Long Serial killers Poems
Long Serial killers Poems. Below are the most popular long Serial killers by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Serial killers poems by poem length and keyword.
How did we get to where we are,
America - the one undimming shining star,
A land of freedom, of unbounded pride
Where no one needed run and hide
For their religion or mere thought,
Democracy - the very heart of what was taught.
Now the Media drums a beat
That too many rush to heed,
Politicians seem at war
Spewing discord to their core,
Division their concocted art
Wrenching the rest of us apart.
Pressure groups with voices loud
Control the stage as if endowed,
We the masses listen stunned
Outmaneuvered and outgunned,
All too late we see the light
As our cities fall to blight.
Police leaving by the score,
Inner cities full of gore,
Death and Drugs partners in crime
The serial killers of our time,
Those we elect wringing their hands
Caving in to shrill demands.
Social media runs amok
Trampling discourse in it's muck,
Faceless voices spewing hate
Leaving victims to their fate,
Pervading every corner of our life
Their tool of choice inciting strife.
Is it too late may we well ask
To tear apart this vile death mask,
Restoring that for which our father's fought
A way of life worked for and not bought,
The very fruit of land well sown
The purest form of liberty our world has ever known.
The 50’s people are in a diorama
behind a Perspex window,
for the most part they are cheerful,
they cut grass with push mowers,
swim in circles in above ground pools;
by and large they are not serial killers.
The museum is new, colorful and shiny.
The 50’s people wave mechanically
at all on-lookers.
A young questioner asks
why the 50’s people are not all dead?
A reasonable question
which the handler deflects
with a long tale about purple dinosaurs.
The kids are getting bored,
handlers usher them into a cafeteria,
where two 40’s people linger over
a tasteless, sanitized meal.
Youths rib poke each other and sneer.
The two 40’s people have no diorama
they have forgotten how to make one,
worst still, their handler died
the same year Barney went extinct.
Turn on the telle watch wives with knives
Murder on CCTV, victims lose their lives
Turn on the telle, no one write a script
There’s a post-mortem in a darkened crypt
Cops chasing crims, drunken street fights
Nothing to entertain what a load of ****
Turn on the telle, comedy nowhere to be seen
Instead, Botox tarts and live sex on your screen
Let’s turn on the telle, killer by the sea
A victim in the lift on secondhand TV
Let’s turn on the telle, Katie’s dirty mansion
Faces of the dead and worship of Charles Manson
Let’s turn on the telle, bound to be something good
A serial killers voice over, dating in the nud’
Let’s turn on the telle, bodies in black bags
Dumped in the river, by a couple of psycho lads
Let’s turn on the telle, see how he cut her throat
Battered her to death, on his flash speedboat
Let’s turn on the telle, get some new ideas
How to maim, torture, kill, down through the years
Let’s turn on the telle, see how the Kray's ruled
Sixty-nine channels of murder, has it got you fooled?
David Cox 09/02/22
Firstly this child got close enough to know they were blind
Two he’s chasing mice(just like his hero Ed)
I mean the signs are there
Look at Mary
Let her play in the fields
and she returns singing of sunflowers
What was that one last week
Rember putting birds in a pie
Personally I would get him tested
Put safety locks on all your knives
Name me a serial killer who doesn’t know twinkle twinkle
Let’s create something that we can hang directly above our defenceless child face
And we will call it something fun…mobile
Yeah let’s make it move
Could a baby paint a house…
Deep ends
How hard I through this work
No serial killers were harmed or babies
What was Mary the opposite of
Who the fills their garden with shells to make it.
Checklist 1.Earth
2. Manure
3. Where did all these maid come from
Is a sheep made of paper a tisewe
We
A
L
L
If you just sign your family name just on the line marked
And his first name on the line after
and you quite sure about this mr Dumpty
No takeies backies
Not an egg
So what was so special about this person
That an army was sent to fix him
Question 9. Why did he break into pieces
So basically he died
and we are warning our children about height
This guy sat on wall
Fell somehow broke into pieces
And a mad king sent his troops
to glue the eviserate together doesn’t have the same ring two to or too
You choooose
Sorrry some letttterss have bean escape ping
Form myy otter wrks
Knight.
Used to think rain was fired
by rain bows
boughs break
C
……r
…………a
……d
………….l
………e
Crying milk over cats in stilts
Do bygones come from Bygonia(let it go)
It’s all water under the bridge
If it was over it would be a flood
Biting the hatchet
Bury the bullet
Do oiled witches
Fly off the handle
Does that mean you can rub someone the right way
Are astronauts seldom under the weather
If you cut all corners do you get a circle
W….o…….o…….l
iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii
If you turned a blind eye wouldn’t the seeing eye turn as well
Do serial killers warn people by giving them a heads up
If you never looked back would you eventually go round the world to where you were originally
I can’t remember but I think I gave someone a piece of my mind the
step
I think this is your stop
How is it possible, to be "awful" and "amazing" at the same time?
Please don't find me "annoying" as I ponder your "grim" and "gruesome".
There is something quite "delightful" about seeing you so "frightened"!
It is "fortunate" that we crossed paths, "finding" you is most certainly a sign.
For you I have erected a "monolith" here under the blue moon.
At its very centre I will look upon your pure white "oval" face.
I will know pleasure as I gaze into your stunning "opaque" eyes.
It is so very wonderful to see how you are "opening" up to me!
I will not "patronize" you for you will be the "pride" of my garden.
This is merely a simple "prelude" to our very precious time together.
I know removing your face will seem "vicious", but know l will be gentle.
If I'm kind you won't be "vindictive"! Instead you'll love me and I'll be "Victorious"!
For Shadow's "Make a Poem *2Contest."
I used quotes for the words because my iPad doesn't allow me to bold words on Poetry Soup.
I wrote this piece from a serial killers perspective, I guess I've watched to many episodes of "Criminal Minds".
In the United States,
152 serial killers
are responsible
for 12,746 deaths
was not the first thing
I wanted to read
this sunny
Sunday morning,
but the news feed
had other ideas
and teaches how easy
it is for life to fall
to pieces~
it ever preaches
how a human hyena
searches for prey,
and no speeches
how we should pray!
The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked: who can know it? I the LORD search the heart, I try the reins, even to give every man according to his ways, and according to the fruit of his doings. ~Jeremiah 17:9-10 KJV
Written By: D. Collins 12/3/21
Brain cells are the cause of the stuff we're in.
Where obvious individuals don't get treatment.
The true instigators are now on the run.
They enticed it to happen and got ghost on their son.
Looking at his parents, Youngblood has been jacked for life.
Two grimey individuals joined as husband and wife.
They're like serial killers, where son puts in the work.
An exact re-enactment of the "Chainsaw Massacre."
The youth didn't know what was being passed to him.
The genes of real monsters we call family and kin.
Brain cells are what causes a person to react.
But, parents are always supposed to have your back.
I always believed
at some point in time
due to some hidden
moral rhythm and rhyme...
a word triggered memory
would rob you
of that tranquility
that you've wrapped
around yourself
tightly
leaving no room
for truth to touch
and remind you
of the pain I still feel
the pain you won't heal
I always believed
you'd finally come around
with no fanfare
no whisper of sound
I'd feel your presence and know
some inner longing for amends
baptized by remembered virtue
had brought you to me
and the pain would turn to glee
when I'd hear your words:
"Let all be well.
Come out from that hell"
Well...
I'm still waiting
cause the hardest lesson
I've had to learn
is that people can maim and blame
do their utmost to shame
and....have no remorse
leaving one with no recourse
with no conscience to appease
they do as they please
while psychopaths are locked up
serial killers face their dues
but serial tongue lashers
serenity crashers
get to walk away scot-free
makes no sense to me
you see...
I always believed
one day...
you'd finally
feel the need
you'd want to be freed
from the memory of wrong
and you'd finally be strong
strong enough
to ask forgiveness
of
me
am I a fool to believe?
Eileen Manassian
A POETESS’ MURDERED LIFE
This is for Renee Nicole Macklin Good!
-Poets of the World
The gunshots of ICE (Trump's anti-immigrant serial killers)
Rumble in the air of Minneapolis, Minnesota (USA)
Filling people with panic, terror, and fear.
They have witnessed the death
Of a precious poet, a writer, wife, mother, and aspiring guitarist.
Winner of the prestigious award from
The Academy of American Poets for her poem titled:
"On Learning to Dissect Pig Fetuses"
She died from two precise shots.
Death that the mad evangelical
Criminal and fascist Capitol Hill man
Applauds with the hands of all his henchmen
Who venerate and worship his wealthy cock
With two balls that he wants to resemble, no doubt
Those of the Mongol warrior
And conqueror Genghis Khan
Who unified the nomadic tribes
Of this ethnic group from northern Asia
Founder and first Great Khan of the Mongol Empire
Whose Nicole’s death the republicans applaud and cheer
Swallowing all the lies they tell about her death.
Perhaps because she was a woman and a poetess
A fighter for the dignity and freedom of her community
The madman of the Capitol Hill has raised his neck
To take part, without being present
Dancing his “dance of the disabled”
For the death of an innocent, beautiful woman
A defender of human rights.
The “madman of the Capitol Hill” is afraid
Because he thinks that
She and her people will take away his empire
Leaving him dethroned and a mere pittance.
Perhaps, also, because of her extraordinary poem
Awarded in its day well deserved
That the whole country now recites
And will recite forever
Remembering her
So that the poem and she
Will not fall into oblivion.
Now, this madman in the Capitol
Deafening the ears of the people
With: War! War! Or: Peace! Peace!
Death to immigrants and adversaries!
He won't light a candle
On the makeshift altar dedicated to her
But instead wants to march to Greenland
To screw over the Vikings or whoever
By dropping the atomic bomb on them
Or buying their rare earth elements
With money acquired through slavery
As he himself boasts
Dancing his repeated dance of a disabled person
Which, like a dense fog
Dispels his murderous and criminal eyes.