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Alienpoet Dec 2022
I am so nasty
people stand aghast
I am so bad
you feel a draft
on a summers day
murderous glances pave the way
I am sick, I am ill
babe with every hero it’s a battle of wills

I am so abrasive
I am like invasive surgery
I am so evil I burn bibles and call it purgatory
the devil herself could learn from me
I want pounds of flesh so burn with me

I am deathly shade
stalking the sun
I am the nightmare
in the night you run
I am evil
I told you to die
but chances are you’re petrified

I am so dishevelled
I make Darth Sidious look sprightly
Sith Lords can’t fight me
With just one flick of my fingers
death lingers
I am psychologically deranged
so psychopathically strange
you wondered if I was ever sane
I just got back from Frankenstein’s lab
I killed the hulk yes I am that strong and bad
I framed Sherlock Holmes
and made him into an ****** addict
cause all my plays our that strategic
I even cheat death
in fact I own Azrael’s blade
I am villain the one you crave.
Sylvania Redleaf Apr 2019
There was a head in the fridge and a mouse in the blender
If I had been John, I’d have put you six feet under
You played the game, you thought you were smart
I used to wish Moriarty would burn out your heart
But now that you’re gone, I want you back
Why’d you have to make the fall of Reichenbach?
This was going to be about Moriarty, but then I thought of this and just went with it. :)
Vale Luna Aug 2017
Maintain a distance
Of at least three feet
Cuz a close encounter
Is more bitter than sweet

Just one step too close
And she's inside your head
Just one step too close
And soon you'll be dead

She'll make you believe
That she can help you
That whatever you want
Is what she wants too

But once she's inside
Her wicked voice rings
By then, you're enslaved
To do her bidding

Her thoughts are inhuman
She doesn't feel pain
She's clearly unmatched
When it comes to the brain

But please don't be tricked
By her dark mind games
What she's trying to do
Is drive you insane

Who is she, you ask?
She's the east wind that blows
Well haven't you guessed?
Her name is Eurus.
For all the BBC Sherlock fans!
R Arora Feb 2016
Too thrilled by the case,
Sherlock just disappears,
To begin with a chase,
John is let alone,
To get a cab, and go to Baker St. .
But wait- wherever he goes,
The telephone booth starts ringing!
He waits for somebody to pick up,
And continues to walk;
The third booth starts ringing,
The caller must be desperate to talk.
A black, shiny car,
Pulls over for John to ride,
The destination seemed far,
In this conversation-less hour.
"Anthea", answered the accompanying secretary,
When asked her name,
Fake it was,

The anxiety was over,
John was confronted by a well-dressed man,
Who offered him money, to spy,
The guy, who deduced Watson's army background,
By his tan.
The "arch-enemy" of Sherlock,
As he introduced himself,
Told John about his psychosomatic disorder,
"You are back in the game,
You don't fear danger,
You've missed this lifestyle."
True it was,
Pretty much,
"Could be dangerous", wrote Sherlock,
And there he was dashing into 221B.

Sherlock was quite disappointed,
When he got to know about the declination,
Of that tempting offer,
"Pity, we could've split the fee",
He suggested John for the next time.
Isn't Mr. Holmes quite irksome,
Calling John from the other end of London,
Just to send a text?
No, this was not an ordinary text,
An SMS was just sent,
By Mr. Watson's phone,
To the murderer.

The murderer?
But why?!
Elementary for SH.
Found the case within an hour,
Which was now in front him.
His mind, is truly above par!
One thing missing from the suitcase:
Her organizer, her phone.
"Nah, she's is a clever woman,
A serial adulterer,
Would never leave her phone at hotel",
This Holmes said, backed by balance of probability.

They waited at a restaurant,
And the wait was long,
But worth it.
Had to chase a taxi,
which was done successfully,
Thanks to Sherlock's excellent memory.
Hence proved it was,
The psychosomatic limb of Doctor.

A drugs bust had occurred at their place,
Seriously, this man, a deduction ******, would have drugs?
"I'm not a psychopath Anderson,
I'm a high functioning sociopath,
Do your research!"
Snapped Mr. Punchline.
Just a couple of minutes later,
This brilliant sleuth realized-
"Rachel! Yes, Rachel!
This woman in pink, Jennifer,
Is clever,
And she's dead!",
much to Mr. Holmes's displeasure.
This is getting longer and longer...
Alan S Bailey Jul 2015
A penny for your thoughts?
Variety of shades, just beneath
The red-rose of seats where I
Found you by the other day,
It's just this lie filled special
Cover that keeps all the "pests"
At bay, it's also the family
That you gunned down in a
Movie theater because they "had a
Need to be slayed,"
you thought
It made sense at the time that you were
Just "a little" nuts, *but some of us
Still don't give a fat flying %@#$!!!
Elioinai Apr 2015
WE count the broken lyres that rest
Where the sweet wailing singers slumber,
But o'er their silent sister's breast
The wild-flowers who will stoop to number?
A few can touch the magic string,
And noisy Fame is proud to win them:--
Alas for those that never sing,
But die with all their music in them!

Nay, grieve not for the dead alone
Whose song has told their hearts' sad story,--
Weep for the voiceless, who have known
The cross without the crown of glory!
Not where Leucadian breezes sweep
O'er Sappho's memory-haunted billow,
But where the glistening night-dews weep
On nameless sorrow's churchyard pillow.

O hearts that break and give no sign
Save whitening lip and fading tresses,
Till Death pours out his longed-for wine
Slow-dropped from Misery's crushing presses,--
If singing breath or echoing chord
To every hidden pang were given,
What endless melodies were poured,
As sad as earth, as sweet as heaven!
By Oliver Wendell Holmes
Neha D Jun 2014
When complexities increase in number,
brashly jerking me from slumber,
When dilemma stares me in the face,
dragging me into the modern rat race,
I simply ask myself, what would Holmes do?

When there is a downpour of worries all at once,
forcing me to gaffe about and act like a dunce,
When diabolical questions pop up now and then,
making me ponder how and when,
I ask myself,what would Jeeves do?

If only Mr. Holmes were to be my guide,
and the inimitable Jeeves were by my side,
My remotest feelings to them I'd confide,
without having them rebuke or chide,
because Holmes and Jeeves would know what to do.

While Holmes would take the bull by its horns,
Jeeves would provide against obstacles and thorns,
Holmes would know  what to say,
Jeeves would put in a tactful way,
because Holmes and Jeeves would know what to do.  

So, when headaches and woes come in fleets,
I go in my mind to those London streets,
I consult them with a problem or two,
Because Holmes and Jeeves know exactly what to do.
Dear Emma Watson -
Shall we make love
The object of
Our spiritual quest

Surely an altogether
Better option
Than pairing you off
In a commentary box
With one John Motson
Discussing twenty two
Pairs of socks
Chasing a piece of leather?

If spiritual questing
Is not for you
I will make do
With tightly tied pairs of shoes
Existential emus,
Sylvia Plath and Ted Hughes.

Whilst hoping you find
Your Sherlock Holmes,
Miss Watson
I will content myself with
Cataloguing my collection of
Black and white combs.

I also have plots on
Which I need to work -

Wednesday Addams's love of
Moon dried tomatoes

Or Erica Roe
Somewhere in Portugal
Growing sweet potatoes
For sale.

Don't let anyone tell you
There ain't no perks
To being an Omega Male.

— The End —