Nihl Jul 2013

Maybe I’ll never make a good father,
the world has shown me it’s ugly face.
I see things too logically,
too realistically.
The things I’ve done and seen,
my dark sense of humour,
twisted sources of entertainment
and sexuality.
My sedated emotions
and even my choice of forensics profession
all these things probably makes me
a pretty bad father,
bad husband,
bad boyfriend…
And probably
a bad person.

N.H.

Maggie Emmett Aug 2014

You breathed your last breath from the air
in this room;
that threadbare Persian carpet
holds flakes from your skin;
hairs from your head
corkscrew the dented cushions
scattered and idly waiting on the sofa;
bed linen scented with your sweat
the goose down doona that stole
your last warmth;
sleep spit and tears
human moisture that permeates
the acrylic layers of your pillow;
an eyebrow hair wedged in the tweezers;
a clipped nail that flew off
somewhere out of sight;
that new toothbrush used only once;
your flannel and towel still drying out;
the wet press footprint on the bathroom mat;
the talcum powdered slippers
abandoned under the brass bed.
Each moment of everyday
we shed ourselves
shed dead cells and renew -
a cycle of shedding
until the last
shedding of ourselves.


               © M.L. Emmett

Forensic Science programs seemed to be everywhere and I minutely explore my grief in an unusual way
James Wisp Aug 2011

A retroactive reconstruction of
whats forgotten forms what’s real.
We rob and steal
past transgressions,
but what happens
when the  mechanisms making memories
twist elegantly toward
the ego?

Jonny Apr 2016

So oblivious as you sleep,
I'm getting Wash a treat,
I saw those messages,
The ones you tried'a hide,
Ones you tried'a delete,
With forensics on my side,
It's clear you cheat and lie.
Very simple actually,
With a scan of the phone,
An analysis to read
And I'm better off alone.

Riya Oct 2015

Apparently,
Love is patient,
And it's kind,
But i don’t believe in any of it because I
know that your love will never truly
Be mine.

I’ve heard that
Love is blind,
Exhilarating,
But no one ever talks about the hot, white aching.
The pain that comes with these feelings.
No one talks about how one-sided love crushes your heart,
Your soul.

Alas,
All these feelings are Greek to me.

I would never know how it really feels,
to be swept off your feet,
And looked at like you’re the most beautiful thing
To ever be contrived.
And cherished like I’m their only lifeline.
And protected like a damsel in distress.
All I feel is pain,
Right here in my Chest.

Ursa Major: Aren't you going to create anymore?
Tesla: What's the point? They'll steal it from me, and then use it to destroy me, I won't survive...

Ursa Major: You've brought Light to the World! They'll surely remember you!!
Tesla: No they won't. And it will be someone else that takes the credit...

nivek Sep 2015

if you are looking for lipstick on a collar
a smoking gun
you have missed your true vocation

You left fingerprints on my heart.
Damn blood is everywhere

Crime of passion
Guilty of love
Sentenced to Life!
Up against the wall!
Someone get the handcuffs
K Balachandran Dec 2011

your nail marks,
forensic scientists
would remark
as fatal attacks!

Emily Tyler Apr 2013

She loved art
And she breathed
And ate
And slept art
And she radiated art
And art was her life

And we
All loved her
One hundred percent
And every
Girl
Was her
Best friend

And the priest
Doing the funeral
Hadn't met her.
But her parents
Paid him like he had.

And they told the priest
"She loved art
And she breathed
And ate
And slept art.
And she radiated art.
And art was her life."

And so that was what he
Told the
Congregation.


But when
A quiet person like her
Dies
No one ever finds out
That she
Hated art
But
In fact
She loved Forensic Science.

Go look at all of my other poems please!!! I'm trying to get to 10,000 views!!! :)
softcomponent Nov 2013

the slam poets demise before
a foot-state forensic statue of in-
vest-in-grey-tongues cutes me in
to 5 different  animal high-rises

(like he meant it)

Raymond Crump Jun 2011

Who are who look
Through gazed window
Attention glazed whom
        None knew who steal
        Care sought answer
Who mute at window move

Slight shadow
Droplet tears
Lost city ghost

Who forensic wonder
Who cutaway found
Uncertain broken ground
Cloud circling shark

Shards of thought
Diamond scratch the glass
Weekend wilted grass view
Litter blown listless below

The weighted cloth
The china clog
The fireplace tiles
Cold as dead stars.



dec 2009

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