#execution poems on Hello Poetry

Aa Harvey Dec 2018

Mop

Mop

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.

#pirates #execution #death #deceit #acceptance #revenge #honour #lies #betrayal #silence

A Nov 2018

Ruins

I believed myself limitless,
A god, if you will,
Unbound by nature and my own mortality,
Or so I thought,

My hands clasped together,
In applause or another's grasp,
Unknowing of my and others' fates,
And such is the folly of youth.

I once drank fine wine,
And bit into apples like those of Eden.

My "friends" were the same,
And I thought of us as loyal fellows,
In war and peace.

It was not to be.

On the fringes of revolution,
Hanging onto it's fragile coattails,
There was a new danger,
The hatred of me and anyone like me,
Those blessed by birth and standing.

I learned quickly of my own ability to fall,
Off a pedestal of my own design and otherwise,
And those I considered friends fled,
And my so-called comrades betrayed.

It was a swift execution,
The beheading swift and true,
They hung a man after me,
Some said it took an hour for him to die.

Now we wander these once-princely ruins,
Afraid of what lies beyond the mortal plane,
Yet craving it,
Some have gone insane,
Others sit in corners and fade into nothingness.

I am neither.

I tell my story to the winds,
To the crashing sea beyond these crumbling walls,
To the birds and the sky.

Sometimes, on the lonely days,
When the sun is buried beneath fat clouds,
And the cool West wind flows over my insubstantial skin,
I can see the barest glimpse of what was once here.

It lasts a mere instant,
Then a seagull will shriek,
And both I and the ruins will fade.

#medieval #execution #fantasy #ghosts #ghost #poem

Samuel Canerday Nov 2018

Song of Lost Sunrise

Wind, wind
Course and blow
Bring us, bring us
Cold and snow

What soon makes even strong boughs break
Will shake the world beneath its wake
Though come morning, these eyes will close
Where we go, the priest says he knows
But I keep my doubt deep in my heart
From life I'd wish to not now depart

Wonder, wonder
Til' the dawn
Wander, wander
Hung and drawn

#dawn #sunrise #song #snow #winter #death #execution

Rick the shoe shine boy May 2018

EXECUTION

typing away at the writer;
like a machine gun
lock and loaded
and ready to fire
ink splattering
like blood and
words shot out
like the fusillade
of the ******
hands tied behind
my back and the
fold has blinded
my eyes with a
cigarette lit and
my senses of
unflappability
prevails again
no last words
no last requests
just barrels of this
machine pointed
at my head and
my heart in all it’s
glory like a man
taking a **** and
it could be all taken
away by the trigger
just as quickly as
the turds flushing
down the river of
cowardice gunslingers
but if you
glint towards the
charlatan of brutes
like a dried up
white elk, then
you’ll know what
a poltroon
really
is

however,
the mastery
of the world
are eager to know
how much they can
squeeze out of you
like blood from a
rock before
they stick a
skewer into your
vitals and roast the
ebullience off of
your pneuma like
a burnt kabob
and that’s why my
gutter fingers must
rip sheet after sheet
from this monkey box
like the slightly torn pages
from the loose hands
of madman, and it all
comes down en masse
like four walls meeting
in corners
like the miraculous cry
from the sadist
like 7 billion in existence
and which one am I?
the cat burglar,
the dream alchemist,
the televangelist,
the czar,
the grand master of underlying,
the time traveler,
the creator of happiness
or just another standing
in front of the execution
line for one last time
because we never know
how many seasons
we have left
until the end

#poem #rick #typewriter #machinegun #execution #blindfolded #cigarette

CE Feb 2018

infanticide

the wretched shackles that bound my wrists clanged together dreadfully as I shook
they themselves being the bindings between my innocence and the gallows patiently awaiting me

the voyeurs shout-
"murderess, o foul murderess!
burn eternally, you foul murderess!"

I am numb to these accusations,
as I am numb to the fear of death

the benevolent masses, the enemies that seek my execution,
these are not evil spirits
and so,
the guilty verdict that once grated against my skin now feels as soft and gentle as the clouds that, too, await me

I have retired the melancholy
I resolve myself to die with the dignity and gentleness that I had conducted myself with from the moment I was given life

I resolve to hold onto the sweetness and maternity that I showed that sweet boy,
that I had used to hold him for the first time

my hands, nothing but affectionate to that boy, my boy
the same hands that loved and cared for him from his very conception,
these are the hands they convict

these hands were supposedly the weapon that choked the life out of that sweet fawn, that I had loved so dearly

and so, these are the hands that are held accountable
bound behind my back, wrapped together tightly

these are the hands of love that have been convicted

so I started reading Frankenstein. Mary Shelly is an amazing writer, I decided to write a poem in her style as practice. I'm quite happy with the result, honestly!

#death #****** #**** #die #execution #prison

Charlotte Huston Jan 2018

Witch Hunt

A noose hung high,
For the man lost of mind -
The town gathered round'
For the hanging tree mound
With shouts
With stones
With condemnation
To an innocent man bound;
A burning avatar yield,
Dead - by word of town.

Why is everything such a witch hunt nowadays? What happened to innocent until proven guilty? People are crazy today!

#execution #hysteria #allegations #town

Neuvalence Dec 2017

A Worrisome Dame

Reviles gnaw on her somber thoughts
as she hangs between beige curtains
tightly thick around her neck
absorbing lachrymal crystals under her eyes
Her many faces retreat—implode under
pressure—like glass borne on a cliff
As for her, herself, come forth many
holding stones—boulders to her—
ready to strike this candle;
intimidated by fire, she melts
And as the flames are roused
watch her re-harden: an exquisite tragedy

#torture #bible #allusion #biblicalallusion #stoning #execution #death

Pauline Morris Jun 2016

The Execution

Welcome to the execution of my mind
Let's open it up and see what we find
Hand me a light it's so very dark inside
The agony seems to be amplified
In here it's so very far from bliss
The demons are starting to hiss
Watch out the blackness is starting to seep out
The sorrow is starting to pour and spout
We must hurry now or we will become infected
Buy what has been inflicted
Killing this poisonous mind we must
To save all of us

#demons #mind #infected #execution #inflicted