re the real deal, a real writer, a real killer,
Jeremy Gratton

I’m not like you. I can’t turn anything into a poem,
then again, maybe I can,
but I’m not sure that it would end up
being any good at all.

Still, I write and write and write,
tall tales, bunny rails, fables and sad fairies,
and lest not forget the antichrist.

Mother Mary and her damned hand grenades,
they should kill themselves for altering your words.
Any poet, even a pretend one,
knows that you just don’t do that shit.

But hey, we still have plenty of words from you,
the bearer of truth.

You tamed tarantulas, and sat in cafes in Europe,
like a demonic ruler, and you did it to the end,
because you were the real deal, a real writer, a real killer,
a cannibal of the written word, you sprayed the mind
with linguistic machine guns.

A king, a martyr, but you would never wear that badge,
it wouldn’t feel right to you, it would disgrace your honor.

And ten thousand poets still cannot compare to you,
one closing line of yours is like a symphony of poems,
a barricade, an earthquake, shake, drink, shake, drink,
and an opening line,
always worth more than the novice might think.

You awe me, make me wish I had what you had,
but then again, not really,
it’s bad enough having what I have.

Also @
#poem   #poetry   #poet   #killer   #awe  
move so swift, because I am the cowboy killer.
May 5

Runnin’ fast, bein’ chased; this scene’s a thriller,
I move so swift, because I am the cowboy killer.
Expanse lay ahead; nothin’ but dust on my heels.
I sold my soul; my life it no longer steals.


#life   #devil   #soul   #killer   #cowboy  
In a trance, slashing throats. I'm in a killer mood someone's going to pay for this. A

In a trance, slashing throats. I'm in a killer mood someone's going to pay for this. All this betray and backstabbing. Pleasure by seeing other people suffering. Stressed out, messed up, fucked up. Killing every living thing as I walk by. Tonight you're all going to pay. Tonight is the end. Suffer!

Written: May 22. -2014

One second she breathes,
and the next second she stops.
Humans call it death.

For a related piece please visit:
EMI☜ʕ♥ᴥಠʔ☞♡ and ♥☜ʕಠᴥ♥ʔ☞ I

Serial Killer
#haiku   #death   #lust   #breath   #murder   #killer   #serial   #psychopath   #beryldov   #wikipedia  
Its a killer.
Mechanical Adolescents

Its a killer.
Like anger to a bee.
Like Hope in the eyes of a decided fate.
Like Music to my ears, we fade slowly together. Our feet move in step time sync.
Its a beauty; like the swan.
A flap of the wings in the water light.
A twist of the neck; a break of your arm.
It's a killer, with the name of Love.

I laid a paragraph put like a it poetry now? there are no enjambments or rhyming patterns, but does that matter
#love   #anger   #tags   #hope   #music   #swan   #fate   #killer   #bee   #assholes  
He wasn't a true serial-killer;
ᏰέƦẙḽ Dṏሁ

He wasn't a true serial-killer;
more of a Frosted Flake.

             (”)-(”)=ε/̵͇̿̿/̿ ̿ ̿ ̿  ̿ ̿ ̿

Jan 24, 2013

so much depends

the simple school

dashed with red

beside my limp

sometimes college smothers me.

(c) Brooke Otto
a killer in the making.
Melissa Shu Fen
Melissa Shu Fen
Jul 19, 2013

she held the gun in her hand,
a killer in the making.

This poem is about a girl who is sexually abused by her father. They got to a point where she was going to shoot him to make him stop, but she couldn't bring herself to do it (shaking). Well, she did it eventually.

This is my first poem - thus the length. Still an amateur. :)
That bullet made you a killer.
Selena Irulan
Selena Irulan
Oct 8, 2013

Imagine yourself holding a gun,
Pointed to a love one.

Not on a family but a friend,
Someone you knew way back when.

Now Imagine you pulled the trigger,
That bullet made you a killer.

You're such a killer
Nestor David Armas

You're such a killer
On the mike
You should find a dealer
To distribute you like Nike
On every foot,
Get you heard
On every ear,
Grow a root
Spring a word
Leaves; a gear
While the light
You be burning
Bring the fight
With the beat
Lyricists you defeat
Before they even
Get to retaliate
They get to leaving
Their bridges
Never gonna cross
Slip on frozen ridges,
Fountain coin toss;
Wishes never see
Bumble without the bee...
© okpoet

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