"executed" poems
*she dragged me out of the house
knowing i was feeling down
not allowing me to wallow
in my self pity,
she dressed me,
painted my face
fashioned my hair,
that’s my girl friend
at Juliana’s,
small family owned Italian restaurant,
a gem of a find, she said,
Lorenzo, greeted her with familiarity
(she leaves a memorable impression)
she introduced me as her bestie
with a twinkle in her eye
young (as all under 30 people are to me)
handsome, dark thick curly haired,
with dancing eyes,
a serving towel over his left arm
nodded with a genuine smile
i smiled back despite my mood
wine was swirled, smelled,
sampled and selected
a captivating performance,
executed expertly
she watched me
watching him
describe the specials
with a melodic Italian accent
transforming my mood
garlic knots wafting with his stride,
placed on the table
with a small bowl of marinara sauce
still hovering
in his long lean fingers
it slipped,
splattering red stain
on the pristine white cloth
without skipping a beat
his eyes poured into mine
words emerged
“forgive me, your beauty made me nervous”*
Dec 6, 2017
Dec 6, 2017 at 8:34 AM UTC
The strike of the rainbow warriors
After a few hours in the dark cages of horror we suddenly see a sharp light in the sky of evil. The golden goddess notices another ship coming towards the devils spike city.
At that moment the orange and black pirates run towards their ships in dock and sound a long dark horn of terror. The golden goddess notices a large rainbow type ship sailing in firing laser rays at the pirates vessels of evil.
The ship sets into the dock of spike city while some remaining pirates get cut down and captured with blue laser nets of torture. Our eyes open with horror when rainbow type creatures with bows and arrows jump out of the ship and circle our cages of horror.
A few of the black pirate in the purple bushes try and shoot the rainbow warriors but get cut down with their laser fast arrows. The commander of the rainbow warriors suddenly jumps down from the ship and lifts up the cages with power and ease while the warriors round up the captured pirates.
I comfort a shaking luitent megs while the commander shakes our hands before releasing the other golden warriors from their dark cage. The horses bow their heads towards the commander while the golden goddess looks with hope in her beaten heart.
All of a sudden two rainbow warriors march out a swearing and aggressive woman holding a long jagged sword and pirates armband. The rainbow warriors quickly zap her evil body and hold her down tightly . The golden goddess goes over for a better look while her long tongue of nails cuts of a warriors head off with ease.
The rainbow warriors chop her evil tongue off with a swipe of the rainbow sword before pinning her to the cold ground. two of the warriors then begin to peel her black dress of horror off while other rainbow braves flock around.
A curious golden goddess peeps though for a better look while the warriors are undoing her small black studded bra of terror. The goddess looks on with a smile and twinkle while she screams in anger at her ******* bouncing in the dark cold night.
All of a sudden the commander comes inside the circle of torture and begins removing her devilish red ******* while the warriors cheer and scream. The golden goddess looks on with a content smile while the warriors chop her body up into bit with their glowing swords.
After a few minutes the rest of the pirates are shot and executed with laser bouts while we all sit watch with open mouths of horror. The commander then takes us aboard the rainbow ship of safety while the pirates come back to evil spike city with four more pirate ships of torture.
We all sail across the red evil sea towards a big large rainbow in the glowing yellow sky whilst being followed by two black pirate ships. Once we reach through the rainbows end we begin to notice the water turning bright pink and the pirate ships turning back towards the red river of horror.
A relived golden goddess turns towards her army and smiles while we we all jump about on the rainbow ship of safety. I hold luitent megs tight in my arms while the green moon sets across the blue landscape in the distance.
written by wayne mockler
ownership and copyright wayne mockler
Apr 25, 2020
Apr 25, 2020 at 2:34 PM UTC
Lost connection with everything,
Lost memories of my own being.
Fail to remember what made me smile,
Fail to see what makes life worthwhile.
Going through life half dead,
Going through everyday like I was just made.
Nothing to make me feel again,
Nothing that follows me but pain.
Deep inside I know its in my head,
But I guess its harder executed than said.
I'll wait, then for that something,
I'll push through life like everyday was a fling,
Till something happens,
Till somehow it happens.
I'll wait.
Dec 17, 2014
Dec 17, 2014 at 8:04 AM UTC
“Angelica arguta”,
He shows her his wildflowers
“Angelica Susannah”, he says.
And prodded further by her
His heart.
Lingers briefly with the night;
Her affection has power,
But not enough
To keep him
From marching off to fight.
Tristan, son of One Stab,
Brings wildness from the mountains.
Lovely woman from the East,
Fascinated by her,
His passion.
Revels in her bridal bower,
And stops her
Loving any other.
Alfred, eldest son of his father,
Full of rectitude and romance.
Angelica abandoned,
Adrift between the mountains
Becalmed far from the sea.
He takes advantage,
Snatches her soul with riches,
But never captures
Her longing heart.
Years pass and one son gone,
The other lost and mad.
Year of the red grass and
Happiness found
Is felt too soon.
Tristan loves young Isabel,
But Angelica is his doom.
Yet only he survives
The waves that lash her shore,
“Like water in the ice,
She breaks them.”
And in the Spring,
Is gone once more.
Angelica Susannah is buried
Above the box canyon in the meadow
Among the many dead.
Near Samuel’s heart,
The executed Isabel,
And others who follow soon.
Until only Tristan remains,
Left to hunt his nemesis,
The bear inside him.
And dream of one wife lost,
And a lover left behind:
Angelica Susannah
Beside whom he should lie.
He is slain by the bear in Sixty-three,
After forty years of solitude.
And laid to rest in the plot
Between two women he loved,
Isabel, his ingenuous wife
And Susannah, his tragic love.
Do their spirits meet at last
And wander the golden fields,
Or ride out to bathe in the hot springs,
Under the moon of the falling leaves?
Aug 6, 2018
Aug 6, 2018 at 10:37 AM UTC
The end is becoming clearer
Disaster is spreading wider above areas
The time of joy is finally a closure
Society has lost it's power
War is rumbling, errupting in any second
Mother nature is crying, deforestation at it's worst
Earth is collapsing, balance is thrown off
Peace is dying, anarchy starts rising up
The leaders become corrupted
The idiots become famous
The truth-tellers become executed
The innocents become jobless
Feb 19, 2014
Feb 19, 2014 at 8:25 PM UTC
Your seduction has been unfair,
Though you could not help it, my dear.
My heart melts with the thoughts you share
And aloe smoothness of your hair.
Executed so ruthlessly,
You constantly seducing me,
With love given innocently,
You did it all so carelessly.
I’m smitten and I can’t let go,
Seduced by all the things you know,
You made my desire overflow,
Just by affection that you show.
I’m a slave to your seduction,
Mastermind of will’s abduction,
From our very introduction,
I was lost to your seduction.
Jan 20, 2019
Jan 20, 2019 at 10:04 PM UTC
Just as you are different to me,
I cannot understand you.
Every move you make
Every thought, expression
That passes across your eyes;
They say eyes are the window into the soul
But your eyes are expressionless
Blank as a stone slate
Cold as a stone slate
How could you **** someone?
Don't you feel guilty?
The dark malice hidden away in those beautiful eyes
Spur-of-the-moment thoughts, uncontrollable impulses.
How did I fall for you?
People still ask me, every day.
Do you still love her?
How do I answer that?
All those memories we shared,
Every photo taken,
I still look back at them, sometimes.
And feel the toxic rush of happiness
Of fondness, of love.
Love for a serial killer.
While you comforted me,
Gently held me,
Assuring me,
Everything was going to be alright,
You tortured, tore apart others
Who were different from me.
You're a murderer, a criminal.
You took a life, intentional
Every move and calculated plan
All executed like a falling guillotine.
Unstoppable. Deadly.
How did I fall for you?
People still ask me.
I still remember, the memories we shared.
Every gentle word and loving touch,
Filling me with toxic happiness.
How did I fall for you?
How do I answer that?
The best answer, I think,
Is that you were different.
Dec 7, 2020
Dec 7, 2020 at 9:38 PM UTC
You were beaten and bruised,
for the sinful likes of me;
three nails pierced Your flesh,
as You were hung… at Calvary.
An unthinkable act of Love
was cruelly executed for me;
for You took the punishment,
that had been… meant for me!
With forgiveness on Your breath,
You requested a pardon for those,
who carried out judgment on You,
as a death sentence was imposed.
A spear was ****** in Your side,
as Your demise was underscored;
when it was mundanely removed,
both blood and water had poured.
[chorus]
On The Cross of Calvary,
Love was brokenhearted;
Salvation was paid in full;
Grace’s flow was started.
[bridge]
We don’t fully understand,
God’s goodness towards us;
Sin’s debt was wiped out,
by the sacrifice of Jesus.
We adore Him, since Christ
had truly loved us first;
He bore the painful brunt
of payment for Sin’s curse.
.
.
.
Author notes
Inspired by:
1 Pet 2:24; Gal 3:10-14; 1 John 4:19
Learn more about me and my poetry at: http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2016, All rights reserved.
Feb 20, 2016
Feb 20, 2016 at 8:37 PM UTC
My world is folded
My mind is bent
Manipulated by
And itself
manipulating language
To counter the real
The brutal
With fragile structures
Language
A simple
Immaculate beauty
Though filthy at times
It can be turned
And flexed
with verbs and adverbs
Mistakes can be erased
Folded and written
My mind
This world
Where we meet
Is beauty
Imagined and executed
It is my escape
Mar 26, 2013
Mar 26, 2013 at 5:34 AM UTC
Lo and behold! The idiot has returned
The people ask why
I shrug and head turn
There he walks with his idiot stance
I watch him angrily
As he does his dumb prance
I remember his mind, so simple but true
We talked a lot in the past
I think his IQ is less than two
Great Scott! I cry for this hurts me so
He should be executed
Or have his ******* cut off for show
I am filled with anger every time he breathes
How did he live this long?
He should just stand in a busy street
Alas, there is nothing I can do
What a shame
I think he needs some counseling too
Good grief! I don't thinks his parents did well
Raising a half-wit delinquent
Oh isn't that just swell?
May this be a warning to you and to all
Be wary of idiots
For their brains are small
Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 8:44 AM UTC
As a child
I put my finger in the fire
to become
a saint.
As a teenager
every day I would knock my head against the wall.
As a young girl
I went out through a window of a garret
to the roof
in order to jump.
As a woman
I had lice all over my body.
They cracked when I was ironing my sweater.
I waited sixty minutes
to be executed.
I was hungry for six years.
Then I bore a child,
they were carving me
without putting me to sleep.
Then a thunderbolt killed me
three times and I had to rise from the dead three times
without anyone’s help.
Now I am resting
after three resurrections.
4k
This new world order
is more like disorder.
such a serious disorder
psychological disorder!
There's no more Syria
all is left is Fearia
and here in Serbia
it's the State of Disturbia
we're severely disturbed,
our minds are polluted
we're like half-people,
alive but executed.
Some big sharks
sharp their teeth on our bones.
World is again invaded by fascists
or their even worse clones!
May 17, 2016
May 17, 2016 at 3:34 AM UTC
The world is a place of unreliability. There is no promise. There are no things to be assured. We can spew words and make them happen; but we can never be certain they will occur until executed. There are people that value themselves more than they value others; although there are people that have the capability to value others over themselves.
We all walk around like we know everything. Like we know God. Like we know death. Like we know love…but we don't know anything. Our feeble minds aren't willing to tell us that. They let us think narcissistic, egocentric and arrogant thoughts; while dismissing the ignorance of it all. All of us aspire highly. Dreaming for success. Hoping one day we can get there.
Then what?
Everyone will forget.
Everyone will be gone, along with the memory of you.
Aug 18, 2014
Aug 18, 2014 at 2:15 AM UTC
The eye of the hurricane
Swept through a country side
Not batting an eye
All those in it's path perish
A mosque, a person, a Muslin
Another, another, another
Until 49 were gunned down
Killed
Executed
And many more injured
Scarred forever
in·dis·crim·i·nate·ly
A finger on a trigger
Held steady
Unmercifully
Picking targets
To cries and screams
With no regard for life
Only for the shooter
To make a name for himself
His message board
His manifesto
His hate of immigrants
Muslims
Leaving in it's path
Bloodshed
A country's darkest day
His infamy
Who is this individual
The eye of the hurricane
Sitting in the middle
Teetering to the right
An extremist
Category of the worst kind
A patch of ******
Sitting in his landscape
Of his sunken mind
Incarceration
Laughing, laughing, laughing
Today, today, today
And this was his trigger
His devil
His dialogue
Today he spoke
Another, another, another
To cries
That echo
Forever
Long after the hurricane
Loses its tail
This makes me sick
I look up in the sky and ask why
Logan Robertson
3/15/2019
Mar 15, 2019
Mar 15, 2019 at 7:23 PM UTC
Their lies are prompted
from teleprompters
and executed flaw-fully
from taxpayer's helicopters.
They say we're protecting
foreign daughters
while filtering profits
to desert clad marauders.
Blank faced public
fear conversing religion and politics
while passively electing
lunatics with trigger switches.
Arm the rebels
they bite the hand that feeds
the middle east burns
while America ******* bleeds.
The white, blue and red
camo helmets on their heads
farm fed frat boys
equipped with jackets of lead.
We watched Saddam crumble
his statue beaten with shoes
but the same war we already fought
the puppets now will choose.
Fight the good fight
support the troops.
Drone strikes by twilight
**** the troops.
An Army of one
Sempter Fi
Do or Die
I won't shed a single tear when you come back in a casket
covered in a flag you valued more than your life.
Our heroes are our welfare
stop blaming single mothers
plastic bags tied around throats
water boarding dissent, it smothers.
**** the Medal of Honor
I'm tearing up your portrait Obama.
How many can benefit from free tuition?
But we give it to those trained to slaughter.
Our priority is the police state
Nazis pretending to tote freedom.
We sip our Americanos
And retain nothing from the newspaper we are reading.
**By Evan Ponter
@evanponter**
Sep 17, 2014
Sep 17, 2014 at 11:34 PM UTC
Ankles bobbed. Cannibal Dan executed female (gorgeous). Hartford Inquirer:
“Justice killing? Love? Money?”
“ No.”
“Oh?”
“People question rationale. Society thinks, ‘Undeserving Victims!’
Well, 'xcept you, Zackary.”
Oct 21, 2012
Oct 21, 2012 at 11:46 PM UTC
It's March in California and,
It feels like an early September evening in Virginia,
An owl is cooing,
A nostalgic singsong that reminds me of the woods behind my parents house,
Comfort seekers in my senses inflate,
Disappearing into a heady haze,
Anything to distract myself from the mini self-betrayal I just executed.
I can watch myself as I do it,
Basking in this nostalgia,
The detachment from my pain easing my shoulders,
Making me feel high,
Or maybe it's the serotonin and dopamine,
Coursing around in my body,
Freely,
As it pleases,
Results of.
The owl is howling and my roommate is home,
My phone is silent and I'm blissfully alone,
Detachment, detachment, detachment,
My favorite drug, how I've missed you.
So sickly happy,
So near to trauma,
(my familiar place)
But my perspective saving me from feeling it..
I could be in Virginia in 2008,
My legs a little hairy,
A breeze blowing through my long, long hair,
Innocence teasing me.
Or I could be here, now,
Listening for an owl that has stopped calling.
How delicious. Sweet detachment.
My favorite drug.
Mar 16, 2019
Mar 16, 2019 at 9:47 PM UTC
A Softer Way to Die
We live and study life
We pray that somehow
God changes his rules.
No one wants to die
No one wants to follow
Those complicated laws;
I mean no lie-ing - no steal-ing
no *** - before marriage no
Fornicate-ing, no kill-ing
No lust-greed or defil-ing the earth.
Amen.
All we can do now is try to find
" A softer way to die".
Pick your battles...
There are many ways to die.
I asked, God why?
When mom threw a
"Monkey wrench" in my world
Answering - "We all have to die"
I immediately winked at God...
Thinking to myself ( not I) .
Gave him a little nudge;
Sidebar God : I said to God
Adamantly "I do not want to die"
"Can you change the rules "?
I never heard back from him
On that subject..
I went to him again
God "Can you at least
Keep me with a mom-
I said "So that I won't be an
Orphan like Shirley Temple" ?
He did get back to me on that
And Mom is Alive and well
Plan A. ( living forever)
Still not executed.
Once again contemplating
Thoughts on how I want to die.
I could not think of a pleasant way
To die, none that seemed appealing.
Nor any options that would be fun.
hmmm, eat myself to death.
Playing chicken with the train,
Might prove thrilling.
As time grew nigh
My thoughts continued
....On a softer way to die.
Childhood gone, middle age gone'
Old age approaching fast and furious
Destroying me like a sudden
Approaching hurricane...
This storm knocked out my lights
Memory gone now..
Forgetting my life- my loved ones
Forgetting my friends,
Children,and foes alike
Forgetting my wrongs - my sins
and accomplishments all.
Everything's gone. So now
What do I do ?... How can
I rewrite my life,Take account..
Of that which I remember not.
The realities of my existence
Has been wiped out from
The Forest Fires burning
In my minds eye.
Have no recordings of
Who loved me or of who
I shall never forgive.
How will I know that I ever even lived.
Taking my dark blank pages into
The after life- My shadowy
Existence ends. I feel no pain
I Have no thoughts,
Have nothing to contemplate.
For I have asked to live forever
Or that I die a,softer way
Forgetting to eat
Forgetting to drink-
Forgetting to swallow
Forgetting to breath...
Forgetting this life-
I close my eyes and fade away.
painlessly
© Vicki Acquah
Oct 14, 2015
Oct 14, 2015 at 7:49 AM UTC
Some say we all live in a “Multiverse” –
A myriad of universes
All parallel to one another
Invisible to us
Apart from our own universe
Wondrous as it is.
So in some other universe there is
Another version of yourself,
Where you turned right at some junction
Instead of left
And had a serious accident
Instead of winning the lottery.
Or nothing much happened
Or Everything.
Even my own fertile imagination
Is floored
By the endless possibilities here.
My mind is truly boggled
Fit to explode.
For every tiny insect in our universe
Might fly right
Or left
Or not at all
To thus create another universe.
I could write an epic poem on this.
To think that somewhere out there
I may be Immortal, or a King, or Rock Star
Or even about to be Executed
If not already dead.
And you might be these things too.
Versions of ourselves might live in universes
That echo those of fiction
In worlds such as Narnia, Middle Earth
And that of Star Trek, Star Wars
And Stargate SG One
To name but a few.
Oh to have a TV Remote
Like the fictional “Sliders”
To take us from this realm
To any other of our choice.
Or a “Uniscape”:
A machine like a Tardis
Which can take us to any place
Or time
Or universe
Or Other Multiverse???
My head is aching now.
My mind explodes
Like The Universe
And The Multiverse
Or Multiverse of Multiverses.
So I’d better stop
Before this becomes an epic
And my head explodes.
But, meanwhile, in another universe
I didn’t stop!!!
Paul Butters
© PB 18\9\2023.
Sep 18, 2023
Sep 18, 2023 at 3:34 PM UTC
My quest began, before Inquisitive questionnaires, questioned my solicitude.
I traveled round the globe, In search of a Gold, to meet my goal.
In frnt of me, stood a beautiful angel, with a beautiful body.
,nothing wil hold me baq,
the way she walked was so dramatic, which made her attractive, by love I became assertive, but her vioce was fantastic, So I grew attentive, In other to be romantic, which made me sarcastic.
her smile waz beautiful, Which made me Boastful, but yet doubtful, I became Playful, I Never knew she was powerful
her luscious gigantic figure, was Perfectly executed to perfection, Suddenly I became frantic, Now I have to be more strategic.
i only grew anxious, which made her precarious. i turned perplexed, while she remained unagitated, her behavior waz sassy. i grew crazy,
the meaning of loneliness, was created frm her lovely eyes, i wish you could see the angel I see when you stand in front of me, i fell in love with someone, Who separated me frm everyone,
i adore how u make me smile, even from so many miles away, you energize me in standing up tall, Love me again like you did the first day You are pretty, you are sweet, but im still a bit naïve with my heart"
If d sea were to be a burning fire under d sun, and the blustery wind were to blow it, profusely like a stormy rain f volcano, upon d land, i will never leave.
i will always be there for you, i am your little friend, i will always be in love with you, all the way till the end, My eyes blinked twice, Fully opened in tears
Tonite my heart seems in pieces, My eyes drop tears that itches, Now I am here making wishes , Trying to picture u near me within inches.
It was only a dream!
Jul 16, 2013
Jul 16, 2013 at 8:12 PM UTC
You may search for kin in the blood that binds,
The haemoglobin of heritage entwined.
Or you may wade your way
Through the rich and meek
To find those of whom you speak,
Those so oft' hidden in plain sight.
Trust not all that you can see
For disguised treachery
Can lie in the softest of smiles.
Devious plans of mental mockery
Executed with cunning and guile.
Look instead then to the conquests!
Not to those we won outright,
But to the ones that fall to unions
Under starlight, under night.
Perhaps even then we will find
With our silent siege of time
That the Kinship sails on blind.
When the mindful heart
Meets the heartless mind.
May 11, 2012
May 11, 2012 at 5:24 AM UTC
Everything I write, everything I draw; delete
The things I create, I cannot complete
Is it being insecure or being lazy?
I don't know how to be a productive lady
I feel stupid
Since I can't anything executed
My work lives in the recycling bin
It's close in resemblance to a din
The backspace key is faded
My soul is abraded
I hate that I can't articulate
Does anyone else relate?
At least this poem is finished but it has no real end
I hope it shows what I intend
Oct 12, 2018
Oct 12, 2018 at 9:26 AM UTC
She is evil,
her manipulative ways have warped my mind,
she is evil,
she has caused me to commit an unforgivable regicide,
she is evil,
her heart is stone, and it calls me to be executed,
She is evil,
her lies have made me lost, my sanity to be disputed.
I am evil,
this story has twisted me into a monster,
i am evil,
my body taken over by a ruthless imposter,
I am evil,
corrupted by my blood thirsty hands,
I am evil,
in my wildest dreams - these werent my best laid plans.
He is evil,
my best friend, who fears i have played foully,
he is evil,
isn’t what i’m doing sick and cowardly?
he is evil,
the father who brought out my fatal flaw,
he is evil,
silence! he speaks no more!
Jan 7, 2014
Jan 7, 2014 at 8:15 AM UTC
There's a way in which I break for beauties like you. It's a performance piece, not of the egoistic sort, but rather a birthed love-child of servility and altruism. Here's my recipe, if you ever wanted to scrutinise my path to death.
First, i stare. And marvel in awe at the carved beauty of you and wonder how many cities you've inspired.
Second is initiation. A delicate dance to either be executed from a carnal desire or a romantic want. I choose one or another, seldom do I pick both; tho they end the same way.
Third is the burning period. I will saturate myself with unwarranted loyalty at this point. I morph to their warmth and this is where it gets sick.
Fourth: obsession. If you look into my eyes you will see a longing to drown and to go back to the ocean that is you. It's potent enough to drive me insane. Consuming.
Fifth, i surrender. I'd ask you to take off that fire. I want you to still exist but to go burn somewhere else. To be a forest-fire that inspires rather than to maim me insolently.
Sixth is penance dressed masochistically. I torture myself for reasons he wouldn't understand or is justified, but I somehow think it's salubrious.
Seventh concerns with the cycle of death. I die for you, over and over again. I choose to do this.
Eighth is where my pain becomes stagnant and transition into ghosts with names.
Ninth better itself to be the point of moving on and building graves on reverence for even having a taste of perfection.
Tenth, I repeat this whole process.
Aug 12, 2016
Aug 12, 2016 at 6:40 AM UTC