Walked into the bar and

took her with a sentence

I’m not charismatic,
I’m infectious

She looked at me and said
“I must have a death wish—
but let’s go home sugar”

I took her.

They’re all the same,
these wenches

Wake up
Kill her, eat breakfast

Mail her body—headless
To her mommy

Carved into the neck
the words: “You’re next, bitch”

follow me on twitter @johnnyscarlotti
She Writes Dec 2017

Killing me slowly
A prisoner to my mind wholly

By the thoughts in my head
To finally wake up dead

Onomatopiyya Dec 2017

So very messed up
The cloud's dark grey
Everyone's too tired
Hungry as in package

You're asking around
Maybe there's someone
Wants to share
Nor it will all go wasted

It's just frustrating
This ego is killing
What to wait
It's your call

These eyes met
Went all speechless
Plain and nothing
Again the ego wins

this diet of dirt erodes my teeth.
perhaps i'm rotting for shock value --
flashes of cameras -- a bloodborne shortcut to heaven.

i succumb to death a patriot:
red and white and asphyxia blue.
(we can't all drown like maidens.)

you smile and loosen your grip on my throat
to gnaw at and pick the flesh clean off my bones.

solfang Dec 2017

I wish to be
an infamous serial killer,
that targets love-thirsty men.

I mean,
wouldn't it be interesting
to slash through their hearts,
with sharp, flirtation glances,
or cutting through entrails
to look for stomach butterflies,

what about blowing up their minds,
when I don't respond to convos,
and kneeing them with shrugs
till they beg for attention.

I was victimised,
before I can even morph into
a cold-blooded murderer myself

then I realise my looks are not good enough for it. oh well.
Mark Wanless Dec 2017

"I Saw The Wolf"

I saw the wolf face
I went
The journey was long
Lasted to the never

There was a bloody place
I went
Killing was the song
The memories i remember

you can't believe someone has been to a place you have never  seen?
Brent Kincaid Dec 2017

I flew over to his land
With a rifle in my hand.
They told me who to shoot
I shot him, that’s the truth.
They said he threatened me
So, I responded violently
Now the foreigner I found
Is resting under the ground.

From thousands of miles away
Our leaders raised us all this way
To either invade or just pillage
Every hamlet and village
Where an enemy might hide,
To crush them with our stride.
If they had children in the street
To stomp them with our feet.

The child might carry bombs
So, murder them with aplomb
Because anybody there I see
Might be a sneaky enemy.
That they are fighting for freedom
Fails to be seen as wisdom.
After all, we are sparkly white
And that means we are right.

Besides, the rich people at home
Especially in the Capitol Dome
Have us to understand the fact
That no matter how weak they act
They are a threat to all we own
So, we can’t just leave them alone
As we demand others do to us.
We can destroy them with no fuss.

We are the right and perfect children
Of a God that in His perfect wisdom
That sees fit to have leaders destroy
Each animal, man, woman, girl and boy.
The same as that God told King Saul
We must continue to do over all.
Even if we don’t understand the book
We worry about how it would look.

Can we, a righteous Christian land
Let things get so out of hand
That they might prosper and we fail?
No, we kill, murder or put into jail
Anyone who does not fully agree.
Thus we can behave unilaterally
To force others to do our will
Even if it’s innocents we have to kill.

So I came here with many others
To shoot, bomb and burn out mothers
And fathers and children and crops
And decimate this country without stop.
Because we are the righteous ones
And that is why this war was begun.
Not because some leader needed war.
They told us this is not was it is for.

The accountants can show us numbers
For materiel like fuel, cars and lumber
And how the industrial industry profits
Then insist protests are to scoff at.
They insist only our leaders have the wisdom
To decide who will end up with freedom
They were the ones choose at will
Who they sent me here to kill.

Fynn Nov 2017

The curtain falls, flickering lights
light the ground and reveal the scene
The life is a stage, with vertiginious heights
and death is our final performance

Murder requires perfection
It requires the pure lack of feeling
And what is life, what is satisfaction
without the euphoria of killing

Everyone wears a mask
I just chose to create my own
And I will not stop and finish my task
until your body will drop down

Im on the chase,
wont reveal my face
I will finally end your disgrace

The sound of my gun
as proud as an eagles scream
like a whisper of death
and a promise of salvation
leaves fear and terror
wherever it speaks

The gunsmoke evaporates
and this blossom of blood
That the shot created on the ground
this never ending beautiful flood
And the wonderful aspect
of the silenced sound

Killing is art
And madness is just inspiration

Im not a psychopath. Sometimes poetry requires a certain cruelty.
This is just for entertaining purposes.
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