Murderess Poems | Examples

maybe they are all mad

murder happened back in 1892, so it's not like relatives are still mad, right?
But maybe they are all mad in Falls River, Massachusetts
Maybe they were always mad
Maybe Lizzie Borden was not even the culprit
All we know is
that someone has taken the head of this statue
a statue of one of the most famous
"maybe a female murderess" in the USA
Lizzie Borden.
What date was the head taken?  Someone asked me.
August the 4th, same date as the murdrers
of Lizzie's father and stepmother in 1892.

maybe they are all mad

murder happened back in 1892, so it's not like relatives are still mad, right?
But maybe they are all mad in Falls River, Maryland
Maybe they were always mad
Maybe Lizzie Borden was not even the culprit
All we know is
that someone has taken the head of this statue
a statue of one of the most famous
"maybe a female murderess" in the USA
Lizzie Borden.
What date was the head taken?  Someone asked me.
August the 4th, same date as the murdrers
of Lizzie's father and stepmother in 1892.

Where The Never Borns Find a Home

                
                     11/23/2023

Souls of the unborn, caressed by the meadows’ gentle winds.
Seeking their mothers arms, for they were her angelic, blessed
Blossoming,beautiful twins!


Mother is vaping Fentanyl in a bar, looking for a new, hot lover?
A murderess, in expensive tight jeans, sweater…hiding her
deadly deed, under cover.


Not alone, she, her sisters, tired, at the morning‘s Pro-Choice rally.
Were cheering on death of souls to be, laughing, ever-so heartily in.
rat-filled alleys,


Remember this…?” Father, forgive them, for they know what they do!”
Both men and their lovers might regret this …years down the road!!

They Know Not What They Do

Souls of the unborn, caressed by the meadows’ gentle winds.
Seeking their mothers arms, for they were
blessed, beautiful twins!


She’s vaping Fentanyl in a bar, looking for a new, hot lover?
A murderess, in tight jeans and sweater, her
deadly deed, under cover.


Not alone, she….her sisters from the morning‘s Pro-Choice rally,
Cheering on death of souls to be, in a phantasmagoric. 
rat-filled alley.


                 11/28/2022

Angela Lansbury

Angela Lansbury has perished after living for nearly ninety-seven years.
In 1948, she starred in "State Of The Union" and "The Three Musketeers".
When she starred as a murderess in "Please Murder Me!", her co-star was Raymond Burr.
She is best known for starring in "Murder, She Wrote" and people will always remember her.
She starred in "Death On The Nile", "Lace" and "The Mirror Crack'd".
Angela became famous because talent wasn't something she lacked.
Many will remember her as "Jessica Fletcher" which was a role that she portrayed for many years.
Angela is dead and when her friends and family attend her funeral, they will grieve and shed tears. 

[Dedicated to Angela Lansbury (1925-2022) who died on October 11, 2022]

Steamy and Romantic

O, to write verse steamy and romantic
      I perceived as a treat semantic
 
   Alas and alack, 'twas an anvil's press
      A sea-wreck, I, of a murderess

The Private Eye and the Femme Fatale

Pulp fiction had nothing on him. He was a man’s man. A protagonist
of his own making, self-reliant, and self-assured.  Marlow kept his wisecracks
to the bare minimum when meeting a new client.  Dames were not as compliant as they used to be, and they carried their own derringers now. 
More dangerous than ten years ago.  He leaned back in his chair, enjoying a swallow of nicotine from his favorite cigarette.  He had heard this woman was stacked. Mrs. What? He reached for his paper. Mrs. Stanton. She sounded stacked, a real femme fatale. A harsh knock came on his outside door.
not a woman’s knock, and yet, there she was.

			“she’s a murderess
                         This mattered not to him now
                         Private eye smitten”




Written 4-29-2019
Contest: Pick a title, volume 4 – Haibun
Prompt #2: The private eye and the femme fatale
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh

Humble Grandmother

humble grandmother
unassumingly flawless …
murderess clearly


Written 3-18-2019
Contest: Writing Challenge 3 March 2019 Senryu
Sponsor: Dear Heart

What Have You Lost

backpacks, rugs, shoes, a couch or two, lots of junk from a junk drawer,
what kind of junk?
Just general junk.
Can you itemize it?
pennies,
scissors,
toothbrushes,
matches,
pens, 
eyeglasses,
toothpaste,
combs,
dog chews,
nickles,
necklaces,
rings,
thread,
dimes,
a quarter or two,
balloons,
Scotch tape.
Not an off brand? Scotch?
I stare at the imaginary appraiser in my daydream.
What would I do in a fire?
I guess I had better never have one.
Or I might become a murderess as well as an arsonist.

Sunset

The sun slit his wrists
Murderess Moon just watches
I bet she did it

That Haunted House

I bought a house that nobody else wanted.
I got it dirt cheap because it was haunted.
It was once owned by a murderess and nobody could trust her.
Things got so bad in that house that I called the Ghostbusters.
But those four women came running out of that house as fast as they could.
I thought that hiring those women was a great idea but it didn't do any good.
Everybody who lived in that house ended up in a bad shape.
The last straw came when the ghost cornered me and I was raped.
I burned down that house for the insurance because things were so creepy and odd.
But the insurance company found out and now I've been sentenced to prison for fraud.

Throwing Stones

Our distant cousin murders the English language every single time she trills.
WOYt is white, and Blah is black, and her long A’s can barely maneuver these hills.
AmbyEance means ambulance, and her R’s are a pure musician’s nemesis.  
Uh-oh, here she comes, hiding behind a language couple, and she’s fully dressed.
Has she seen us? This cousin who has no idea that she’s a murderess through and through?
Oh, hi darling. We’d invite you to stay, but there’s only room in this restaurant for me and him, and these other two.

Madame Caillaux, Part 4 of 7

(Now we hear from the murderess.  She explains 
that she killed Calmette because he published
love letters which she had written to her husband,
a minister in the government.  It is true that she
made her own way to the police station, having
given her word that she would answer charges.
"Le Gratin" is the "upper crust" of French society.)


4. Henriette Caillaux

He got his just come-uppance. Ça suffit.
What else is there to make an issue of?
Oh, very well: you wish to know my plea.
My plea is, I'm a woman, and in love.

I didn't leave the scene. I waited there.
I am a lady, I'd done nothing wrong.
My attitude, you think, is debonaire?
I said I'd keep my word. I came along.

What kind of scoundrel publishes the letters
that pass between two lovers? Tell me that!
He sinned against our love, against his betters:
The cur deserved to die, I'll tell you flat!

The jurors? Do they tipple, make love? Dance?
They are red-blooded Frenchmen? You will see.
Le Gratin, c'est Le Gratin. France is France.
No jury will convict. Take it from me.

When someone's out to damage and disparage,
When all the chips are down, this is a marriage.

Murderess

I'm angry and I'm in a great deal of distress.
I have learned that my wife is a murderess.
We've had four babies, two sons and two daughters.
By the time she was through, all four were slaughtered.
I didn't know she was killing them, I thought they died of SIDS.
I am both shocked and horrified because of what my wife did.
I knew that it was murder when we lost baby number four.
I couldn't stay with that woman so I walked out the door.
It was so hard for me to accept the truth.
I would go to the cops but I have no proof.
What really angers me is that she shows no remorse.
I'm free of her, I'm in the process of getting a divorce.
She needs to get help but sadly, she will not.
If she remarries and kills another baby, I hope that she gets caught.

(This is a fictional poem.)

Page 5 Rg

The town folk were in shock                       Page 5
As they saw blood run like water
As the mob set out to kill
All their sons, wife's and daughters

The men of the town 
Drew their guns and started shooting
All the murderess men
And the others that were looting

Like shooting fish in a barrel
The mob became depleted
But there were so many 
They could not be defeated 

By the end of the day
Not one soul was left standing
As the buzzard circled round
And the Sun remained demanding

As their blood ran like a river 
Down the streets onto the plains
Then,  and only then
Did the sky,  begin to rain

The End   almost !

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