of to say
Has been whispered, a supplication
Entreating Jesus, my life’s foundation…

I feel a tear slide down my cheek
And God knows the healing I seek
Will He answer with a cure?
I believe His grace will endure

When I don’t understand this disease
Cancer tells my spirit to fall to my knees
No one I know can explain this war
There isn’t a doubt it’s a grief I abhor

I feel the pain grow in my soul
Yes, it’s true that cancer stole
Pieces of my peace, my hope and belief
Will our lives ever know sweet relief?

When I don’t know what is happening
And the dread in my spirit – battling
This darkness, these shadows, this fear
All my life has changed – but God is still near

I feel the lost that colors me gray
I bow to Him who is love and I pray
For God to heal this disease, this war
These are feelings we can’t ignore

When I don’t know how to seek His grace
I listen to the Psalms, feel His warm embrace
Rising from the fear that leaves me yearning
I rest in the promises of a love that’s burning

I feel like he’s gone through the worst of the worst
And I know that he must be feeling like he’s been cursed
But there is Jesus and He shows us that there’s hope
If we’ll only listen in faith, He’ll help us to cope

When I don’t see my blessings for the shadows of doubt
I know that my Father is still seeking me out
And though I may not understand the why or how
I believe God is able and He’s with us right now

I feel alone sometimes, like I haven’t a chance
But I look at the darkness of this circumstance
And I know that Jesus can kill cancer completely
I know He can heal and I feel His love so deeply

When I don’t know the way and I just can’t say
What it feels like to face this – oh, I just pray
Whatever happens, in the day or night
There is a Father who makes all things right

I love my husband and I pray that I can be his helper
In this dark time, I hope he feels I’m a shelter
And I seek the Savior with prayers and praise
Knowing that He is worthy – His love can still amaze

So if you can take a moment to say a quick prayer
Please pray for God’s healing – I know you’re aware
Cancer is a killer and we’re praying it won’t prevail
Pray for God’s grace to destroy cancer’s hell
Form: Couplet

Premium Member Arson murder of 9 continues to burn

Unable to fear threats from 
any man who actually sent 
my ex husband to torch 
a tailor shop killing a mass 
number of elderly people 
sleeping in bed Christmas Day 
on oxygen machines as mushroom 
clouds flooded the building do 
you see special agent Alan king 
asked me before hiring me to 
wear wires on my unborn children 
while city officials helped to cover 
up mass murder I witnessed the 
plotting of Ciro gargano and I 
played in the silk garments in 
the shop where he stored the 
contents of the tailor shop sadly 
corruption threatened my life to 
silence me an yet I will never 
ever fear murderers with badges 
assisting Ciro gargano ongoing 
mass murder spree a serial killer 
extorting medical care for diapers 
and bedding for retired hitmen

Stop intimidation arson murder 
of 9 elderly people the coldest 
day 1984 I will never forget
Form: Naat

Premium Member Death By Murder

Murky water left to drink
floating particles of death
Erie presence leaves discontent
As something wicked floats in it.
The bone chilling chilly wind doth blow
off Lake Erie with flurry snow.

Late at night off cold dark shores
Shadows of a floating barge
Clouds of soot from steamers clogged
Pollutes the air with killer smog
when something wicked this way blows.

Perverts creep on angry streets
Children homeless are their prey
desperately at the mercy of
She gets plucked like a sweet ripe plumb
as something wicked this way comes.

There were no herbs, left to purge her
This was strictly death by murder
Blood dripping from their lips/
Every scary thing they fling as;
Vampires odors fumigates,
the evil deeds, their gluttony brings.

They've Desecrated the graves of men;
Though we stand by, we cannot extend,
at least a stick to beat the bush;
Or make loud noises and pretend;
While something evil this way spins.

© Vicki Acquah | Year Posted 2014
Inspired by Ray Bradbury

reposted 2017
Form: Ballad

So Stand the Fallen

Very soon marmosets and moose
will get their vaccines.

A lone gnome fishes in a Koi pond.

The light of the moon
has been dimmed by a Chinese switch.

Elite bands of cockatoos
fight for free speech, but just for themselves.

Preening jackasses bray in the green rain
and the songs are all the same.

A fearful old man stammers in the dark.

So far the greater apes are in ascendance
however, a turtle and trumpet alliance
has formed a combo of resistance.

Four masks a day and a cup of instant propaganda
keep us hiding behind a surreal subterfuge.

Afghan warlords wander empty streets
handing out relief packages.

Birds rent-out tree space to killer bees.
Belfry’s are bankrupted by fleeing bats.

Harpies and stool pigeons
turn in their stools for further interrogation.

King Kong whimpers inside a skyscraper closet,
too shy and lonely now
to swat even the smallest of biplanes.


Ghosts In the East End of London(John Loving Iii's Haunting Pass)

1888 the year of terror and fear
throats slitted open from ear to ear

JACK THE RIPPER  preying on the road
He 's spooky and wears a black coat

In the evenings his skills paint red lace
so good at his job,he kills as he plays

In Croaky Moors hiding his shadows
roaming in alleys and meadows

Five victims ,Five whores slasshed to death
Breasts thorn apart,their hearts on the bed

a stalker,a cannibal in East End of London
drinking in bars,His hiding a dungeon

The prostitutes tongues pulled  out from their roots
sending the killer in the best of his moods

Years passed come and gone,each dusk cover dawn
five ghosts are heard aching in one brutal moan

Jack's name still an echo in the narrow back streets
Soul's blood is still shedding,for justice it pleads

Scothland yard officers were being fooled
from "Hell" and "Dear Boss"letters,Jack ruled


Ruben and i tried to capture this cold blooded guy,
but we'll pass it on to J.R, Investigator with Style


Go for it  John...
  
-------------------------CHARMA
Form: Couplet

Premium Member We Ball Then Bawl

We ball then bawl


We rode the lone road
as dears that dare
each goading each's gold
up devil's stairs we stare

out to red herring's sea we see
waves of rungs that wrung
like killer bees we be
tung twigs slipping his tongue

he's a heel that's never healed
spouts the whale and her wail
but as bees spill more spiel
she becoming pale kicking his pail

she took pain from his window pane
tears dropping the glass tiers
till she reigned his clouds of rain
no longer his deer poke or dear

misery's won and they're back to one
what's don is now done?

connie pachecho

4/25/17
Form: Sonnet

Premium Member Death In Nature a Normal Cycle

inspired by nature contest theme

The wood pigeon 
       awoke on her roosting perch
fluttered 
       with a nervous jerk
warily searching for sustenance
above 
   the peregrine 
      made a fateful entrance

The winter harsh 
                 &icy cold
driven far 
from its familiar fold
    seeking food 
further afield 
    an urban garden 
         might increase its yield

Under the biting 
                  wintry sky 
the falcon hovered high
an efficient killer
             from above,
more than a match 
        for pigeon or dove

Taking its chosen meal 
in flight
        swooping sudden 
from a great height
its momentum imprinting 
                 our window pane
throat slashed she soon was slain

Talons sunk deep 
        into the pigeons chest 
this finicky eater 
      pecked at head and breast

The lawn strewn leavings 
              of a ravenous raptor
wherd nature's journal 
        leafs another chapter

Killer Clown

An evil man decided to become a killer clown after he watched 'It'.
He showed no mercy, murder was a crime that he loved to commit.
And just like in Stephen King's miniseries, he loved to kill kids.
People are still terrified because of what that killer clown did.
Parents started locking their doors and they made their children stay inside.
Human life meant nothing to that clown and he committed many homicides.
He murdered over and over, he committed murder 32 times.
He was eventually caught and executed for his horrible crimes.
That evil clown went to a birthday party and was going to kill every kid there.
But the police were waiting for him and he was arrested and sent to the chair.
As he was being electrocuted, his head burst into flames.
It was a horrific death and he only had himself to blame.
He died in agony because of his horrible sins.
He vowed to reincarnate and start killing again.
Because that evil clown was executed, people are feeling a lot of relief.
The world is a better place because he's no longer causing terror and grief.
Form: Rhyme

The Hitchcock Thriller

Some love too little, some love too long,
some they answer the riddle but fail to move on
some laugh and  others cry
when truest feelings have been denied
Some do the act with a show of tears,
surrendering everything showing their fears
And some without a sigh;
they just let their pride die
For some men kill the things they love, 
power given from up above
Yet each man does deny.
power from heaven they devise

Some kill love when in their youth,
some kill with abuse
And some when they grow old;
in the end the scam unfolds
Some smother with the hand of greed,
turning away from the hand of need
Because of lust for gold;
the way of love had turned old
The evil use their tongue because,
of vengence to discover
It takes love where it’s cold
and evil thought it mutters

But men who kill the girl they love,
and claim a passion from heaven above
have a story to be heard; 
lets not listen to one word
Some do it with a callous look
with a  wisdom from the good book
Some with a bitter word;
and with some with passion never heard,
The tyrant does it with his fist,
and serial killer with his list
The weak man with a sword.
a genious that was bored


(A collaboration by Elizabeth Wesley and John H Loving III)
Form:

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