Ripper Poems - Poems about Ripper

Is it nature or nurture This Larry wants to know As a genetic researcher His life has taken a blow Could he be related To the beast of Whitechapel Is his life ill-fated Something which he must grapple His ghostly grandparents say it’s true As a researcher what can Larry do The family gene he must eliminate Is it genes or love or hate Why did Jack...

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You’ve heard of Brady and Hindley And I'm sure Poll Pot too You've heard of Fred and Rose West and the evil that they do Jack the Ripper had a son Did he follow in his steps? Find out about the boy And learn what he did best But this time there’s a change From Jack, the carnage carried on William and Emily are their...

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Through the streets of Whitechapel A monster roamed them all He left behind a history Many to enthral But who knew the romance The lover behind this affray He may wield a knife but in fact Was Jack gay? A romantic, emasculated by a wife A sexual experience Affected him for life Read about the romance The...

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Jack the Ripper has not mended his ways Continuing search for unwary prey This time around, his weapon is poison Extinguishing lives of poor, his mission ‘The weak must perish’, Jack the Ripper says Homeless vagrants at food bank, to God pray Oblivious that blue skies have turned grey Their food today, prepared by a demon Jack the Ripper Panic sets in as these...

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I've spent the evening hunting, as I'm wont to do and choosing for tonight an older lass, I hold the shop door open while she passes through and as it closes, watch her in the glass Her face is plain, no trace of paint unlines her skin, her matted hair is gathered in a bun Beneath the shabby dress, her frame...

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Wanton women of Whitechapel Desperate and destitute Weakened from want Shrunken stomachs barren of bread Dying from disease in dingy dosshouses Selling themselves on the streets for shillings to buy beer, a bed for the night or a bonny new bonnet to enable them to appear more enticing to men with money to spend A woeful and wretched existence worn down by the world envisioning escape Evil born...

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Although intoxicated within ethereal madness; bound within the chains of this soulless prison. I'm desperately in love with this Gothic sadness; whilst staring into a fog of disheartened reason. Walking and stalking through dark rancid streets; stopping for pints, now the pain's finally receding. Through smoke and crowds; reverent and discreet. A bottle to the abyss, now heartless and bleeding. Watch the frightened...

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Whitechapel, you must watch for me. Your streets unlit, they are dark and dreary. Those ladies of night go passing by. I’ve chosen my victim, the one to die. I Lurk, I follow, I know this place. I watch this woman, I see her face. I View this wench as she plies her trade. I cannot wait to show my blade. The blood...

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I Jumped up suddenly out of my bed With Jack the ripper spinning in my head And the word cabinet kept floating in my bed I had a very serious message to deliver But I don't know who to tell because it felt improper My heart was pounding and I felt like vomiting I hurried outside and jogged around the circle I...

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Tacita leaned in close and lowered her voice a tad. “So tell me, Jack. What’s your real name?" "You don’t really want to know who I am. You just think you do. Aye, the public loves its monsters – as long as we keep our distance. Nessie and me, we know the score. It’s not us...

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Aaron Kosminski, you were not Jack the Ripper as many would have thought. You have not kept a dissecting knife under your coat as Raskolnikov had kept the ax. You were not addicted to opium. You liked the verse, The Hound of Heaven and that’s Finis Coronat Opus - the violence did not seized your...

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Gladys was a devote Baptist and a Sweet old lady who never had anything Bad to say about anybody so when this Young man moved into the neighborhood They said you can just look into his eyes And see he's nothing but bad news but Gladys said now didn't our Lord say he Who is without sin cast the first stone? Little did...

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Shadow-clad, softly he treads, a harbinger of death, and he's out hunting. Stilettos in a leather belt, his weapons keen and gleaming in the gaslight; skulking in concealment there he waits. Patience; his bloodlust can't be hurried. He hears footsteps on the cobblestones, a harlot leaves her trick and heads for home. Silently he sneaks...

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The man in the alley is insane. Syphilis eats at his brain. All dressed in black, he is ready to attack. He stalks in the dark of night, trying to stay out of sight. A certain type he wants to find. Whores,filthy whores screams in his mind ! A door opens at a nearby Inn. Laughter for a moment and silence again. The click-clack of...

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Reaching to the sky in terror, another helpless victim of an Inconceivable crime cries out for mercy. Blood curdles as screams Pierce the night of London town. Who is the madman on the loose Preying on the defenseless? The answer comes from hell… Evil is lurking in every shadow. Do not close your eyes. The nightmare is...

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