Strangler Poems

Captain America 23:2

Rocks Rico wore the turtle suit
his disguise hid the morbid truth

That he was known as the strangler
and lived his life with anger

When crooks ran from the cops
he would give them refuge non-stop

But they couldn't stay hidden long 
as they went to the mardi-gras for crime and song

And their rampage went aflaw
when Captain America came and saw...

That breaking the turtle shell
released everyone from his spell

Now Rico is behind bars
and Cap and Bucky are the stars

The Frog Strangler

The Frog Strangler
(Idiom for a torrential rain)
Miracle Man
5/2/2022

With little variant, rain came straight down, 
winds whisper was so faint it couldn’t be heard.
Bar ditches, now so full of water a frog could drown,
but by this rain my spirit remains undeterred.

Though frogs are amphibians much unlike a toad,
the old story has it that they do often strangle.
Yet I find no remains where high water has flowed,
just another mystery for my mind to untangle.

In our 2 acre yard, low spots, “like ponds” stand full, 
when will someone be able to cut the grass once more.
Our rain gauge now appears to be nearing brimful,
thoughts exit strangling frogs for a mowing chore.

One Loop Short of a Shoelace

the new shirt with an unironed crease
the slice of thorn against thumb
ear against the bass speaker
whispering at the shadows
hoping something appears
My business is are
Hold the lunar for a tic
my mad has never been ness
no iota of the id
people are
strangled
if your a strangler
your faces are ugly
did you get them on loan
We of the ird
Pass me by
as you stare at the street
one of us was lucky we didn't meet

An Emerald Pond

Coastline of the peat swamp is obscuring. 
In addition, the shadow of a lone angler.  
Water lilies turn purple as the sun is setting.

Avoid being stung by sedge and strangler.   
I'm up to my knees in murky shallow. 
In addition, the shadow of a lone angler.  

Trout floated through echoes as a sharp arrow. 
A crisp unsettle overlaid by blurring sunshine. 
I'm up to my knees in murky, shallow. 

Midnight sheep are hollering in the whine. 
With the lowing of a cow from a distance. 
A crisp unsettle overlaid by blurring sunshine.

 Being on the verge of calamity is intense. 
The space among us and our world. 
With the lowing of a cow from a distance.  

The delay has harmed our minuscule pride. 
Coastline of the peat swamp is obscuring. 
The space among us and our world. 
Water lilies turn purple as the sun is setting.


Written: October 17, 2021

Morning Gone Wrong

Comfort, some say, a cup of joe,
Coming to breakfast still yawning
Mornings’ pleasures the day dawning.

A restful sleep, ready to go,
Planning my work, include some play,
Eager to face another day.

I find my car covered with snow,
A clear downer as one can see
Leaving me with an urge to flee.

Seems now my day is starting slow,
Someone has borrowed my scraper
I dislike this thoughtless caper.

Wind blast causes my face to glow,
Or, is it the flush of anger?
I become the local strangler!

Comfort, some say, a cup of joe,
A restful sleep, ready to go,
I find my car covered with snow,
Seems now my day is starting slow,
Wind blast causes my face to glow. 

written July 16, 2021

I, Zombie, Part Ix: the Returning

Here I go again
Dancing the Monster’s fancy
Until the curtain

Final curtain call
Chancing all my sanity
Final curtain fall

I went off my meds
Let the Monster out instead
To control my head

Daemon’s back as well
He tells me drinking is swell
As far as I’ll tell

“Five o’clock somewhere”
Daemon whispers in my ear
I unchain him there

Inside this old box
This rude cube contains my brains
Chained and bound with locks

I know not myself
This thing becoming again
I’m damned; I’m in hell

Feeds on what it needs
The killer; the strangler
Of good thoughts and deeds

The mind re-succumbs
Becomes the Doppelganger
Bereft of life, numb

Zombie I've become
Again, like the living dead
Acting, not thinking

All willpower’s lost
Price paid, but greater the cost
Wind swept; tempest tossed

Back on the dread-mill
Mind rerunning the race lost…
Can’t keep my head still

The revisiting
Monster back on the attack
Nothing kills this thing

Daemon’s there as well
Rejoining the dance macabre
Going back to hell

Sinister turning
Echoes the words, “We are back”
Can’t stop returning…

A Glandular Strangler We Should Deter

A Glandular Strangler We Should Deter

Greeted general area that is glandular,
When he started becoming a strangler;
Grotesque glands;
Spastic hands,
Who we should be sure to try to deter.

Jim Horn

Rest In Pieces

They once met upon a poetry site,
shared romantic words by computer light.
His poems of rose pedals and floating doves,
her verses of broken hearts and jilted love.

Those touching comments soon lit a fire,
innocent flirting now burning desire.
Their public secrets fanned the embers 
and played out before all the members.

Alas unable to contain their lust,
to finally embrace became a must.
Soon they soupmailed their secret plot,
to meet in the nearest Wal-Mart lot.

What happened next no one can fix,
for her light was turned off at Motel Six.
It seems her tall dark poetic stranger,
turned out to be the "Trailer Park Strangler".

1/4/19

Together Still

Far away from our little village
In the middle of green paddy field
On the small mound the banyan tree was
Beneath calm and sweet shadow of green leaves
On the lap of this old giant tree
You and I were only there for our twin loving soul
Strangler figs were spreading all around of us
Flock of sparrows and tailor-birds were came to play with figs
Through the chirping and far loving speech of flute
My head was on your lovely lap
You cared my black silky hair by your soft finger
You drew fingers line on my face
Your lips penned best graph on my lips
My nose smelled fragrance of jasmine, tuberose, gardenia from you

And now 
In this house you and I are alone
Balcony touches the green leaves of coconut tree
No parrots, no nightingales, no sparrows are around of us
Cacophonies of crows make us tired
My bald head is on your lovely lap
Now your old loving fingers care my white beard 
Although no hair of juvenescent 
The head and shrunk face still get your love
Kiss comes with tears of old age
As if we live as cast away dove


-October 22, 2018 Chattogram



////
written on the sense of my old grandparents

The Strangler Untold

This is my story, the strangler untold.
I, Al DeSalvo strangled 13 women totaled.
I struck within the night of day,
leaving not one clue astray.
Confessing to these crimes brought me fame,
but burdened my family with unending shame.
Sitting in my prison cell,
deep inside I hide a secret only I can tell.
People everywhere still have doubt.
Is the strangler really in prison, or still roaming about?
Murdered in my prison cell,
my secret I can now never tell.

Under the Diving Board

„hurry up! bring the holy water
or I’ll scratch myself out of existence“
sincerely
your gentle strangler...

...that’s the end of this ecstatic story
about the seasick captain
about the Laplace’s demon
caught in a bigot whirlpool
THE END in black capital letters
a true descent into vanity

but there are still bills to pay
and pills to take
while you still don’t want to get old
vanishing with the rising vapors
of dotted tea-pot each day
mourning over the Laika’s last journey
in a dampness of the cold bakery
and the weakness is getting stronger
by the creaky roadside hut 
where the fearful sand witch dwells
cursing the dolphins and their mothers
with her osseous lexicon
and sapphire ravines in her eyes
but hey, we’re still sinking
still orbiting the godhead
and that’s all

Pic Motifs: Visual 2

In the dead of this cold foggy night,
is this the spirit of Jack the Ripper
or the Boston Strangler prowling 
the silent streets...
or someone’s imagination running wild?



~11/16/17
~Pic Motifs Contest by nette onclaud
~Word count:29

In the Grave She Stays

up close a face, death
a strangler, choking my breath,
here you are, my wife says,
time's up, your crime pays,
in the grave, she stays.

Worried By Worry

Worried by worry
haunted by my own shadow
in a strangler-world I live!

He came, sat on the throne
for no reason he stuck in mud
around the throne

But left the throne so hot
hangmen so tired
granaries so empty
faces so rippled
rats so hungry
that even cool wind
and rain making clouds
were too timid
to fly over our nation!

Underway

The future never comes
The past is never done
The junction is where webs are spun
Then duly sewed undone
The frequency, where the free can see
Doesn't arise from your eyes
Nor vibrates down the road 
Or learned in code
Or spoke nor spake
Nor eroded, loaded, coated or devoted
In the wireless web
Draping over each atom's head
Where nothing's said or dead
Lies the wheel 
Spinning out secrets concealed
Where nothing is revealed
I don't know how it all started 
Or how it ends
I'm older now
Then I will be then
When the web unwinds 
And the weaver resigns
The train of time
Plugs along in our minds
As if it never happened
To some it will madden
To some it will gladden
The fabric is untouched
A glossy thought
A hollow crutch
The strangler of our steps
An overseeing clutch
Forever underway

• Short Strangler Poems
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