Love Poems About Murder or Murder Love Poems

Murder love poems and/or love poems about Murder. Read, share, and enjoy these Murder love poems! Also, try our sister website's powerful search engine for poems.

Poem Details | by arthur vaso |
Categories: art, death, funeral, jealousy, love, murder, philosophy,

Why oh Why Seren Roberts and Tim Smith

Why oh Why

A Collaboration between Seren Roberts, Tim Smith and Arthur Vaso

Poem inspired by Seren Roberts

Each poem written from a different view
The Murderer
The Murdered
The Mannequins who witnesses the crime


Why of Why
Lovers Die
Mannequins Cry


Sat, with his head in his hands
Remembering how love had once been,
Now, because of his stupidity 
He was on his own, solitary again

Remembering, how love had been,
Behind the bars he now calls home
He was on his own as before and again,
Realizing, he was such a petty bitter fool

Behind the bars he now calls home
His mind, aflame with tears of regret
Realizing he was an utter fool,
To have stabbed her to death in a bloody pool

 His mind aflame, with deep regret
 Why..did he buy a knife that day...why?
 To have stabbed her to death
 Cause she had given love another try.

Oh how he wishes, its he that had died


Lovers Die

I linger with the scent of flowers
cascading over what was once spring showers

Your red hands drip   passion
long since cooled
darkness surrounding you has lifted
and only I can see the light

Why couldn't you leave
a girl clamoring to be free
dressed in a burnt orange skirt
driven to the stake with your hurt

Words were written on the wall
but all you did was erase it all
Twisted   as the knife turns
in a cell    your hell burns


Mannequins Cry

We have no faces
We have no voices
You think we have no feelings
You see us as objects in commercial spaces

We saw the hidden knife unfold
We saw the young ones stabbed so bold
Pain is the emotion that frightens us all
Mannequins crying, tears running as we see her crawl
 
When the blood flowed
When the redness of hate showed
We with no faces
Shed tears at the human disgraces

Such young love so brutally robbed
By the jealous and lonely one, made us all sob
He regrets I am sure the hate that overflowed
Life's so torn it can't be sown


Poem Details | by arthur vaso |
Categories: crazy, devotion, murder, passion, woman, women,

Love

Love went to the liquor store
She bought a bottle
Drank until the bottle was dry
Walked on over to the hardware store
Where there she bought a hunting knife


Love sliced open my chest
Her hands grasped my heart
She had a hearty meal
Dropping her knife
She walked away in the dark

Love stole my heart


Poem Details | by arthur vaso |
Categories: angel, beauty, imagination, love, murder, poems, romance,

Kill Me

Kill me


Evil creeps here and there
All around, and in the dank misty air

I can taste the blood on my lips
I shiver, at the thrill of my death

Nothing matters
As I sense the essence of this nefarious attack

I lack the vision to see the terror
Of the not knowing, not quite sure

When the arrow long and straight
Shall come to pierce my heart impure

As it most surely will
In the autumn rain

I remember, I consume, I devour
That day full of umbrellas

I saw you dressed in black and red
My heart, suddenly filled with delightful dread

For I knew, I knew who you were
The stranger with the pretty umbrella

We smiled, even if you knew yet not why
You would become the one to kill me so

With kindness
With flowers
With candles
With soft music
With your sweet caress
With the sway of your hips
With your smile
With your love of humanity
With your laughter towards children
With the dance in your step
With your lips that bound my love to the angels

You killed me with your pure desires and charm
You killed me with such delectable wiles
For surely to be beside one
As beautiful as you
I must have died
And drifted up to the heavens above


Poem Details | by Shanity Rain |
Categories: absence, angel, betrayal, business, car, career, celebrity, change, childhood, dance, death, death of a friend, dedication, devotion, england, farewell, fear, first love, for him, freedom, friendship, funeral, goodbye, grief, heartbroken, history, identity, international, london, miss you, money, murder, muse, music, mystery, new york, peace, political, power, remember, rights, spiritual, tribute, truth, visionary, wisdom,

he is leaving home

                            
                  In great respect of the band I grew up listening to
                       as sure as Mom passed down Saturday Chores 
                      for I had been chosen to scrub bathroom floors `

                    Yet a familiar sound would bring me to keep scrubbing
                       The red album, The blue album , The White album 
                        ThenAbbey Road , always remembering the sad look on
                  Ringo's face ,  something hard to understand underneath~
                       
                      I get it now, what you were saying all those years ago ,
                    the many sad lonely tears , secret tears , secret fears 
                    For Maxwell's Hammer was a real one It wanted silence

                    Going back.remembering when John Lennon died 
                      I was in Arkansas saddened with the world
                      Then seeing his face saying " Drag isn't it " 
                      Nothis was not my hero in music and song

                      he was a stand in hired William , he filled his shoes 
                      bringing diversity to create so much beautiful music from loss

                       One left standing , alone;; grief struck on back cover ~
                       The other identity hidden, tried to be part of.coming together
                                                                                                                                                                        
                            his  world of secrets
                        He to suffers today , in fear , Faul~
                       
                        Too many years gone bylet us tell the TruthLet us be free
                         The very sad long and winding Road ~
                         Let us Bury our real Paul

                         No more " Mystery tour "
                             No more fear 
                                Let him be in peace ~


           Inspired by " The Last Testament of George Harrison , Is Paul Dead ? "

                






Poem Details | by Blake Holland |
Categories: addiction, adventure, allusion, anger, art, child, childhood, children, community, corruption, crazy, dark, death, deep, depression, desire, evil, fantasy, fear, freedom, future, gothic, grave, grief, imagination, lust, murder, pain, pollution, poverty, power, sad love, science, society, spiritual, spoken word, visionary,

The Future Starts Here

The innocence is transfusing
and overturning 
the goat skin drums
children of the mills,
children of the junkyard,
alone, 
and savaging
and we keep filling them with
mercury, nitrate, espestice, baby bombs
blasted out of their shaved heads
scared,
and foraging


Poem Details | by Lewis Michael |
Categories: dark, death, emotions, hate, loss, murder, sad love,

Mutant

Mutant,
Hosted lament,
Growth yielded dying fiend,
Rancor malice abort bastard,
Hallowed.


Poem Details | by Andrew Park |
Categories: crazy, lonely, murder, pride, sad love, truth, violence,

Blinding Power Of Love

He gathers all flowers he sees to show off his romance. He chops all trees he faces to show off his masculinity He gayly spits out a lump of saliva to show off his coolness He leaves traces of money wherever he goes to show off his richness. He sings everyday, every moment to show off his persistency and passion. But she doesn't stare into his eyes with admiration nor satisfaction nor true desire. Her eyes are a pair of story tellers, without a tint of a lier. They only speak the truth, insulting the man with a harsh glare This time, his simple-mindedness carries him away. His lack of mind demonizes his very heart and bones of his soul, Snapping at once like a monster, existing as a deleterious being He goes mad, killing hundreds, thousands, millions, thirsty for a genuine love, only waiting for to see a swarm of oozing blood waves gushing in and out of his lungs He cannot cope with this madness, His responsibility he has once established. At last, he cuts his breath with an undeniable slash with his double edged sword, chanting a regretful cry out of his body until the silence takes over his surrounding


Poem Details | by arthur vaso |
Categories: beauty, dark, death, love, murder,

Gourmet Romance

I ate
The bones of dogs
I ate the past before it ate me
I ate my heart
So I am with out love
I seek my next meal
Blood pie and veal
I ate the lips of a lover
I sealed the kiss with the wish of another
I am still starving, deep within
Where is this kiss
Too feed me again?

I ate the dreams of my childhood
I turned time upside-down
Yet it’s me who is lost
I am rotten from the stomach
For eating the impure

I ravish the thoughts of your loins
OH yes I eat like a king
The sweet smell of sauce makes me begin
This voyage into a lover’s sin

I am the creation of my own demise
I ate my own legs, so now I no longer run
A lover with no legs, she considers no fun
So she ate me whole, rather than catch

A romantic meal

   Candles in flame
	
          Death my only fame


Poem Details | by Olive Eloisa Guillermo - Fraser |
Categories: death, murder, sad, sad love, sorrow, woman,

HIS BLUE PALETTE - ANACREONTIC VERSE


HIS BLUE PALETTE ~anacreonti verse~ Lonely moon shed yellow light in month of June falling, falling are the tears carrying sad tunes. Palette of blue is the pigment spilled to his ink eversince the day red, colored their den at the lush grass is his wife, sprawled gasping, gasping for some breaths a deep hole seen under her chin. Her lips bit open as if to shout, eyes mirroring fear was it too late? They got her first.. There are questions bugging, lurking into his mind... Answers he longs. justice he craves two years gone but 'til now It is unknown, no one knows.. _______________________________ 9:33 pm, January 07, 2015


Poem Details | by Ezra cook |
Categories: beautiful, death, horror, lost love, marriage, murder, mystery,

Lady In Red

The Lady in red
awaits my arrival
 The Lady in red
lays and waits
The Lady in red 
never-more so beautiful
The Lady in red
Who is my newly wed
The Lady whose white dress covered in Red
is no more


Poem Details | by Robert Cort |
Categories: lost, love,

Murder she wrote

    Let us fade away and acknowledge that the past never really mattered any wayThat the countless conversations lead to our bodies conversing deep in each others thoughts admirationAnd the abandonment of our most memorable hallucinations the picket white fence lead to the next frustration the perfect relationship said with so much hesitation… you see we weren’t so perfect after allInstead we portrayed the two face images, timid love sensitive fragile as if the single touch can break through emotions I don’t have any You see the messed up relationship is the cause of my life’s lost privileges 
    She held the gun to my face for about three yearsReminding me that she had total control she cocked it back and reloaded it with all of the sadness emotions and the baby I’m so devoted bull shit and then she pulled the triggerNow when she pulled the trigger she held the bullet oh so tightly guiding it straight through my flesh, piercing right through my heart and I could still hear the last three heart beats pounding out of my chest 1.1 less of a heart beat and my eyes are closed shut forever 2.2 of my mothers hard working hands pasted together praying that my soul would find heaven 3years that I will never get backYou will never give them back just like when you took my life away you didn’t hold back you should’ve pulled that trigger three years ago.But this Is my mentality aint itThat pop lock reload, shoot me three times, reload rewind shoot my memory away reload let me forget what went through pain reload.Shoot me in the heart reload, remind me that there was never a start reload….Rewind fast forward its funny… its funny that the ones who don’t want to be enemies are the ones becoming more and more dead to me and the memories of our memories dead to me …Didn’t reveal any secrets dead to me…killed me with the sweet emotions of your poisonous dreams … what have you made me … a heartless emotionless questions every ones devotion and I don’t trust so easy…Trauma… as these thoughts flow through my brain filling it up I try and release it and pretend that the words on this page doesn’t mean pain but the eruption of the enlarged images is the cause of my life’s lost privileges I will never look at any body and trust the same… lets rewind she pulled the trigger, didn’t hold back dead in pain…
                                                                        -AMERESOUL-


Poem Details | by Catman Cohen |
Categories: angst, love, passion, me, night, fear, me, murder, night,

Hostage in the Bedroom

There’s a gun upon my bed
Not the kind made of metal
A vivid tattoo color
Above my lover’s
Secret devil

And that gun is like a demon
Aimed toward her pleasure zone
Urging hunters to take a shot
And take the trophy 
Home

I see blood upon the doorstep
I smell murder in her fold
I  fear ghosts will haunt her body
In the bullets I have sown

I hear hungry infants crying
The ones she gave away
And the bastards she is hiding
Are my regrets from yesterday

I feel the gun blazing
As she sucks my breath away
I’m a hostage to her body
In the mayhem
She  purveys

In the middle of the night 
I’ll make my escape
Run, run, run 
Run away

I’ve got to run

In the middle of the night
When her back is turned
Run, run, run
Run away

I’ve got to run

There’s a gun upon my bed
It belongs to my baby
Burned deep inside her
On a night she went 
Crazy

And every time I think
I’ll flee 
Her dangerous painted gun
She draws it against me
And I feel myself succumb

I see blood upon the doorstep
I smell murder in her fold
I  fear  ghosts will haunt her body
In the bullets I have sown

I hear hungry infants crying
The ones she gave away
And the bastards she is hiding
Are my regrets from yesterday

Save me from her gun
She’ll never let me go
Save me from drowning
In her young and wanton soul

I’ve got to run
But there’s a gun

My baby won’t let me go.






Poem Details | by RUDOLPH RINALDI |
Categories: life, love, murder, war,

kill not sweet child

kill not

sweet child

that blood

will sour

the soul




Poem Details | by Denise Morgan |
Categories: murder, valentines day,

Macabre Love

On Valentine's Day,
Cupid's arrow drips with blood.
What a macabre love


Poem Details | by Chris Boskovski |
Categories: beautiful, beauty, courage, cry, dark, depression, desire, devotion, evil, farewell, fear, fire, first love, for her, funeral, girl, girlfriend, goodbye, grief, heart, heartbroken, how i feel, i love you, leaving, life, loneliness, lonely, longing, loss, lost, lost love, love, morning, murder, passion, poetry, poets, poverty, rain, red, relationship, romance, romantic, sad, sad love, strength, stress, wisdom, woman, write,

Like the frightened Jackrabbit, I run away from Love

Jump up and down like a jackrabbit
running through meadows
running from what?
Could it be heartbreak,
a venemous snake that hides in the grass,
hiding with fangs ready to pierce the tender skin
upon the tight, bronze flesh of everyday life?
Goodbye, Goodbye, Goodbye now!
I need a vacation a long way away from the faceless smiles
and ignorance of young girls, who don't look at you,
who don't show you love and respect.
Goodbye, Goodbye, Goodbye now,
as jumping spiders hop everywhere, crawling eight legs around me
my soul black like carcoal, but my heart still beating
slower this time, not like the days before
and like the jackrabbit running from anything and everything,
I run to seek love and vanish away from the empty voids
that people call, their souls.
Recording a film with no tape,
talking to a woman you love, but not having the guts to tell her how you really feel
Jump my boy, like a jackrabbit, take my advice
tell her before she leaves
turns down the endless avenues of endless dark love
the trees grow taller, taller than you
and you sit there feeling away yourself die, missing out in life.
I cannot see you lose your love.
Say it, say it, Say it!!! Tell her! Tell her! Build the guts up!
Build up the courage, tell her how you feelTake her by the hand and never say goodbye! Never say goodnight, stay with her till the flight comes in the morning
of the first rays of sun shine through your dorm room take her and love her!
Do not be like me, the jackrabbit! I see no happiness
Reading poetry it makes me sad,
to write of others falling in love and I never finding the one.
People tell me, you'll find yours, have hope
but I am a frightened little jackrabbit
who flees from sounds of deep emotions, not having courage to fall in love,
not building the guts up to tell her how I really feel.
She walks alone, I find my oppertunity and sing my love song
She smiles and moves on,
please tell me I cannot fight anymore.
All I have to say is Goodbye, Goodbye, Goodbye
I need a vacation
to go to some sandy beach on an island of love
and write and write and write, the same poetry that depresses me
but makes you all fall in love with words!
Fiction about love stories, please kiss me
Blue eyed death comes, plays a game of chess with me
I bet twenty, he bets my soul
Kiss me death, the only love I'll ever get,
besides my poet friends who kiss my ass
Listen to my heart, truely, I don't write of beauty
I write for the sorrow soul, the fleeing jackrabbit
running away from love.....


Poem Details | by john beharry |
Categories: death, love, men, murder, romance, suicide, women,

The Power Of Love



Romeo and Juliet Their love prompted their society to fret And led to their suicidal death In one of the greatest love stories yet Lancelot and Guinevere They had an adulterous love affair Which demonstrated very clear Her unfaithfulness to her husband dear Paris of Troy and Helen In his love for her he was so smitten This led to his country's ruin And also cost the lives of many men Anthony and Cleopatra He followed in the footsteps of Caesar Who was also her son's father And he made this foreign queen his lover Samson and Delilah He was well known as a strong warrior Until she became his barber After which he lost his strength and power David and Bathsheba Through loving her, he became a sinner And turned into a murderer Despite his image as a great ruler Shah Jahal and Mumtaz Mahal Among his wives he loved her best of all Their love he made monumental And embodied it in the Taj Mahal


Poem Details | by Shanity Rain |
Categories: anger, death, grief, murder, sad love,

Jodi revised

Please read about the poem ~


How can I express my sadness as I turn on CNN
For the man who was suffering as he left so beautiful inside 

 taken so handsome and young ,  by the Sin of Pride

His Family now weeps for a very long time , 
he has become all our true loves in mind.

For he a Charismatic man , intelligent, 
well spoken , a man so hard to find

What has our World come to 
What drives one to insanity, 
 to take another so Horrifically~

The Truth does not Lie Jodi ,
 for you holds no Glory

The Truth in rejection so sad to face,
    willing to give away everything at all cost..

No matter how much she Loved him , 
  In capable of love through possession , 
 
There is a lesson through the worst pain
 Through incapable love lies ,  betrayal 

You have taken another that was not yours to take , 
  You have caused great sorrow and pain
      Your love of self in Vain ~

Giving her freedom through the spirit "Death " 
        will not make the sad better
           In justice , is a mirror and cell for eternity

In my heart everyone deserves Redemption ,
 leaving this writing  only the title of her name  
   many would like you to suffer this life and the next

In respect of the Man who has left , I believe he would forgive her
   refusing to punish by Death


Poem Details | by Alexis Olmstead |
Categories: dark, love, murder,

One Way Out

She is standing there, in the small kitchen
While far away her husband is fishing.
Despairing tears fall down her gentle face
How could she have brought upon this disgrace?
She had a family, a perfect life
Now she'll be labeled as a cheating wife.
On her heart is etched the story of sin
With lies and deceit, one can never win
"This secret my husband can never know
I'll tell him its his when I start to show."
Inside she knows he will never believe
The only option is for her to leave.
She cannot walk out of her own home,
The last thing she wants is to be alone.
Suddenly her husband walks in the door.
Scared, she pulls a steak knife out of the drawer.
She goes in for the hug, knife in hand
Her reasoning fully at fears command.
The steak knife falls swiftly to the hard ground
Her ex-husband follows, not making a sound.
"I'm feeling like some take-out for dinner,
I'll be home soon," says the crazed sinner.
She closes the door and turns off the lights,
His body left to the roaches and mice.


Poem Details | by Robyn Thomas |
Categories: allegory, animal, beautiful, howl, image, metaphor, moon, murder, mystery, sad love, sky, sorrow, stars, symbolism,

The kings of the night

The seemingly tranquil sky
blooming with stars soon
pierced by a distant cry
that seems to swoon.

Beneath dense trees standing tall
to touch dark canvas painted
after dusk, prowls the epiphany of all
mother nature’s tainted.

The wise are often alone
and the dangerous hated, 
but they express in moan
their solitude, once more grated.

Gradually their voices unite
in a song across the valley, 
seeming to smite
all of innocence’s nest.

The moon in her splendour moves
to comfort the carnivores that commence, 
and yet her beam soothes
not the beasts’ sense.

Torn between wrong and right
the moon spreads her swanlike wings amidst
the howls of her lovers, the kings of the night…
among the wolves in the mist


Poem Details | by Kennedy Lea |
Categories: absence, baby, beauty, brother, child, cry, dedication, depression, girl, growing up, growth, hate, heartbroken, heaven, i love you, identity, innocence, little sister, loneliness, memory, miss you, missing you, morning, murder, poetry, psychological, recovery from, sad, sad love, sister, together, truth, war,

Das Ein Mannlein


Das Ein Männlein

The silent echo reflects through the lodge,
Ein Männlein Steht im Wlade ganz Still und Stum…
Repeating itself in the young boys head.
He is not yet a man, but stands proud enough to be,
Coming back here to relieve himself of his past.
Crying out as he reaches the splintering and tilted door.
The memories of the cold, the blistering cold overpower him.
He spends time collecting himself as the moon moves across the sky.

He had been here with his family-
Says the toppled dining room table.
He also wasn’t the only child in the lodge-
Says the curled up paper dolls in the fireplace.
There was music- Ein Männlein Steht im Wlade ganz Still und Stumm…
Echoes the toppled ivory-keyed piano in the corner.
There was a war, as the Russian Graffiti on the wall complains.
The crashed bomber-plane with the seat full of bones assures that fact.

He came back to the rotting lodge in the forest
Back to the overgrown pile of shambles to find something
As he digs he picks objects out of the rubble, a boar’s head, jewelry, dog-tags,
And finally the thing he seemed to have been searching for.
A baby’s bathtub, with a scrolled handle, stares at him through the dust.
What happened to the other child?
She still has all of her baby teeth in her sweet little baby head.
She’s been sitting in that bathtub ever since that horrible night.
When she was boiled to death by hungry war criminals


Poem Details | by Joey Peters |
Categories: addiction, anger, jealousy, loneliness, love, lust, murder,

Beautiful Shadows

Her body lies warm and still,
As still as the coldness of the night,
She is silent in her slumber,
It gives time to admire her,
Her immaculate beauty;
The way her smile consumes my soul,
It could lighten me up on the darkest of nights,
Yet, her eyes are so cold;
Cold enough to shock this man to his core;
Completely immobilized,
Her hair flows with such majesty;
A stampede of millions of stallions trampling in front of me,
Shaking the ground with such might.

Yet, I love her so,
That is obvious to see,
But, am I crazy?
The people say I love her too much,
How do you love someone too much?
I stay next to her, keeping her up at night;
Talking frantically to her as if she wouldn't be there the next day;
Buying gifts and writing poems;
To show I still care.

But, all of this,
How much I care
Is all in vain,
For she loves another,
She would not admit it,
But, I know it's true,
I see it in the coldness and insincerity of her eyes;
I hear it in the words she says as she slumbers in the night.

What I must do is all too clear,
For this night will be the last one for her,
The last night for her;
To breath,
To smile,
To smell,
To hear,
Tonight must be the night I end it for my dear.

I place a rose softly atop her body,
I crawl up on her bed;
Looking down upon her body,
I slowly move my hands against her throat,
I begin strangling her in a violent rage,
As she struggles,
I mutter "Goodbye, my dear"
Her struggling died down,
As her corpse hit the bed,
There her lifeless body lie with the rose still a top it.

My body is weak,
As I fall to my knees,
My hands trembling in front of me,
The thought has finally become clear,
Both of my lives are now over,
Here I will sit waiting for the morn,
Waiting for them to take me away.




 


Poem Details | by Kuleza John Lembi |
Categories: abuse, africa, death, lost love, murder, sorrow,

SECOND LETTER FROM ALBINOS

Dear murderers,
With tears eroding the pimples of our cheeks
We write again to you heartbroken

In a joyful union we used to live together
With your sweet stories we felt secure
But why now? Why mother Africa

Your minds now corrupted
Hungry for money but no care for life
Our lives have no value to you?
That you switch it off to feed you pockets?

Is it a curse to be deprived of melanin?
What do you harvest from our weak bones?
Does our blood flow inside diamonds?

Darkness has befallen our families
No longer a sweet homeland to us
But a jungle full of hungry lions
But why now? Why mother Africa 

How big is our crime that you can’t forgive?
How unforgivable, that you sentence us to death?
Where have you burred your merciful hearts?

Our necks are so heavy with the yoke
This burden is not a joke
With chains you have tied our happiness
Our freedom thrown to grave 

To you we look upon
With your love we were born
Our bodies have no gold, but hollow bones
Save us God from these money hungry ritualists 

Yours,
Innocent Albinos


Poem Details | by jeremy branston |
Categories: betrayal, break up, dark, depression, dream, emo, fear, future, girl, growth, how i feel, i miss you, inspirational, international, murder,

love to a liar

Fill my heart with all it can imagineIs as easy as granting a wishHonor, love, and inspirationIs , as easy as finding belifeCuz, i never could of imagined a heart, turn so cold Camaflaged, with ways of decietProveing heartache and caiousTo conquere all joyMy heart can only imagine the oposite of saneInsane my theroy , cuz not sane to actually belive a heart full of day dreams of magesty and castles with you the pilot lightWhere confidence n trust you catrepowrr my mightMy heart can image , but imahine a heatt this true Still be shadowed on all those who wish illI still find my love imagination full as heavens sunBut never imagined for all this painYour unfaithfulness, deciet, n cruel, infectionBroke my will to fightWas the day reality came to lightDestroy n all my hopes desires goals and belivesWell my heart couls never imagine the way you decieveBut the day you take my lmage as a heart full of pure love and intentAppreciatedNot crushed by your unkindnessIs the day for a heart to make me imagine a heart worth belive n and dreaming n possibleThe sameIs the day love turns the liars to repay you, with sameIs the day my heart stops ache n for its endless amounts of pain.


Poem Details | by Lauressa Glover |
Categories: death, grief, heartbroken, love, murder, sad love,

That Night

He still remembers the screams of his beloved
He still remembers her lilac perfume
He still remembers her bright smile
How she held him close as he lay there dying

Her beautiful red dress framing her petite figure
Her chesnut brown hair, always smelling like strawberries
Her black heeled shoes making her as tall as him
Her hazel eyes that shined when she saw him

Now there's a crowd around them
Paramedics telling everyone to make room
They tell her to let him go so they can check on him
She's vaguely aware of what's going on


She only hears sound
Everything is blurred to her
She sees her beloved's mouth move
She gets her bearing and ask "What did you say?"


Everyone becomes quiet
Suddenly there's no movement, no sound
He says with his last dying breath,
"Will you marry me?"


Before she answers him,
His body goes limp
He has died in her arms
With one word, everyone's life changed


They barely hear that one word
She whispers, "Yes"
His ghost floats above her
Whispering in her ear, "Forever I shall protect you my beloved"


Poem Details | by Chris Boskovski |
Categories: bullying, cancer, change, courage, crazy, cry, dark, death, death of a friend, emotions, evil, farewell, feelings, fire, funeral, girl, goodbye, how i feel, leaving, loneliness, lonely, loss, lost, lost love, love, men, miss you, missing, missing you, murder, poetry, uplifting, wisdom, women,

But with the evil, came the good

All turned down to the worst
as the children lost innocence,
as the bums drank their last breath away,
as the man eating sharks finding their way,
to the over-crowded sandy beaches,
as the man turn to the woman
and gave her a slap across the face,
as the thef steals in the night,
as the coward goes behind his loved ones' backs,
as the oil lanterns spill over and burn the bridges
to salvation and paradise.
Something always happens to the good guy,
a knife in the back in the midst of dawn,
his woman leaving with another man,
he dying slowly of cancer,
or suffering from intoxication of the blood.
PoisonPoison, ravages his body,
oh, how could God let such things happen
to such a good man?
His life work, his social life, his nirvana
all destroied, burned away, turned to dust.

But with the evil, came the good.
Yes with time and time again
repeating itself in a circle of time,
across the crossed faces,
as blue eyed Death smiles
and as the girls grin,
Everything came into place,
Anyway with evil, came the good.
Indeed it had came right to his front doorstep.


Poem Details | by Reshma-Kate-Meserah-Blanca FARR |
Categories: abuse, anger, angst, betrayal, break up, conflict, death, desire, grief, hate, heartbreak, hurt, husband, jealousy, love, lust, marriage, murder, pain,

The Affair

A warm embrace
And a lingering touch.
Skin meets skin.
The rustling of sheets,
Fingers tangled in hair.
His lips against mine,
My lover and I.

The slam of a door 
And my heart sinks.
Red of passion turns to red of rage.
Angry screams.
Drunk words.
A taste of copper on my tongue,
White sheets stained crimson

I look,
My own glassy eyes stare back.
You move on, you forget.
I watch, I wait.
I can never leave,
Never touch,
Never breathe.
Silent screams echo,
Cherished memories tinged with red.
I watch, I wait.

Know that the cross you clutch so often
Will do you no good.
I'm watching, I'm waiting.


Poem Details | by Anna Hopper |
Categories: addiction, betrayal, murder,

Sick love

   Without him I struggled, just to breathe
The scent of his skin, my addiction
I couldn't bear the pain if he had to leave
I couldn't resist the friction

   There were days, I considered taking my life
Just to ease the pain
Atop my nightstand, I kept a knife
My nightgown wore a stain

   He had no idea of the turmoil I was in
He said "we're just having fun"
He took my heart out for a spin
What would happen when he was done

   We would laugh and mock her together
How stupid could I be
He had my heart in a tether
And next, he would do this to me

   I must admit, I had him fooled
He believed me to be a player
My personality, I had tooled
I never wanted to betray her

   When I sliced my skin to release the pain
I did it for her AND I 
His love had me sick and insane
My soul, brittle and dry

   Perhaps it was him that deserved to bleed
Why should I suffer alone
All of this pain was derived from his greed
I GROUND HIM UP, TOOTH AND BONE

   My new best friend has become my lover
She assisted in the crime
If questioned of me, I know she'll cover
She too has been doused in his slime


Poem Details | by Jemmy Farmer |
Categories: love, sad,

Enchanted Murder

A beauty danced beneath pale moonlight,
While hypnotic song flurried on the breeze,
Distant, the voices tell of magic’s flight,
A heart is caught with such apparent ease,
And leads the self into its deathly plight.

A soul lies dying within grasping flame,
Confusion’s white heat burning at nerve tips,
Invisible fires bring the pain just the same,
The murderous hold a vice like grip,
And jealousy is her invidious name.






Form: Sicilian Quintains


Poem Details | by Ag Ki |
Categories: absence, abuse, age, allegory, anger, angst, art, beauty, boyfriend, dream, forgiveness, god, lost love, love, memory, missing, moving on, murder, pain, passion, peace, philosophy, poems, self, sensual, sin, stress, student, teen, visionary, words,

Candy Made Of Cotton

You were born and raised as a dream,
That someone else liked to keep.
Run me like a river,
Currents can’t keep us from sleep.
You were raised like a flag
So sorry so forgotten,
You were left at half mast.
A tomato in the sun not dried but rotten

Candy made of cotton.
Dreams are meant to be forgotten.
And I’ll forget with help from smoke and ashes.
Alone here we lie between the sounds.
Don’t we all think our lives could be profound?
But my genius only comes in flashes.

Turn me like a table.
The only stories I ever heard were fables.
So now all I tell are tall tales
Something about cats in cradles
I wanted so much from life but I was afraid to reach.
Now hand in my pockets tangled up in sleeves.
My dreams have stayed just dreams.

Candy made of cotton.
Dreams are meant to be forgotten.
And I’ll forget with help from smoke and ashes.
Alone here we lie between the sounds.
Don’t we all think our lives could be profound?
But my genius only comes in flashes.


Poem Details | by Charles Baker |
Categories: death, depression, fear, friendship, growing up, inspirational, life, love, passion, political, recovery from..., urban, day,

Government Sanctioned Murder

Let's be realBlues are the new crack and no one denies it, 
they reach basers with no sign of government confinement
This color kills slowly with one after the other, the big wigs count on that population to smother
Oh wait this heroin has a script? Supplied by whoever made it synthetically legit? 
Yes they do my young drug user you see, and if I were selling I'd give you half for free, forcing the Need to come back to me.its ****in crazy how they make a tribute,
identifying the evil but never slowing the distribute.or consumption for that matter, 
theirs no hope for modern day snap-back mad hatters.All I can do is say that I'm here,
for anyone lost in their own right to fear
For my fears are numbered today as it seems, only two reside in sporadic day dreams
One that the user wont ever find clean, and won't ever sleep towards true divine dreamsThe other that server will not end the cycle, and won't see their job any less than quite rightfulBoth will dream, theres no denying that friend, just depends if its sooner or after the end..