If a man has his throat cut in Paris, it's a murder. If 50,000 people are murdered in the east, it is a question.
quote by Victor Hugo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Murdered By Their Tongues
Threatened by a mentalness,
That spreading gossip did.
And murdered by their tongues.
Whatever between them did exist,
That ruined their happiness...
And long loving relationships,
Has been murdered by their tongues.
Murdered by their tongues,
Abandoned good deeds are left undone.
In big numbers.
Murdered by their tongues,
Some people had to run...
To find their comfort.
Murdered by their tongues,
Some choose to begin to run...
To find their comfort,
And unencumbered by the numbers.
They've been murdered by their tongues.
Stubborn these people,
Who've been murdered by their tongues.
Unconscious people,
Who are murdered by their tongues.
These fools are equal,
Who will murder anyone with their wicked tongues.
Murdered by their tongues,
Some people had to run...
To find their comfort.
Threatened by a mentalness,
That spreading gossip did.
And murdered by their tongues.
Whatever between them did exist,
That ruined their happiness...
And long loving relationships,
Has been murdered by their tongues.
They've been murdered by their tongues.
Stubborn these people,
Who've been murdered by their tongues.
Unconscious people,
Who are murdered by their tongues.
These fools are equal,
Who will murder anyone with their wicked tongues.
Murdered by their tongues,
Some choose to begin to run...
To find their comfort,
And unencumbered by the numbers.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Knife
Slit and
Slither knife
Penetrate in phallic push
To perforate the pulse of tissues in the flesh
Slice a vein to drain the unsuspecting victim
E’er they bleed and plea
Their scream
Of death
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
murder
murder murder
murder murder
murder murder murder murder murder murder
murder murder murder murder murder murder murder
murder murder murder murder murder murder
murder murder
murder murder
murder
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poems Are Made For Beautiful Things
POEMS ARE MADE FOR BEAUTIFUL THINGS
(Written for the Ilui Neshamah of Rabbi Gabriel and Rivka Holtzberg who were murdered in the Chabad House in Mumbai November 2008)
Poems are made for beautiful things-
Not for murder and for terror -
Not for cruel sudden deaths-
Not for hatred which kills without question-
And justifies itself,
By some absolute inhumane ideal.
Poems are made for life
Not Death-
We Jews want to live,
And they the Suicide- bomber- people,
to Murder their way to Eternity.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Premeditation
Oh blade you'll warm tonight!
Awash in crimson-purple flows,
Your sheen will dull with aching flesh:
Palpating anatomic mounds
Caressing, dancing, writhing round
Your metal form-
Whetted ‘gainst a lonely bone,
Then to probe the pounding, begging heart.
And all the while the prey will howl
Before they crumple; greet the mud-
A taut and unbelieving jowl
Will open out for giving blood-
A vent from down below,
Once a brutal show
Of metal in the man.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
murder
murder murder
murder murder
murder murder murder murder murder murder
murder murder murder murder murder murder murder
murder murder murder murder murder murder
murder murder
murder murder
murder
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Murder Kills
You murdered the perfect family
You don't know why
Law enforcement is after you
You don't know what to do
Don't hide
It won't get you anywhere
Face your fears
Tell them you were depressed
Cause you had nothing
Tell them you were angry
Cause no one understood you
Tell them you were upset
And never meant it
Trust me
They’ll listen
They'll understand
You murdered the Mommy
You murdered the Daddy
You murdered the perfect baby
Didn’t murder the bad baby
Cause that baby was you
You try to hide
There's no place to hide
You try to run
There’s no place to run
You can't get anywhere
You try to pray to God
But he's not listening
He forgot about you long ago
There's only one thing to do
It’s your worst fear
Wakes you at night
Makes you sweat and shake
Makes every hair on your body stand up
Your last resort
It's the only thing you got
Said murder couldn’t fix anything
Said suicide wouldn't fix anything
But deep down it does
We all know it does
So this is how it ends
Suicide ended the death of a killer
poem by Erin Massiello
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Murder Or Be Murdered
Don't be a murder like me
For you shall see
That you will pay a fee
Not a fee of money
For money is funny
But a fee of pain
For your blood will drain
Murder or be murdered
Is murder the lesser of the two evils?
poem by Lauren Kerr
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Love Is Murder
The biggest murder of all time is the murder of love
thus making love a crime that all people should be charged guilty with
especially after marriage because love is what makes people question their lover's trust and their ability to be faithful
Love makes people go mad with jealousy if their significant other looks at another person
love is what destroys a person as a whole not just their heart
and in the end Love can be so dangerous that it could kill people
quite literally which is why Love is Evil and also why Love Is Murder
poem by Zackory Kzeminski
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Insane Culture Of Mass-Murder” (The Billion-Dollar Question)
We must all stay aware…..,
Of the Insane Culture Of Mass-Murder….,
It’s been increasing for years….,
The Insane Culture Of Mass-Murder ….! ! !
Can’t dare turn our backs….,
On the Insane Culture Of Mass-Murder ….,
It’ll sneak up and kill us…,
The Insane Culture Of Mass-Murder ….! ! !
It’s hard to believe and conceive….
The Insane Culture Of Mass-Murder ….,
That’s why so many are blind….,
To the Insane Culture Of Mass-Murder …! ! !
We’ve seen the bloody attacks…..,
Of the Insane Culture Of Mass-Murder ….,
So we must face the facts….,
On the Insane Culture Of Mass-Murder ….! ! !
Yes they’re after us all…,
The Insane Culture Of Mass-Murder ….,
Their radical religion condones it….,
The Insane Culture Of Mass-Murder ….! ! !
Can we control it or stop it….,
So it won’t go any further….? ? ?
That’s the billion-dollar question….,
On the Insane Culture Of Mass-Murder …! ! !
poem by Trade Martin
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2 Prince, Another One I Wrote
Murder is losing its mind, I am losing my patience
Chris Hani was murdered on 10 April
Political reasons are speculations
Speculation is a political reason
An African political prince
Was butched motive is mysterious
The brutal murder is a fatal error
This world is unjust
The land I see was sad
And the soil I walk in felt the pain
Lucky Dube was murdered on 19 October
An African prince of reggae was assassinated
Political reasons are speculations
Speculation is a political reason
Still the cause murder is baffling
Butchered for the love of the nation
And passion for country men
poem by Jacques Sprenkie Mateya
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Reliance On Murder
Your reliance on my vision instils murder,
The murder comes from the dirty mind.
Murder is the culmination of centuries of work
And fulfilling is the question, so wonderful is the crime.
May we relish the golden feeling attached to this trick
We see around like the sun and its planets are also around.
Rely on them for your basic needs,
Your needs for knowledge will spring back.
Then murder of the dragons is even not desired,
Even the massacre has betrayed the man of special virtue.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Claws loosening
One murdered a man
Who cuckolded him.
One murdered his spouse
To live with his paramour.
One murdered her spouse
To flee with her lover.
One murdered a widow
For her liaison with his father.
One murdered a man
For his affair with one’s widow mother.
Crimes of sex are not uncommon.
Why are they rampant now?
Claws loosened and instincts emboldened.
22.06.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Paris, Please Accept Me, As A Human Refugee
paris................
o paris................
Y paris................
the patience, eating the happiness
the pain, eating the patience
and the pain, eating the pain
I AM SICK, paris
treat me, sister
paris................
o paris................
Y paris................
exile, on my papers
restrained, ..
in my lines
so free me, paris
treat me, paris
I BELONG TO YOU, ..
sister
my home, the colours of MONET
my room, is a water flower
my air..
is the scent of FRANCE
and my refuge..
is a place by RENOIR shrine
so take me paris..
as your..
renoirian..
REFUGEE.
poem by Ahmed Khaled
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Dire Wolf
In the timbers to fennario, the wolves are running round,
The winter was so hard and cold, froze ten feet neath the ground.
Dont murder me, I beg of you, dont murder me. please, dont murder me.
I sat down to my supper, twas a bottle of red whisky,
I said my prayers and went to bed, thats the last they saw of me.
Dont murder me, I beg of you, dont murder me. please, dont murder me.
When I awoke, the dire wolf, six hundred pounds of sin,
Was grinning at my window, all I said was come on in.
Dont murder me, I beg of you, dont murder me. please, dont murder me.
The wolf came in, I got my cards, we sat down for a game.
I cut my deck to the queen of spades, but the cards were all the same.
Dont murder me, I beg of you, dont murder me. please, dont murder me.
In the backwash of fennario, the black and bloody mire,
The dire wolf collects his dues, while the boys sing round the fire.
Dont murder me, I beg of you, dont murder me. please, dont murder me.
No, no, no dont murder me. I beg of you,
Dont murder me. please, dont murder me.
song performed by by Grateful Dead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tonight We Murder
red hand takes a purple terror
love knows these nuts
when we escape from the madhouse
we will... hunt down
tonight we murder
between the battle of pain and hate
we will wait, but not for our time
we'll for hate and to take
to deep... throat
tonight
tonight we murder
between the pain, the battle of pain
love never ties knots
a twisted plan of fear and hate
we'll never untie these nuts
tonight we murder
i murder
tonight we murder
song performed by by Ministry
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When They Find The Murders Me
When you realize you've made my life hell
I'll be there
When me sorry you try to tell
I'll be there
When you realize that I don't care
I'll be there
When you finally know that life isn't fair
I'll be there
When you see I'm getting revenge
I'll be there
When you recognize its you I'll avenge
I'll be there
When you're on your death bed
I'll be there
When they discover your dead
I'll be there
When they find murdered you were
I'll be there
When they realize something bad has occurred
I'll be there
When the cops look for your killer
I'll be there
When your life turns into a thriller
I'll be there
When they find the murder's a she
I'll be there
And when they find that the murder's me
I'll be there
But catch me they can not
For I'm the murderer that can't be caught
Calm and Quiet
That’s how I stood in front of you
But now I've started a riot
Murder is what I do
poem by Twisted Strange
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Murder Butterfly
The rainy, watery day
Frolicking in the bleeding sky
'Haha', we say
Playing with my murder butterfly
Like the white on rice
And the dots on dice
That's just alrigh'
Dancing with my murder butterfly
My butterfly's soul is of the dead
Waiting to pass through purgatory
For it is a ghost instead,
Loving my murdered butterfly
poem by Phil Kellogg
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In Paris With You
Don't talk to me of love. I've had an earful
And I get tearful when I've downed a drink or two.
I'm one of your talking wounded.
I'm a hostage. I'm maroonded.
But I'm in Paris with you.
Yes I'm angry at the way I've been bamboozled
And resentful at the mess I've been through.
I admit I'm on the rebound
And I don't care where are we bound.
I'm in Paris with you.
Do you mind if we do not go to the Louvre
If we say sod off to sodding Notre Dame,
If we skip the Champs Elysées
And remain here in this sleazy
Old hotel room
Doing this and that
To what and whom
Learning who you are,
Learning what I am.
Don't talk to me of love. Let's talk of Paris,
The little bit of Paris in our view.
There's that crack across the ceiling
And the hotel walls are peeling
And I'm in Paris with you.
Don't talk to me of love. Let's talk of Paris.
I'm in Paris with the slightest thing you do.
I'm in Paris with your eyes, your mouth,
I'm in Paris with... all points south.
Am I embarrassing you?
I'm in Paris with you.
poem by James Fenton
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I Love Paris
Every time I look down on this timeless town,
Whether blue or gray be her skies,
Whether loud be her cheers, or whether soft be her tears,
More and more do I realize that...
I love paris in the spring time
I love paris in the fall
I love paris in the summer when it sizzles
I
Love paris in the winter when it drizzles
I love paris every moment
Every moment of the year
I love
Paris, why oh why do I love paris
Because my love is here
song performed by by Ella Fitzgerald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Love Paris
Nat king cole
(cole porter)
(can-can)
Every time I look down on this timeless town
Whether blue or gray be her skies.
Whether loud be her cheers or soft be her tears,
More and more do I realize:
I love paris in the springtime.
I love paris in the fall.
I love paris in the winter when it drizzles,
I love paris in the summer when it sizzles.
I love paris every moment,
Every moment of the year.
I love paris, why, oh why do I love paris?
Because my love is near.
song performed by by Nat King Cole
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Slit My throat
Tears are stained
against my cheeks
blood is gashed agaisnt the walls
all i have to say is slit my throat and lay me to sleep
I want out of this crule harsh world
everyone is mean to me
they hurt me
beat me
and make fun of me
Most of the time though
they end up hurting me
so as i cry out into the night
i want my last words to be
slit my throat and lay me to sleep
Lay me to sleep,
killme,
murder me,
do something, but if you do
slit my throat first
an lay me to sleep in a grave
poem by Dominique Lange
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