It is my conviction that killing under the cloak of war is nothing but an act of murder.
quote by Albert Einstein
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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He who joyfully marches to music rank and file, has already earned my contempt. He has been given a large brain by mistake, since for him the spinal cord would surely suffice. This disgrace to civilization should be done away with at once. Heroism at command, how violently I hate all this, how despicable and ignoble war is; I would rather be torn to shreds than be a part of so base an action. It is my conviction that killing under the cloak of war is nothing but an act of murder.
quote by Albert Einstein
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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He who joyfully marches to music in rank and file has already earned my contempt. He has been given a large brain by mistake, since for him the spinal cord would fully suffice. This disgrace to civilization should be done away with at once. Heroism at command, senseless brutality, deplorable patriotism, how violently I hate all this, how despicable and ignoble war is; I would rather be torn to shreds than be part of so base an action! It is my conviction that killing under the cloak of war is nothing but an act of murder.
quote by Albert Einstein
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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He who joyfully marches to music in rank and file has already earned my contempt. He has been given a large brain by mistake, since for him the spinal cord would fully suffice. This disgrace to civilization should be done away with at once. Heroism at command, senseless brutality, and all the loathsome nonsense that goes by the name of patriotism, how violently I hate all this, how despicable and ignoble war is I would rather be torn to shreds than be part of so base an action It is my conviction that killing under the cloak of war is nothing but an act of murder.
quote by Albert Einstein
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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A Key To Nothing
no more doors
no more locks
no more windows
no more box
no more no less
no more nothing less
no more six foot digs
no more hypocrites
no more emptiness
no more consequence
no more puppet strings
no more disease
no more growing up
no more happiness
no more lying down
no more complacence
i have
i hold the key to nothing
it's a small killing
murder
murder's in the hands
of motion...as it seems to be
no more nothing
no more anything
no more you
no more me
no more posturing victories
no more nations to defeat
no more speaking truth
no more deceit
no more holding down
no more pushing me
no more new world order
no more ANARCHY
i have
i hold the key to nothing
it's a small killing
murder
murder's in the hands
of motion...as it seems to be
im washing my hands...of the whole thing(X3)
i want no more nothing!(X4)
i have
i hold the key...to nothing
it's a small killing
murder
murder's in the hands
of motion...as it seems to be
i'm washing my hands, of everything
of everything we are
song performed by by Mudvayne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Key To Nothing
No more doors
No more locks
No more windows
No more box
No more
No less
No more six foot digs
No more hypocrites
No more emptiness
No more consequence
No more puppet strings
No more disease
No more growing up
No more happiness
No more lying down
No more complacence
I have... I hold the key... to nothing... its a small
Killing
Murder... murders in the hands... of
Motion... as it seems to be
No more nothing
No more anything
No more you
No more me
No more posturing victories
No more nations to defeat
No more speaking truth
No more deceit
No more holding down
No more pushing me
No more new world order
No more anarchy
I have... I hold the key... to nothing... its a small
Killing
Murder... murders in the hands... of motion... as
It seems to be
Im washing my hands... of the whole thing
I want no more nothing
I have... I hold the key... to nothing... its a small
Killing
Murder... murders in the hands... of motion... as
It seems to be
Im washing my hands, of everything...
Of everything we are
song performed by by Mudvayne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Your Choice!
stop the senseless killing!
right here, right now!
murder is murder.
nothing you own or possess
is worth the price of a human life...
killing never brings peace!
the bombs you drop
you lack of faith.
the bodies you bury
in the shallow ditch your children.
only God knows the price you pay,
only you know the God you face!
every action brings either
life or death... your choice!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Living A Murder 4/10/08
Her future is over, she is living a murder.
Awoken at realization, stunned by devastation.
Unable to define, it is life which she will deny.
Obvious is her decision, conspicuous through conviction.
Regret fulfills her, she is living a murder.
No longer close to extraordinary, stricken by conformity.
She had failed drastically, only heading downhill rapidly.
Expected, people will look down upon; Accepted, she'll frown until beyond.
Pain soon to concur, she is living a murder.
poem by Samantha Fernandes
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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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The Prime Commandment
The Prime Commandment
Of Murder, Manslaughter, Homicide! Oh! Such is this a Crime.
The three whilst so common are often much confused.
Murder is planned, intentional, real and with life, on the line.
With which DARK evil forces take hand in hand.
Manslaughter, whilst wicked is unplanned or premeditated.
Or so it is oft pleaded and said anyway.
Manslaughter, Murder, Homicide, ? The saddest of all fates.
Best avoided, if one is to reach an old age?
Learn? Homicide chiefly occurs in a Murder!
………………………………………………………….
Manslaught er, a soft cloak for Murder sublime.
In self-defence Murder can be culpable.
Most Cops and Crime victims from time to time agree.
Justifiable, some say, in preventing atrocious crime.
But! No one has a just cause to Murder.
Life of a King, President, Fly or a Bum is still precious.
To Kill, should not form any part of Life’s plan.
Make just natural life wastage healthy reason to develop.
May those a hawking DEATH rot forever in their HELL! -------------------
The Thousandth Man 12th December 2007
poem by Philip Winchester
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One with Darkness
When ever I go out I go out fighting
Screaming for chance to finally end up dying
I have to murder to fulfill my end of this deal
Death is imminent, but something that I’ll never feel.
This is my curse, this is my curse
Sign upon the bloody line I should’ve thought of first
This is my curse, this is my curse
This is my curse, this is my curse
Killing for a living this can’t get any worse
This is my curse, this is my curse
How can I ever love someone else
When murder is my life, and I can’t even love myself
Every night I wake up next to another dead whore
Someone please stop me I don’t want to murder anymore
poem by Justin Schock
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Murderer
I murder in the morning
I murder late at night
l murder when the time is right
l murder my family
l murder my friends
l murder anyone who gets in my way
l kill you with a gun
l kill you with a knife
l kill you with poison
l'm a murderer
l'm going to kill you now
don't scream
don't yell
don't fight me
just sit there and
DIE
DIE
DIE
DIE! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
poem by Rebecca Succes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Murder By Numbers
Once that youve decided on a killing
First you make a stone of your heart
And if you find that your hands are still willing
Then you can turn a murder into art
There really isnt need for bloodshed
You just do it with a little more finesse
If you can slip a tablet into someones coffee
Then it avoids an awful lot of mess
Its murder by numbers one two three
Its as easy to learn as your abc
Now if you have a taste for this experience
And youre flushed with your very first success
Then you must try a twosome or a threesome
And youll find your conscience bothers you much less
Because murder is like anything you take to
Its a habit-forming need for more and more
You can bump off every member of your family
And anybody else you find a bore
Because its murder by numbers one two three
Its as easy to learn as your abc
Now you can join the ranks of the illustrious
In historys great dark hall of fame
All our famous killers were industrious
At least the ones that we all know by name
But you can reach the top of your profession
If you become the leader of the land
For murder is the sport of the elected
And you dont need to lift a finger of your hand
song performed by by Police
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What does that make you?
If you work in capital punishment what does that make you?
If you kill a murderer I think that’s murder too.
If you hurt some one would you expect it to be returned?
But from your point of view that hurt would have been earned.
I agree they should be punished, I really, really do,
But I also think we should help them to get through.
Do you really consider all of their concerns?
Or do you think: murder, now it’s their turn.
Murder is an intentional killing in the laws sight,
Just because capital punishment is in the law doesn’t make it right.
It’s just like a policeman breaking the law,
And the authorities turn a blind eye lacking awe.
If they are not justified to their discrepancies,
Do you think our crime sentences really should be?
We should be punished for our major illegal wrongs,
But if they aren’t then justice in society does not belong.
Because if we as a society lets capital murder carry through,
Just sit and ask yourself what does that really make you?
poem by Amy Fifita
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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The Good Times Are Killing Me
The good times are killing me.
Here we go!
Got dirt, got air, got water and I know you can carry on.
Shrug off shortsighted false excitement and oh what can I say?
Have one, have twenty more "one mores" and oh it does not relent.
The good times are killing me.
Kick butt buzz-cut dickheads
who didn't like what I said.
The good times are killing me.
Jaws clenched tight we talked all night,
oh but what the hell did we say?
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
Fed up with all that LSD.
Need more sleep than coke or methamphetamines.
Late nights with warm, warm whiskey.
I guess the good times they were all just killing me.
Got dirt, got air, got water and I know you can carry on.
The good times are killing me.
Enough hair of the dog to make myself an entire rug.
The good times are killing me.
Have one, have twenty more "one mores" and oh it does not relent.
The good times are killing me.
Shit-kicker city slickers who all wanted me dead.
The good times are killing me.
Get sucked in and stuck in late nights
with more folks that I don't know.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
song performed by by Modest Mouse
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To my Moslem friends
If truly great is the love
of God and man,
why do people
kill themselves
and murder others
with suicide bombs?
Why do they believe
that killing the innocent,
will take them straight
to paradise
and a string of virgins?
Rather most religions teaches
that sinners go
straight to hell,
or did somebody forget
to tell them this?
Do they really think
that there’s glory in killing
and that this monstrous deed
is a kind of virtue?
Somehow when religion
turns to hate,
God is lost from the equation.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Stop The Killing!
he killed Trayvon
with a bullet to the chest.
stone cold murder!
much as we've killed...
Vietnamese children,
South American children,
the children of Iraq,
and Afghanistan...
Japanese children,
Native American children,
and probably next
the children of Iran!
as Dylan mocks:
'with god on our side'...
whose god?
what type of morality
justifies killing children?
we might just as well
be killing our own children!
and in a sense we are!
Trayvon demands justice...
so do the ghosts of all the children...
their faces ingrained in the curse
on our souls, on our land!
stop the killing!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Good Times Are Killing Me
MODEST MOUSE - The Good Times Are Killing Me
Album: Good News For People Who Love Bad News (2004)
The good times are killing me.
Here we go!
Got dirt, got air, got water and I know you can carry on.
Shrug off shortsighted false excitement and oh what can I say?
Have one, have twenty more "one mores" and oh it does not relent.
The good times are killing me.
Kick butt buzz-cut dickheads
who didn't like what I said.
The good times are killing me.
Jaws clenched tight we talked all night,
oh but what the hell did we say?
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
Fed up with all that LSD.
Need more sleep than coke or methamphetamines.
Late nights with warm, warm whiskey.
I guess the good times they were all just killing me.
Got dirt, got air, got water and I know you can carry on.
The good times are killing me.
Enough hair of the dog to make myself an entire rug.
The good times are killing me.
Have one, have twenty more "one mores" and oh it does not relent.
The good times are killing me.
Shit-kicker city slickers who all wanted me dead.
The good times are killing me.
Get sucked in and stuck in late nights
with more folks that I don't know.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
song performed by by Modest Mouse
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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