Charlotte Corday
For murder in death by guillotine she had to pay
The legendary woman Charlotte Corday
With a knife she stabbed to death Jean Paul Marat
Whilst he was relaxing alone in his bath,
Jean Paul Marat was one who was not free of taint
A power hungry fellow he was far from a saint
I killed one person to save thousands at her trial she did say
She lives on in legend brave Charlotte Corday
Though it did have it's legends and figures of romance
Not a good Land to live in eighteenth century France
Charlotte Corday was beheaded for murder by knife
Though one can say she did not have a fair go in life
Beheaded in her mid twenties and in her life's prime
But her legend lives on through the centuries of time.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Related quotes
Jacobin Paranoia
`
warmth envelops
dissolving the
bustle and noise
liquid stillness
offers but a momentary
tranquil once upon a time
it is so easy to
drift off and forget
here the watery balm
soothes celiac rashes
a moment's reprieve
that shuts out reality
provides sombre retreat
cares float away
until unwanted thoughts
stray with blistered report
it is quite possible
through bolted locks
to lay victim
to home invasion
for someone to play
Corday to one's Marat
a hapless victim stabbed
at home in one's bath
`
poem by Frederick Kesner
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
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Baby Charlotte Song
Baby Charlotte, baby Charlotte
With your eyes big and brown
Your silent slumber so peaceful
You don't make a sound.
Baby Charlotte, baby Charlotte
With your smile so sweet
Your full head of hair
Your tiny, precious feet.
Baby Charlotte, baby Charlotte
With your dimples so deep
Your laughter contagious
Your personality unique.
Baby Charlotte, baby Charlotte
With your expression divine
Your smarter than most
Your namesake is mine.
poem by Gail Godin
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Baby Charlotte Lullabye
Baby Charlotte, Baby Charlotte
With your eyes big and brown
Your silent slumber so peaceful
You don't make a sound
Baby Charlotte, Baby Charlotte
With your smile so sweet
Your full head of hair
Your tiny, precious feet
Baby Charlotte, Baby Charlotte
With your dimples so deep
Your laughter contagious
Your personality unique
Baby Charlotte, Baby Charlotte
With your expressions devine
Your smarter than most
Your namesake is mine.
poem by Gail Godin
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God has always been hard on the poor.
quote by Jean-Paul Marat
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Five or six hundred heads cut off would have assured your repose, freedom and happiness.
quote by Jean-Paul Marat
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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One is still what one is going to cease to be and already what one is going to become. One lives one's death, one dies one's life.
quote by Jean-Paul Sartre
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Charlotte The Harlot '88
Dave Murray
Giving a swish with your arse in the air, don't you know what they're saying?
Charlotte you're so refined when you take all the love that they're giving.
Sticking with every man that you find, don't you know what they're after?
Charlotte you've got your legs in the air, don't you hear all the laughter?
*Chorus*:
Charlotte the Harlot show me your legs,
Charlotte the Harlot take me to bed.
Charlotte the Harlot let me see blood,
Charlotte the Harlot let me see love.
Taking so many men to your room, don't you feel no remorse?
You charge them a "fiver", It's only for starters.
And ten for the main course.
And you've got no feelings, they died long ago.
Don't you care who you let in?
And don't you know you're breaking the law with the service you're giving.
*Chorus*
There was a time when you left me standing there,
Picking up pieces of love off the floor.
Well Charlotte you left me alone in there,
To make your ends as a bloody whore.
Well Charlotte you told me you love me true,
Picking up pieces of love yesterday.
Well Charlotte you're draws are off color too
'Cause you're making love all day.
Giving a swish with your arse in the air, don't you know what they're saying?
Charlotte you're so refined when you take all the love that they're giving.
Sticking with every man that you find, don't you know what they're after?
Charlotte you've got your legs in the air, don't you hear all the laughter?
*Chorus*
song performed by by Iron Maiden
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet: Save Human Lives
You kill a lamb and yet ’tis not a sin;
You play with dolls but don’t worship them still;
’Tis murder when you kill men, kith and kin;
Man lives a life predestined by God’s will.
‘Though blood is thicker than water’- we say,
Not many care if human blood is lost!
Although man plans, God calls off everyday;
One must save human lives at any cost.
And human life is most precious to God;
And so He gave each man a soul to keep;
Nevertheless, He made all things from clod;
From murder, man most punishment will reap.
We have no right to take another’s life;
God will reward if lives are saved from knife!
21-3-2001
poem by John Celes
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We May Remain Unchanged Immune?
in death of any unknown strangers
we may remain unchanged immune
if that death circles cycles normal
yet beware exceptional circumstances
death by torture murder disasters
even an unarmed murder of an evil
pronounced man without fair trial
may send forth ripples to rip distant
lives into shock wave repercussions
poem by Terence George Craddock
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The Perfect Murder On The Perfect Day
The Perfect Murder…..,
On The Perfect Day……,
No one would find out……,
No possible way……,
She waited in the shadows….,
For him to pass by……,
When he did…..,
The knife did fly…..,
Stabbed him dead…..,
The low-life cheat…..,
Then killed herself….,
To make it all complete….,
The Perfect Murder….,
On the Perfect Day…..,
Happy Valentine’s Day…..! ! !
poem by Trade Martin
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Meat Is Murder
Heifer whines could be human cries
Closer comes the screaming knife
This beautiful creature must die
This beautiful creature must die
A death for no reason
And death for no reason is murder
And the flesh you so fancifully fry
Is not succulent, tasty or kind
Its death for no reason
And death for no reason is murder
And the calf that you carve with a smile
Is murder
And the turkey you festively slice
Is murder
Do you know how animals die ?
Kitchen aromas arent very homely
Its not comforting, cheery or kind
Its sizzling blood and the unholy stench
Of murder
Its not natural, normal or kind
The flesh you so fancifully fry
The meat in your mouth
As you savour the flavour
Of murder
No, no, no, its murder
No, no, no, its murder
Oh ... and who hears when animals cry ?
song performed by by Smiths
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Meat Is Murder
Heifer whines could be human cries
Closer comes the screaming knife
This beautiful creature must die
This beautiful creature must die
A death for no reason
And death for no reason is MURDER
And the flesh you so fancifully fry
Is not succulent, tasty or kind
It's death for no reason
And death for no reason is MURDER
And the calf that you carve with a smile
Is MURDER
And the turkey you festively slice
Is MURDER
Do you know how animals die ?
Kitchen aromas aren't very homely
It's not "comforting", cheery or kind
It's sizzling blood and the unholy stench
Of MURDER
It's not "natural", "normal" or kind
The flesh you so fancifully fry
The meat in your mouth
As you savour the flavour
Of MURDER
NO, NO, NO, IT'S MURDER
NO, NO, NO, IT'S MURDER
Oh ... and who hears when animals cry
song performed by by Morrissey
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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Love
Darling what love are you talking? ,
When you saw me dead with a knife
Stabbed on my stomach yesterday
You shouted out of fear of your life
murder, murder danger thief fire!
You did not say oh my darling leaving
Me alive how can you be dead?
Darling what love are you talking?
I had broken two teeth making peace
With you, out of love of me can you
Break two teeth of you?
Darling what love are you talking?
Out of love of me can you go away
For a while to give relief to me?
For a moment can you hand over me
For my pleasure to that lady? Or
Will you allow me to chat with
Those of hungry women sitting
Thousands miles away on barren land?
poem by Abdul Wahab
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Assault & Battery
The lives were taken
For feasts at the table
A life of misery
Ending with a shock
Brutal murder (brutal murder)
All hands to the slaughter
Mass torture
All hands to the knife
And I can hear the screams
With the knife, the jolt, the wring
They must follow in our dreams
Carrying a twisted sting
Childrens stories with their farmyard favourites
At the table in a different disguise
Dont talk to me of health
Or something someone else will do
Were talking about the act
Of taking life for me and you
And I hear their screams
song performed by by Howard Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ahane's Own Mick Mackey
In his Limerick had a name to celebrate
Ahane's own Mick Mackey was a hurling great
Assured of his place in Hurling's Hall of Fame
In death as in life his a legendary name.
So many great hurlers the way of time have gone
But the legend of Mackey destined to live on
He is proclaimed to be the best of his time
And he must have been great when he was in his prime.
Mick Mackey the hurler broad shouldered and strong
The man who was honoured in story and song
He inspired Limerick to many a marvellous victory
And very few hurlers were as great as he.
He was never found wanting when put to the test
Ahane's own Mick Mackey he was Limerick's best
One of the famed Mackeys the legendary Mick
He weaved hurling magic with his caman stick.
Of his prowess of a great scoring forward he left none in doubt
And when hurling people talk of great hurlers his name is never left out
And though from the land of the living he may be long gone
As a hurling legend his name will live on.
poem by Francis Duggan
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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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Sorrows of Werther
Werther had a love for Charlotte
Such as words could never utter;
Would you know how first he met her?
She was cutting bread and butter.
Charlotte was a married lady,
And a moral man was Werther,
And, for all the wealth of Indies,
Would do nothing for to hurt her.
So he sighed and pined and ogled,
And his passion boiled and bubbled,
Till he blew his silly brains out,
And no more was by it troubled.
Charlotte, having seen his body
Borne before her on a shutter,
Like a well-coducted person,
Went on cutting bread and butter.
poem by William Makepeace Thackeray
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