Goka And Five Others
Tossed to and fro with my mind,
One father to all to share a view;
But murder she wrote on this love.
The moment of grief and the moment of love,
And of their bodies in blankets without DNA test;
For we are now greeted by the ghost of our past!
Godwin Mawuli Dra Goka,
Yaw Brefo Berko,
Kojo Kyeremeh Djan,
Samuel Charles Aforo,
And Richard Charles Koomson;
Murder she wrote but,
The killers are still living among us.
Goka and five others,
In miniature coffins were their names inscribed on!
And this is the monument of my grief at last.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
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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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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Minister for Exams
When I was a child I sat an exam.
This test was so simple
There was no way i could fail.
Q1. Describe the taste of the Moon.
It tastes like Creation I wrote,
it has the flavour of starlight.
Q2. What colour is Love?
Love is the colour of the water a man
lost in the desert finds, I wrote.
Q3. Why do snowflakes melt?
I wrote, they melt because they fall
on to the warm tongue of God.
There were other questions.
They were as simple.
I described the grief of Adam
when he was expelled from Eden.
I wrote down the exact weight of
an elephant's dream
Yet today, many years later,
For my living I sweep the streets
or clean out the toilets of the fat
hotels.
Why? Because constantly I failed
my exams.
Why? Well, let me set a test.
Q1. How large is a child's
imagination?
Q2. How shallow is the soul of the
Minister for exams?
poem by Brian Patten
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fulfilment
Was there love once? I have forgotten her.
Was there grief once? Grief yet is mine.
Other loves I have, men rough, but men who stir
More grief, more joy, than love of thee and thine.
Faces cheerful, full of whimsical mirth,
Lined by the wind, burned by the sun;
Bodies enraptured by the abounding earth,
As whose children we are brethern: one.
And any moment may descend hot death
To shatter limbs! Pulp, tear, blast
Belovèd soldiers who love rough life and breath
Not less for dying faithful to the last.
O the fading eyes, the grimed face turned bony,
Oped mouth gushing, fallen head,
Lessening pressure of a hand, shrunk, clammed and stony!
O sudden spasm, release of the dead!
Was there love once? I have forgotten her.
Was there grief once? Grief yet is mine.
O loved, living, dying, heroic soldier,
All, all my joy, my grief, my love, are thine.
poem by Robert Nichols
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The World Of Killers
a killer to killed by a gun
when he counting a body of one his murder
a killer with a gun
behind our killer under sun
she have seen his job
she looked at him and his murder
she shot a bullet to his heart
he died
she looked at his blood
two murder in the park
one killer above them
looked at them
and again she killed with a gun
one killer hidden behind the wall
he killed her
with a snip
snipper behind the wall on the roof
looked at bodies in the park
he died too
with a bomb
into his bag
killer after killer
to killing oldest killers
the wild world
with the killers
requested one human between this animals
this killers
poem by Aidin Azarkerdar
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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 Friends
Share not thy joy with me, O friend the best,
Thou may'st forget me then--I shall not care;
But shut me from thy grief the bitterest,
And mine own grief would be too great to bear.
poem by Charles Hanson Towne
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A grief ago
'There is no grief
which time does not lessen
or soften' -
so said Cicero, a man so often right;
a Stoic, those for whom
all life presents a lesson
to be learned from,
and then, to move on from..
But I wonder about all this:
is grief ever lessened or softened?
Is it not, perhaps, overlaid
in our so various ways?
For some, grief framed and falsified
to ease that grief;
For some, like hyacinths and crocus bulbs,
left in a dark cupboard in the autumn of our grief
to respond to time, and
become at last
themselves?
gently, gently, the covers pulled
over the loving bed,
the true, the pure, the lovely painful grief,
the memory deep cherished,
gently, gently, folded
into the cupboards of the heart
there to be known, without the door disturbed
until the time - 'a grief ago' as Dylan wrote -
the cupboard opened only for love's sake
without grief...:
those carefully folded memories
brought out and loved
and lived a while...
not grief, not grief...but
the pure memory of grief
and behold,
life.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Murder 101
Never thought that I knew too much
I always thought I knew enough
I didnt want to learn this stuff
I didnt ever want to be that tough
But love was just implied
And everything else died
This class has now begun
In murder 101
You can learn it in the first degree
You could even make yourself believe
That youll never even think of me
When youre packing up your things to leave
Now my intuition failed
I cant graduate unskilled
They dont excuse the young
This is murder 101
Find yourself another heart that needs a rest
Tie a hook onto a single thread
Drop it down beneath the chest
Theres the first part of this test
Theyll grade you on a curve
Theyre including everyone
No matter what youve heard
You know this class has now begun
Drop out before they come
To murder one by one
Just look what weve done
In murder 101
Just look what weve done
In murder 101
Just look what weve done
This is murder 101
Just look what weve done
To murder one by one
song performed by by Wallflowers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Murder 101
Never thought that I knew too much
I always thought I knew enough
I didnt want to learn this stuff
I didnt ever want to be that tough
But love was just implied
And everything else died
This class has now begun
In murder 101
You can learn it in the first degree
You could even make yourself believe
That youll never even think of me
When youre packing up your things to leave
Now my intuition failed
I cant graduate unskilled
They dont excuse the young
This is murder 101
Find yourself another heart that needs a rest
Tie a hook onto a single thread
Drop it down beneath the chest
Theres the first part of this test
Theyll grade you on a curve
Theyre including everyone
No matter what youve heard
You know this class has now begun
Drop out before they come
To murder one by one
Just look what weve done
In murder 101
Just look what weve done
In murder 101
Just look what weve done
This is murder 101
Just look what weve done
To murder one by one
song performed by by Wallflowers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Killers
A man took an ad on T.V.
To enrol in the police academy
He's very talented, outstanding proof
From his clean-cut apperance to the shine on his boots
When it comes to graduation, he's number one
An expert with a rifal and also a gun
Three weeks on the beat and his weak nerves crack
And fires four warning shots into a kid's back
KILLERS! these are the killers
KILLERS! the coldhearted killers
KILLERS! bloodthirsty killers
KILLERS! beware of the killers
A young girl marries an older man
With more money than you can understand
He smouthers her with pearls and jewellery
And they both seemed as happy as they could be
But three months later, she's sad but content
Seems he had an unexpected accident
The girl said he would be hard to forget
As the papers interviewed her while she flew his jet
KILLERS! these are the killers
KILLERS! she was the killers
KILLERS! the coldhearted killers
KILLERS! beware of the killers
It's time for all to work together for peace
'Cause everybody's doomed if the killings don't cease
Street homicide, war, it's all the same
'Cause murder is murder by any name
An young man loses his only job
To proud to hustle, too honest to rob
He goes to tell his family an his wife
But an argument breaks out, she grabs a knife
Tempers esculate to a total rage
Shots burst out from a loaded twelve-guage
They call it mass murder, suicide
BUT SOMEBODY TELL ME WHY THE KIDS HAD TO DIE
KILLERS! these are the killers
KILLERS! the coldhearted killers
KILLERS! bloodthirsty killers
KILLERS! beware of the killers
Vietnam vet, home from the war
Can't get a job in a candy store
Unemployment hurts and he's living proof
So to take out his frustration, he climbs on the roof
He shows no pity as victims are shot
The only thing to stop him are the bullets from SWAT
Ten people died on a sunny day
BUT TELL ME WHO TAUGHT HIM HOW TO SHOOT THAT WAY
KILLERS! these are the killers
KILLERS! you know the killers
KILLERS! beware of the killers
KILLERS! are you a killer?
It's time for all to work together for peace
'Cause everybody's doomed if the killings don't cease
Street homicide, war, it's all the same
'Cause murder is murder by any name
A known criminal is sentenced to death
Now the legal system controls his last breath
He tries to fight execution with petitions and pleas
And a pardon from the governor is all he needs
He cries out for mercy but nothing's spared
And on his day of termination, he's strapped in a chair
High voltage fills his body in a ...... jail
And all of the people of vengeance grail
KILLERS! the coldhearted killers
KILLERS! bloodthirsty killers
KILLERS! the mercilous killers
KILLERS! are you a killer?
Georgie-Porgie-Pudding-and-pie
Couldn't get a girl, let me tell you all why
He tried to be down like all the rest
Had girls in his hair, gold on his chest
He rolled around town in a coup deville
But he had no money, he was broke as hell
Ladies love money and he needed more
So he tried to steal something out a liquor store
But before Georgie-Porgie could get away
The man pulled out his gun and blew him away
KILLERS! the coldhearted killers
KILLERS! are you a killer?
KILLERS! the mercilous killers
KILLERS! beware of the killers
It's time for all to work together for peace
'Cause everybody's doomed if the killings don't cease
Street homicide, war, it's all the same
'Cause murder is murder by any name
Politicians plan for power eacha nd every day
We are all just puppets in the games they play
They manipulate the message to attain their goals
And for simple re-election they will sell their souls
Nuclear supremacy is the ultimate thrill
So our tax we pay is paid for overkill
...................... up to the skies
WHILE WE ALL PRAY TO GOD THE MISSILES NEVER FLY
KILLERS! these are the killers
KILLERS! they are the killers
KILLERS! are you a killer?
KILLERS! don't be a killer
It's time for all to work together for peace
'Cause everybody's doomed if the killings don't cease
Street homicide, war, it's all the same
'Cause murder is murder by any name
song performed by by Ice T
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Legends, Elegies, Pleasures And Norma Jean
The man who wrote Legends of the Fall
Wrote; 'Don't fall in love as if fallin' off a dock at night'
But when you are struck by the thunderbolt
How do you not fall?
The man who wrote the Duino Elegies
Wrote; 'Beauty is only the start of bearable terror'
But to be stuck without beauty
Is unbearable
The woman formerly know as Norma Jean
Wrote; 'I know from life one cannot love another'
I know what she meant, but to love you
How can I not?
The man who wrote The Pleasures of Hope
Wrote; 'How hard it is to find the one just suited to our mind! '
But it is just a little too easy to find one
Who is ill suited
From Legends, Elegies, Pleasures and Norma Jean
What they wrote is unforgettable
And that is what you are muse, though near or far
In every way
poem by MacGregor Tagliaferro
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Nothing is Lost
Nothing is lost.
We are too sad to know that, or too blind;
Only in visited moments do we understand:
It is not that the dead return ---
They are about us always, though unguessed.
This penciled Latin verse
You dying wrote me, ten years past and more,
Brings you as much alive to me as the self you wrote it for,
Dear father, as I read your words
With no word but Alas.
Lines in a letter, lines in a face
Are the faithful currents of life: the boy has written
His parents across his forehead, and as we burn
Our bodies up each seven years,
His own past self has left no plainer trace.
Nothing dies.
The cells pass on their secrets, we betray them
Unknowingly: in a freckle, in the way
We walk, recall some ancestor,
And Adam in the color of our eyes.
Yes, on the face of the new born,
Before the soul has taken full possession,
There pass, as over a screen, in succession
The images of other beings:
Face after face looks out, and then is gone.
Nothing is lost, for all in love survive.
I lay my cheek against his sleeping limbs
To feel if he is warm, and touch in him
Those children whom no shawl could warm,
No arms, no grief, no longing could revive.
Thus what we see, or know,
Is only a tiny portion, at the best,
Of the life in which we share; an iceberg’s crest
Our sunlit present, our partial sense,
With deep supporting multitudes below.
poem by Anne Barbara Ridler
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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
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Roof Top Poet
He was known as the roof top poet
He was good, but he wouldn’t show it.
He wrote about everything on the streets
While listening to the Latin beat.
His upbringing inspired him
To write about crime and sin.
He wrote about street drugs everywhere
And dirty needles that they would share.
He played the conga and bongos too
This is what he had learned to do.
There was not a topic that he would not touch
For he loved life much to much.
He wrote about robberies, muggings
And murder, prostitution, gambling
Corruption and all the rest
His talent for street writing made him the best.
But there was a soft side to him
That people did not know
And where ever children needed him
He would go.
He was a volunteer in the children s hospital
And the orphanages too, which was
Something that nobody knew.
He would give them love, affection, and laughter
Wealth or fame he wasn’t after.
He gave them the key elements for the
Children to survive, HOPE, LOVE, FAITH
With hope in their hearts and faith in GOD
There was nothing that they could not do.
If to themselves they would be true.
Now if we could be such as HE
The world would be better for the children you see.
HOPE IS THE KEY TO SET YOURSELF FREE
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It is murder
When you take away a life
With the aid of a knife
It is murder
While you extinguish the living with a gun
Without being able to recreate what was born
It is murder
If you feed someone dead tablets
Later have second acrimonious regrets
It is murder
You are taking away a life
It is clinging on to survive
Need I say anymore further
It is murder
Murder sprung by a fling
With ropes or a string
Your hands only bring
Death around a necks ring
Execution by suffocation
Condemned with abomination
Deliberate foetus termination
It is murder
Make no mistake,
Be careful
Asleep or awake!
Murder is unlawful
If death occurs because of the effects of an evil curse
I will say this with my lips pursed
'What a great loss, but this is not murder!
Copyright 2006 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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After The Play
Father
Have you spent the money I gave you to-day?
John
Ay, father I have.
A fourpence on cakes, two pennies that away
To a beggar I gave.
Father
The lake of yellow brimstone boil for you in Hell,
Such lies that you spin.
Tell the truth now, John, ere the falsehood swell,
Say, where have you been?
John
I'll lie no more to you, father, what is the need?
To the Play I went,
With sixpence for a near seat, money's worth indeed,
The best ever spent.
Grief to you, shame or grief, here is the story--
My splendid night!
It was colour, scents, music, a tragic glory,
Fear with delight.
Hamlet, Prince of Denmark, title of the tale:
He of that name,
A tall, glum fellow, velvet cloaked, with a shirt of mail,
Two eyes like flame.
All the furies of fate circled round the man,
Maddening his heart,
There was old murder done before play began,
Ay, the ghost took part.
There were grave-diggers delving, they brought up bones,
And with rage and grief
All the players shouted in full, kingly tones,
Grand, passing belief.
Oh, there were ladies there radiant like day,
And changing scenes:
Great sounding words were tossed about like hay
By kings and queens.
How the plot turned about I watched in vain,
Though for grief I cried,
As one and all they faded, poisoned or slain,
In great agony died.
Father, you'll drive me forth never to return,
Doubting me your son--
Father
So I shall, John
John
--but that glory for which I burn
Shall be soon begun.
I shall wear great boots, shall strut and shout,
Keep my locks curled.
The fame of my name shall go ringing about
Over half the world.
Father
Horror that your Prince found, John may you find,
Ever and again
Dying before the house in such torture of mind
As you need not feign.
While they clap and stamp at your nightly fate,
They shall never know
The curse that drags at you, until Hell's gate.
You have heard me. Go!
poem by Robert Graves
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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No More
I wrote my name on the seashore
The waves came and it was no more
I wrote my name in the air
The wind came and it was no more
I wrote my name in the sky
The clouds came and it was no more
I wrote my name in the puddles
The sun came and it was no more
i wrote my name in the dust
The rain came and it was no more
One day Gabriel wrote my name
and alas! i was no more
poem by Humna Hamid
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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1 Among 50
A few out of many,
But it was 1 among 50 as the muse wrote;
And like a lovely garden with the muse of love,
But the rain comes to water us all in peace.
Do exactly what you have in mind,
And do what is nice to respect my love;
But it was 1 among 50 as the muse wrote,
For the joy of this garden is like living in paradise!
Obey my voice and obey my love,
And like the lovely songs of the birds around;
For this garden is all that we have,
But it was 1 among 50 as the muse wrote!
And the true peace of the mind always comes with love.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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