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Three thousand feet up! Up the side of Mount Crumpit,

He rode to the tiptop to dump it!

"Pooh-pooh to the Whos!" he was grinch-ish-ly humming.

"They're finding out now that no Christmas is coming!

"They're just waking up! I know just what they'll do!

"Their mouths will hang open a minute or two

"All the Whos down in Who-ville will all cry BOO-HOO!"...



At the top of the mountain he untied his dog

From the sleigh. And the valley was filling with fog

As thick as the Who Hash he'd grinched just before.

He chuckled with glee at what was in store.

Now the Grinch grabbed the sacks from the top of the sleigh,

And with a mighty "HEAVE **!" he shoved them away.

The bags filled with toys well they weaved and they shook

With the weight of the things he so sneakily took.

Until finally momentum made things far less slow.

They fell 3000 feet to the jagged rocks below.

A sickening crunch and several sharp cries

At first startled the Grinch but caused him to realize

When he stole from the Whos down in Whoville his pride

Had gotten the best of him; he'd thrown some children inside.

He giggled maliciously, grabbed his dog Max

And got back in the sleigh, for he couldn't relax.

He had to go back, for his job wasn't done.

All the Whos down in Whoville, every last one

Every man, every woman, every daughter and son

Would be dead in their beds by the dawn of the sun.

The trip down Mount Crumpit was faster than up

As he growled to himself, "where's that ***** with the cup?"

He jumped off the sleigh, machete in hand

And marched straight into Whoville, whose gates could not stand

For the rage made him strong. How he hated the Whos

With their **** cheesy smiles, and their dumb pointy shoes,

Turned up noses and pigtails and hideous songs,

THE SONGS, THE SONGS, HOW HE HATED THE SONGS.

And now he'd make sure that the Whos sang no more...

At Cindy Lou Who's house he kicked down the door

And strode into the bedroom of Cindy Lou Who.

She woke with a start, murmured "Santa? That you?"

The Grinch, with a sneer, grabbed Lou Who by the hair,

****** her out of bed seven feet in the air,

And with two sharp knives pinned her arms to the wall.

Her screams roused her parents just down the hall.

They ran to their child to save her from harm.

The mistake that they made cost them each their right arm.

Writhing on the floor in their own ****** mess,

They looked at the Grinch in a state of distress.

"Why would you do this?" they managed to hurl,

"Please, you can **** us, just not our little girl!"

He listened to their pleas with a wry little smile,

He patiently heard them, then after a while,

He cut out their tongues with another sharp knife,

First of the husband, and then of the wife.

Then he turned to young Cindy with glee,

And hissed in her ear, "you'll do something for me..."

Cindy shook her head violently, but to no avail,

For the Grinch had the tongues on a rusty old nail.

He shoved them down her gullet. She started to choke,

Then she finally died, for the rusty nail broke.

He stepped over the body of mother Lou Who,

And the Grinch slithered over to house #2.

With this house he made quick work of the Whos.

He set them on fire to cure them of the "blues."

The blaze that resulted would spread down the street,

Drawing Whos from their houses like flies to dead meat.

A grenade waited for them in center of town.

A click, then a boom mowed, like, half of them down.

The other half attempted a weak attack.

With a Type-67 the Grinch kept them back.

The little Who children could do nothing but stare

In open-mouthed horror as the Grinch, without care,

Shot them down one by one till the snow was stained red,

And he would not stop firing till they were all dead.



And as the sun rose oe'r the grisly scene,

The Grinch drenched in blood of adult, child, and teen,

With a pentagram smack in the center of town,

And the tree in the middle would slowly burn down.

With the scalps of the Whos down in Whoville in hand,

The Grinch called his dog Max, who could barely stand

Because he was violently shaking in shock.

He could not even whimper, let alone walk.

Not a Who was left standing, not a song to be heard,

Save for that of a single Who bird

Which was quickly snuffed out by a single pistol round.

And after that there was not a sound.

The Grinch, his work finished, got back in the sleigh,

Cracked the whip over Max, and slithered away.

The last thing the poor town of Whoville would hear:

"If there's anyone left, well, I'll come back next year!"
Carlo C Gomez Mar 2022
jaeger.
chasseur.
foxtail.
seduction of fascism in mind,
like tumbling autumn leaves
ever and always
on the steps of a country house.
always and ever
just outside the aix-les-bains dance hall.
his blousy new bride
and her old lover
aware of his sympathies and
  the danger he presents to them.

jaeger.
chasseur.
foxtail.
seduction of fascism in mind,
ever and always
on a deserted alpine road.
always and ever
one trail of blood,
remnant of the preyed upon.
she screams against the glass,
quiet devil in the backseat
haunted by the disorder
  of his own mind.

eyes opened to
his own mutability.
alienation is immanent,
bred in the bone.
a desperate need for gravitas,
built upon vaporous credulity.
and she is pursued through the woods
ever and always,
through iridescent fields
always and ever,
until finally in his crosshairs
  she falls.

those like him have not suddenly
vanished from the earth, but
  are merely lying in wait.
vega Jan 2022
come wash your sin with me,
i am a flightless soul covered in gossamer
i am love in the form of locks
you cannot unchain with bared teeth
and bare skin and the blade
of the twisted dagger strapped against your thigh
i adore your spirit but i do not
adore you. i am a capricious madness
drink me to excess if you so wish
me to be—a cold chestful of chemical smoke
a sink full of the remnants of
an unborn child, eject me
i am unwanted, i am a wanted hallelujah
with a swollen-gum smile in every
lithographed dead or alive poster, please save me
please buy black water lilies
for my funeral the priest won’t attend
please let the worms make homes out of my
gaping throat, and i shall whisper unto
you. one last time. it will be done
unto your will without wisdom
i am corruption in the form of conscience
i am the riptide washing away your firstborn son
with the taste of ****** verona.
Samir Mohammed Jan 2022
Roses are red
Violets are violets
Everyone is dead
Why is it always violence?
selina Dec 2021
they say it's a god-given right
a necessity, meant to be
a part of the American life

but tell me, do you know what it's like
to have to the cold steel of a barrel
pressed between your innocent eyes?
note: i am not completely againsts the second amendment. i am against the fact that our government allows businesses to hand out guns to people the way people give free candy on halloween— to practically anyone and everyone, even if they don't deserve it or need it.
Carlo C Gomez Nov 2021
~
Blue and red make purple
Red and green make yellow
What a bride hides
Makes one strange bedfellow

~
Chris Hutchison Nov 2021
She raised you, and gave you all she had
You did not listen
She was not overbearing
But she needed your bareness
The awareness
You lost long ago
She let you go into the wild, to make your own choices
Even if those choices mean her death
Knife in your hand with garlic breath
Joyous in the ****
Veiled violent negligence
Oblivious malevolence
Your innocent eyes
Red tinted, devilish yet despondent
Pontificate of poison
A laughing fat hedon
Crying now for pardon
But you will never **** her. She is bigger than you
Mother doesn't care
She will break you without blinking
She is Pandora and soon you will know
How hot the soil scorches, and how hard the wind may blow
Uzo Okoli Nov 2021
Who loves me always?
Desperate to have me glow!
As I move from the North
Helping my dying neighbours from the south.

Banging of boots scare the ears
Ammunition conquers the reddish eyes
Wars ravaging the human soul
Who admires me?

Dialogue beautifies the conscience
Acrimony governs the senseless
Monstrous nobles become opulent
As they smile to the vault

Deaths gladden the weak
Nations get weakened by the feeble
Cries of the desperate beckon for love
With love, peace is the ultimate.
We all crave for peace and love!
jaden Nov 2021
i keep watching my head get blown off in living color
sitting on a bench in 42 degree weather and across the platform there’s me
head firmly attached to neck
neck firmly attached to shoulders
and a resounding boom.
the train rushes by and i’m gone and back on this side of the platform there’s me
head firmly attached to neck
neck fully attached to shoulders
and a ring building in my ears.
i keep watching my head get blown off in black white
in the middle of the night and under the covers
i am shaking
head attached to neck
and neck to shoulder but i am shaking because
i keep watching my head get blown off
i am doing better it was just a rough time
Broken Pieces Oct 2021
There is violence all around,
I'm not sure what to do.
I feel so useless now,
How can I help you?

We are all falling apart now,
I'm trying to help you see.
Kicking, slapping, falling apart,
Please listen to me.

Lower your stupid pride,
The guilt is swallowing you.
You can't just run away,
Please just say you're sorry too.

Violence, violence all around,
I just want to scream and shout.
I'm trying not to fall apart,
But you think I'm trying to pout.
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