Murder Poems
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
......
Prayer Before Birth
by Louis Macneice
I am not yet born; O hear me.
Let not the bloodsucking bat or the rat or the stoat or the
club-footed ghoul come near me.
I am not yet born, console me.
I fear that the human race may with tall walls wall me,
with strong drugs dope me, with wise lies lure me,
on black racks rack me, in blood-baths roll me.
I am not yet born; provide me
......
The Table Turned
by William Wordsworth
Up! up! my Friend, and quit your books;
Or surely you'll grow double:
Up! up! my Friend, and clear your looks;
Why all this toil and trouble?
The sun, above the mountain's head,
A freshening lustre mellow
Through all the long green fields has spread,
His first sweet evening yellow.
......
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,
......
The Flea
by John Donne
Mark but this flea, and mark in this,
How little that which thou deny'st me is;
It sucked me first, and now sucks thee,
And in this flea, our two bloods mingled be;
Thou knowest that this cannot be said
A sin, nor shame, nor loss of maidenhead.
Yet this enjoys before it woo,
And pampered, swells with one blood made of two,
And this, alas, is more than we would do.
......
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
......
