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Skittles116 Aug 4
I heard a laugh.
Small, yet deep.
It shook my my heart,
It made me weep.

I heard a shriek.
Shrill and loud,
Never had I heard
Such a terrible sound.

My head it shook.
My ears did bleed.
I fell to my knees,
I started to plead.

I screamed. I trembled.
Both did no good.
For still the man came.
With his axe, with his hood.

Then all sound stopped.
And my head it came clear.
With my thick thoughts,
Went all of my fear.

My tears ceased, and with a grunt,
My death swung his blade.
Thunk. Plop.
In the basket my head laid.

eyes wide
A maniacal smile.
As other heads piled.
Mike Chigo Jul 29
I see a hooded man walk into my neighborhood
Dressed up in black, from the boots to the hood
He prowls the street like a cat in the middle of the night
Walks around hands in his pocket until he reaches his target

Kablaam kablaam kablaam

Gunshots ring in the air
The people disappear
Only to reappear with fear to find their star lying dead

What's his crime? They all asked...
Who's the killer? They all wonder...
Yet nobody knows but the sender
Carlo C Gomez Jul 2020
To entertain
means to be starkers
and dance with veils,
to exoticize war
and tremble in
a thousand rhythms.
Bejeweled as a spy,
don't know why.
Eye of the day,
and a dozen matchlocks
had me inertly settle
upon my knees,
before bending at my waist
to take one last look
at the fiery heavens.
Thomas W. Case's Historical Figure Poetry Challenge, Mata Hari.
Fheyra May 2020
This lamb now caged with lions;
Soon to ride with horses
Face my subjects,—
With an overwritten expression,
Cursed by ballyhoos of vultures.

What a lampoon to be drawn in humanity,—
As they pass to my sight,—
Praying for confession— For a blessing of a new fashion,
May the tomb be the veil of thy busts
Beating drums, I shalt not stagger.

On this stage,— I untied my cloth,
Withstand the shaken land,
I hear the wailing of the sand
Mary whines blood this end..
Her Son's sleigh sweeping me..
Thy queen shalt flood— her fabric traught's pile.

I knelt on the ground,—
People whimpered with no sound
—"Be tamed Black Stalwart, for thou
     art forgiven."
To here falls the dillydoun's saw...

     "The raging agony and weight of
       strife,— May I beseech for Mercy!
       God, save this ****** ghost!—
       Never wilt I feel the land again...
       Light, hoise me up,—when my face

'Whence the uproar sham this throne blown!'
The queen was beheaded on her execution. She was firm in fright, even if she saw her husband with his mistress. She wanted her death to be the omen or the knelling conscience of their treachery.

Remember from "Gossip threats", when rumors circulated of her cheating, that time, she encountered her former lover. It was also the time that the king was plotting for her condemnation with the use of that man. Then from "The **** of Thrones", she met that man again, that concluded her horrific fate.
Justina Julianna Feb 2020
Always made to believe that just because there was hope in the world, meant love would greet you in everything you did. Frustrated by movies and their flawless execution of hope left you daydreaming and teary-eyed. The next day you will forget the hope the movie gave you and carry on afraid. When you give him the bad news that you're inspired but afraid you anticipate confusion. He understands and nods his head as you explain that you loved and it hurt. It hurt so bad that you seek it and then reject it when you remember what you taught yourself about loving. He is in the middle of my mind and my heart and its unfair. I blame the movie.
Lawrence Hall Apr 2019
Maybe the Prisoner was Already Dead

     “...he stepped slightly aside to avoid a puddle on the path.”

                               -George Orwell, “A Hanging”

Evening. Maybe he was already dead
Dead long before the State boys strapped him down
And a functionary started an I.V. drip
Left arm? Or right? In a cinder-block room

Fluorescent lights

With windowed faces posted on both sides
Testaments to the protocols of death
The liturgy of falling away because
He and the lads murdered a helpless man

Fluorescent lights

He breathed. And then he didn’t. His bowels let go
And did they put a Band-Aid on the wound?

Fluorescent lights

But now

Let’s go outside and feel the wind

                                                           ­      We live
Your ‘umble scrivener’s site is:
It’s not at all reactionary, tho’ it might be drivel.

Lawrence Hall’s vanity publications are available on as Kindle and on bits of dead tree:  The Road to Magdalena, Paleo-Hippies at Work and Play, Lady with a Dead Turtle, Don’t Forget Your Shoes and Grapes, Coffee and a Dead Alligator to Go, and Dispatches from the Colonial Office.
Steve Page Mar 2019
Settle down please.
Today you will be trained in Level 1 crucifixion.

First, the nail. Please pass the bag along once you have taken one nail each.

You can rely on these nails.
Each one is forged by hand, hammered out and shaped with skill.
'You can nail it with one nail,' as they say.

Nails can be used to fasten almost anything to wood. Choosing the right nail for the job can make a big difference in hold power. As there is no need to conceal the nail head and we require maximum holding power, we have chosen common nails for the job. When the nail is temporary and will be pulled out again, as with crucifixion work, we have found that a double-headed or duplex nail is the best choice. However, due to cut backs, we have reverted to the common flat headed nail.

Experience and common practice calls for driving the nail through the thinner limb into the thicker timber. For maximum holding power, the length of the nail is such that it passes almost, but not quite, through the thicker timber. 

Take a careful look at the illustrations provided. As depicted, for best results lay the condemned on the crossbeam and bind the arms in place on the timber before nailing. I refer you to your ropes and knots training last week.

One nail is sufficient for each upper limb if placed between the forearm bones above the wrist. You will find that some limbs will have been subject to a break beforehand. If this is the case, we advise that you use additional rope to bind the limb to the cross beam and that you select a site for the nail further up the arm if necessary.

Now you are ready to secure the feet. Place the feet together one over the other. Hold them in place while a colleague drives one nail through both feet. Please hold them steady and resist any attempt by the condemned to frustrate your task. Keep steady pressure on the feet while your colleague hammers the nail home.

Before lifting the crixiform into the hollow, ensure each nail has been driven in securely. Once you and your supervisor are satisfied, lift the cruciform in one swift movement ensuring the base slides neatly into the hollow. Two or possibly three of you are needed for this.

This is the greatest test for your handiwork. The impact of the timber landing at the base of the hollow will cause the body to jar under its own weight and place additional strain on the nail. In the event that a nail comes loose, you are advised to lift the cruxiform out and to use a second nail on the unsecured limb.

In most cases this will not be necessary and the condemned will hang securely long enough to allow the body to die, even if this takes several days.

Once death has been confirmed using the accepted method, lift the cruxiform down, remove the nails and inspect them for damage. If deemed reusable, rinse and dry them before storage.

If there are no questions you will now each be assigned to an experienced colleague to assist with a crucifixion. If at any time you feel that you are likely to *****, please use the bucket provided. There's no shame in this, the first time can be quite shocking; there is usually more blood flow than you initially expect. However, you will soon learn how to complete the exercise with skill and professionalism. I have complete faith in you.

Please keep your nail, you'll need it later.
Easter ain't pretty.
courtney Jan 2019
i was a constant mope
in a town with a pope
where i hung by a rope
and i don't think i can cope
LWZ Jan 2019
The grip is tight without remorse
Suppressing memories of my execution
Betrayal sharp and thin as a knife between the spine
The uneasieness of the crippling fear of defeat
Secrets so sick they stench of rotting flesh

Forgiveness is an elixir
A medicine for the pain
Abandon thyself in means
To achieve a place of tranquility

Self is all I have
Self will last indefinitely
Self betrayal is thick
Like mud on the bayou
Like oil on the water
An eye for an eye
Vengeance, as the mere result of vulnerability

Free yourself,
Let it go
Find a way to feed your soul.
Aa Harvey Dec 2018

Upon this death I see before me,
Four stood soldiers waiting patiently.
Beneath my feet I guess there could be,
An empty space of contemplation.
I built this place for only my eyes to see.
I come here occasionally when I need a vacation.

I am bound to watch the day pass.
I plead ignorance with such sincerity.
Because I stole a broach, apparently, in the past,
I am tied to the mast, by the quarter mast.
Nobody believes in me and as the sun burns my eyes,
I cannot close them for they hold no water inside.
The lid upon my soul is dry,
But I am yet to truly sink into the depths of my subconscious.
I can still hear them talking all their meaningless phrases,
Sounding like a thousand drunken babies,
As I honorably sink deeper into the abyss.

Communication breakdown, silence of the ages,
And all is but a single drop in the ocean; gone are all the praises.
This life of mine hangs in the balance and from the rafters.
I would not jest simply for the amusement of laughter.
With a face of iron, I am all done a-lying.
Stoically I still proclaim to tell the truth from upon high,
For soon I will be dying.

And then I spot the villainous rake,
And all of his duplicitous, surreptitious plots,
That wrap around their feeble minds,
Like the coil of a snake’s tail; their will is soon gone.
So they follow him into the darkness so blind;
Tongue tastes like dust from the burning sunshine.
It intoxicates all the other ship mates into seeing guilty.
Through all their mistakes they have misjudged me.

I am not, nor have I ever been, an infallible being,
But I was never ever seen to steal anything.
I never truly took, because I never truly looked, deep into the chest.
They ripped out my heart in search of plunder through contempt.
Now I stand here lost and all alone;
Shattered through not only a lack of food, but my lost home,
Has been taken from me, by those who would lie.
Why try to enlighten those who will not hear my side?

If I ever speak of this tale again,
Then you should know, I know your face, for it caused me this pain,
And on the day when we come to rest upon the shore,
Or even if we sink, slowly to the ocean floor;
I will remember all you took from me and I will rise with rage.

My silver piece, my one of eight,
They stole it from me and tossed it into the silver plate.
The trust of my shipmates broken this day,
When the end truly comes I will rise again.
I will point a solitary finger in only your direction,
And you will have to look away to hide your guilty expression;
But I never mentioned, just left them guessing.
We are all dead men walking, this death is a blessing.

(C)2018 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
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