I was not codding
dear old Boss
when I gave you the tip,
you'll hear about
Saucy Jacky's
work tomorrow
double event this time
number one squealed a bit
couldn't finish straight off.

ha not the time to get ears for police.

thanks for keeping last letter back till I got to work again.

Jack the Ripper
______
View the actual document here: http://www.casebook.org/images/coddingc.jpg

The letters of Jack The Ripper set to poetic formation. Part the 2nd
______
With appreciation to Casebook: Jack The Ripper, the largest public repository of Ripper-related information.
http://www.casebook.org/index.html

Dear Boss,
I keep on hearing the police have caught me
but they wont fix me just yet.
I have laughed
when they look so clever and talk about being on the right track.

That joke about Leather Apron gave me real fits.

I am down on ******
and I shant quit
ripping them
till I do get buckled.

Grand work the last job was.
I gave the lady
no time to squeal.

How can they catch me now.

I love my work
and want to start again.

You will soon hear of me with
my funny little games.

I saved some of the proper red stuff
in a ginger beer bottle
over the last job
to write with
but it went thick
like glue
and
I cant use it.

Red ink is fit enough I hope
ha. ha.

The next job
I do
I shall clip
the ladys ears
off
and send to the police officers
just for jolly wouldn't you.

Keep this letter back
till I do a bit more work,
then give it out straight.

My knife's so nice and sharp
I want to get to work right away
if I get a chance.

Good Luck.

Yours truly

Jack the Ripper

Dont mind me giving the trade name

PS Wasnt good enough to post this before I got all the red ink off my hands curse it No luck yet. They say I'm a doctor now. ha ha
_____

The letters of Jack The Ripper set to poetic formation. Part the 1st
_____

With appreciation to Casebook: Jack The Ripper, the largest public repository of Ripper-related information.
http://www.casebook.org/index.html

A
B
C
D
E
F
G
H
I
J
K
L
M
N
O
P
Q
R
S
T
U
V
W
X
Y
and
...Z.

Now I know my A-B-C's,
...could you kindly
*******!

Love,
d

...and for with mine own
and simple hands,
i would pick for you
every tulip on the sod,
lay them at your feet
and beg my tears to stop...

falling with you to catch me,
i am Icarus.

wings of wax.

the man in the air of your dreams...

i can no longer understand how now,
this sleeplessness at night,
when the world is waking in other places
so far away from me,
to the ethereal powders of the breeze,
that paints the morning with its poetry,
as the phantom of the love i love,
causes me to awaken with a cry.

It's going to rain, rain, it's going to rain,
those sleek-silver drops will take me back again,
to those cobbled, winding streets,
the raucous, song-filled pubs,
and the green, the green, the red-brick,
granite and oh! the green,
the steaming Earl Grey tea,
of which i love with a yearning need,
waiting, waiting for me,
on that precious island on the sea.

I

i am so much smaller than you
and i can ever
                            believe...
and you are so much smaller
than you and
i know.

i sit within the winds,
those summer breezes,
some gusty gales, perhaps,
feeling
'the tug
               and toss
of its fabulous force
     rippling
     churning
combing the thinning grey hair on my tired head,
my clothing,
                          so indistinct,
flapping,
                  furling,
floating, --filled with this seen-un-seen presence,
     and i know

a am so small,
and my life so
ludicrous,
like the air
that comes
                      and goes
out of its own control,
but,
                                               i am too small,
and unable
to stop this, its invisible assault.

II


when i am a-float upon
the great lakes, the oceans
the
      rolling
                    rivers
i live
like a tiny slab of flotsam or
     driftwood
sailing
             slowly,
circularly,
(oh-so!) quietly
                                running,
reeling the peeling painted oars of my boat
against
the grainy flashing surface of the waters
                                 rumbling,
                                                                                  rolling
                                                                                       away
this insatiable yearning
to go wherever it takes me to go, but
i know
              i am very small,
and cannot control the eddy's creeping currents-
constant-currents
thus
          submitting
my wayfaring self
to the
unfathomable.

III
__

these trees towering
                                         above me
around me,
the sapling,
the blanketing
                              (in my lifetime)
                                blooming branches
creating
an emotional, outer, physical, inner, spiritual
                              dwindling
like the leaves left shivering beneath the cold winter's frost,
once casually
                falling,
                              dropping,
drying up around my soul
slipping
into silent winter slumber,
to awaken
                     again...
                                    --and then!
(to the dismay of my self-enlightened discovery)
i see
how small
                                            i am
only to return again
from that brownish-moist
soil-bed
                like a seed
beneath
                  the ground
                                        never sprouting,
only fogetting,
the once and always forvever
and ever
the natural
insignificance
                                                                 of being.

When I walk alone and by myself
for a day or two or perhaps a minute,
nothing makes sense and everything does,
and I want to write without words
and love myself while hating me, too,
and prove to you the world is ours
or maybe just yours
when all is paved in pain
like some puzzle missing pieces vital.
But only when I walk alone.

When I have to be with you
for an entire day or a few minutes,
it all makes sense and it doesn't
and I want to talk in silence
and be your friend and maybe more
and prove virility while wrestling the lions
or just by simply holding you
when the tears fall from your eyes
like the blood from one thousand wounds
but only when I have to be with you.

Coffee and Tea, I'll take them both,
Light me up another smoke,
Have a piece of Shoo-Fly pie,
Hear the birdies in the sky,
Take my pen in trembling hand,
Compose some poetry, if I can.

The only place I feel safe
When the world has become cold
When all else has failed me
You're the only one that still stands
When wondering this earth alone with not a place to call my own
Not a friend with a shoulder to cry
Not a place with a solace to seek
It is you that finds me
Embraces my soul within
Comforts the turmoil that encircles my existence
Providing your assurance
Your assurance to never deposit more on me than I can bear
Enveloping me as I realize I am naught but mortal man
Cradling me as my essence cries out in affliction
Your peace takes hold of me
Ushering me into your perfect will
Breathing strength into the chambers of my heart
Holding me, I am constricted in your sight
Shielding me in the shadows of your wings
I hear angelic whispers as I lay lethargic
I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me
Angel wings gently brush against my face
I awake to find all that I am is in all that you are
All of my burdens are cast upon you
My sorrows you have taken
Your serenity you have given
Freely upon me your love eternal now resting

Streaming glitter
Suspended laughter
Delayed happiness
Evident abasement
Surmounting fears
Shadows dance in torment

Pleasant gestures
Pretence abundant
Deferred bliss
Creeping obscurity
Empathizing stares
Lured smiles led to drown

Malevolent touch
Masked intentions
Insubordinate emotions
Disappearing identity
Longing spirit
Laughter is beheaded

Joyful wickedness
Jeweled thorns
Loving stabs
Poisoned kisses
Unassuming mortal
Beauty lays dead

My heart is as vast as the earth I now stand on.
I love with the might of seas that rage,
In the same manner so my heart breaks.
With rough tumbling crashes of waves pelting my fragile body.
Defenseless to the matters of the heart.
Pain felt in sickness or battle, none can compare.
To the pain that just is, not to be felt in one place, but destroys the whole being.
To be broken hearted is to feel abandoned by love.
The feeling of death though still alive.
Is there a place where we may go to escape the feeling within?
Is there a river where we may go to drown the pain that lingers and threatens to destroy our souls?
The crippling feeling of nothingness taking over with every breath.
Suffocated by the very air that we breathe.
I want to leave this land.
This land that is scorched by tears and agony,
Ravished by betrayal and loss.
Destroyed by the selfishness of man.
My heart longs to go back home.
To the place where danger was unforeseen.
Where love smiled so beautiful.
So beautiful that my strength left me as it did Solomon in the days of old.
As I fell weakened to my knees,
The wraith of murdered love crept in and gutted out my very heart,
Stolen in the night.
My only hope at this hour is that my heart seeks its abode,
And returns to the place where it once slept in the comfort of love.