Murder Poems
In Memory Of My Feelings
by Frank O'Hara
My quietness has a man in it, he is transparent
and he carries me quietly, like a gondola, through the streets.
He has several likenesses, like stars and years, like numerals.
My quietness has a number of naked selves,
so many pistols I have borrowed to protect myselves
from creatures who too readily recognize my weapons
and have murder in their heart!
though in winter
they are warm as roses, in the desert
......
Ripley
by Henry Timrod
Rich in red honors, that upon him lie
As lightly as the Summer dews
Fall where he won his fame beneath the sky
Of tropic Vera Cruz;
Bold scorner of the cant that has its birth
In feeble or in failing powers;
A lover of all frank and genial mirth
That wreathes the sword with flowers;
......
The Man From Iron Bark
by Banjo Paterson
It was the man from Ironbark who struck the Sydney town,
He wandered over street and park, he wandered up and down.
He loitered here he loitered there, till he was like to drop,
Until at last in sheer despair he sought a barber's shop.
'Ere! shave my beard and whiskers off, I'll be a man of mark,
I'll go and do the Sydney toff up home in Ironbark.'
The barber man was small and flash, as barbers mostly are,
He wore a strike-your-fancy sash he smoked a huge cigar;
He was a humorist of note and keen at repartee,
He laid the odds and kept a 'tote', whatever that may be,
......
Baseball
by John W. Knight
The game was tied in the bottom of nine
A runner on third and two out
In the dead still air a mosquito's whine
Was all you could hear, then a shout
"Do something Ben, murder the ball,
For crying out loud get a hit."
Ben strode to the plate to answer the call
The now restless fans knew this was it
......
The Slave Dealer
by Thomas Pringle
From ocean's wave a Wanderer came,
With visage tanned and dun:
His Mother, when he told his name,
Scarce knew her long-lost son;
So altered was his face and frame
By the ill course he had run.
There was hot fever in his blood,
And dark thoughts in his brain;
And oh! to turn his heart to good
......
Unlucky Poem #13 (2023 Version)
by Michael Farrell
The fire burning within,
of a once romanticized night.
The machete now lies in my palm.
The glistening of oozing red,
slick as the night’s rain,
Only to wash away,
the sin.
The hour resides, the cold shower,
to cleanse the heart,
and it sits on my shelf.
......
A Lost City
by Jeffrey Pipes Guice
Cancerous urban decay…
It’s taking over my beloved city…
The politicians truly don’t care…
Collecting more taxes and sitting pretty…
The infrastructure is totally failing…
They kick the can down the road…
Our children’s children’s children…
Will be left to inherit the load…
......
They Killed Her
by Khayelihle Bongiswa Gamedze
They parked the car outside to get to her,
Put on balaclavas to attack her,
Climbed the gate they wanted her...
Tied her dogs to get to her.
They kicked the door they saw her,
She was already scared they didn't care.
One held her daughter to beat her.
Blotted blood they kicked her,
On her tummy they punched her,
......
My Hubby and Me
by Jeffrey Pipes Guice
Resting, peacefully...
Under the old oak tree...
That where you’ll find...
My hubby and me...
He went first...
I went a little later...
I choked on his meat...
He, on my tater...
......
Evil At The Wayward Inn
by Faith Brigham
'No more boarders,'
the inn keeper spewed
raising her arms in the air.
People once came to the inn in droves
because it was a quaint little structure
with flower beds surrounding it
It stood on the outskirts of town
a darling little place it was
that is until the unthinkable occurred
......
