Poetry Blogs (2013, Execution)

Execution (Remove filter)

Popular last 30 days

Recent Comments

Frances Macaulay Forde on The Daily Sluice (3 hours ago)

Brian Maryon on Amazing but True (4 hours ago)

Jason Bayliss on Amazing but True (4 hours ago)

David R Mellor on The Daily Sluice (4 hours ago)

raypool on SAME OLD SONG (6 hours ago)

John Coopey on OUR GERT KNOWS BEST (7 hours ago)

John Marks on Tuesday 4th August 1914 (7 hours ago)

raypool on OUR GERT KNOWS BEST (9 hours ago)

raypool on The Town That Was Murdered (9 hours ago)

raypool on tanka for the nemophilia (9 hours ago)

The First Lady of Strangeways

A Victorian street in Ashton

The home of Mary Ann

A married mother of two

Who hatched a cunning plan

Factory worker by day

And barmaid by night

She purchased a packet of Harrisons

To see off an infestation of mice

 

Topped her daughter for tenner

‘Epilepsy’ took her fellas life

She fancied the bloke ‘cross the road, so

Next she killed his wife

Peelers got sus...

Read and leave comments (1)

Executionvictorian era

The Psychopath

The demons swim where no one sees,

But no one hear their ill-lighted screams,

Instructions so inlawful and oblique,

Heard by no one except from me.

I see the word guilt but what does it mean?

Seems like a fictional desire that I won't feel,

No conscience to stop me from doing wrong,

A knife in my hand as they sing their twisted song.

Is it too late to say sorry now that the...

Read and leave comments (0)

child murdercold bloodeddarkDeath rowExecutionfree versemurPsychologypsychopath

The Psychopath

The demons swim where no one sees,

But no one hear their ill-lighted screams,

Instructions so inlawful and oblique,

Heard by no one except from me.

I see the word guilt but what does it mean?

Seems like a fictional desire that I won't feel,

No conscience to stop me from doing wrong,

A knife in my hand as they sing their twisted song.

Is it too late to say sorry now that the...

Read and leave comments (0)

child murdercold bloodeddarkDeath rowExecutionfree versemurPsychologypsychopath

The Psychopath

The demons swim where no one sees,

But no one hear their ill-lighted screams,

Instructions so inlawful and oblique,

Heard by no one except from me.

I see the word guilt but what does it mean?

Seems like a fictional desire that I won't feel,

No conscience to stop me from doing wrong,

A knife in my hand as they sing their twisted song.

Is it too late to say sorry now that the...

Read and leave comments (0)

child murdercold bloodeddarkDeath rowExecutionfree versemurPsychologypsychopath

The Psychopath

The demons swim where no one sees,

But no one hear their ill-lighted screams,

Instructions so inlawful and oblique,

Heard by no one except from me.

I see the word guilt but what does it mean?

Seems like a fictional desire that I won't feel,

No conscience to stop me from doing wrong,

A knife in my hand as they sing their twisted song.

Is it too late to say sorry now that the...

Read and leave comments (0)

child murdercold bloodeddarkDeath rowExecutionfree versemurPsychologypsychopath

The Psychopath

The demons swim where no one sees,

But no one hear their ill-lighted screams,

Instructions so inlawful and oblique,

Heard by no one except from me.

I see the word guilt but what does it mean?

Seems like a fictional desire that I won't feel,

No conscience to stop me from doing wrong,

A knife in my hand as they sing their twisted song.

Is it too late to say sorry now that the...

Read and leave comments (0)

child murdercold bloodeddarkDeath rowExecutionfree versemurPsychologypsychopath

A poem for Ashraf Fayadh

entry picture


Saudi courts, your rule of fear is finished
- the sentence on this poet negates your faith.
Your hollow incantation "God Is Great"
is plainly false if God can be diminished
by lines of verse. Should murder be admonished
to Ashraf Fayadh, forevermore his fate
will hold as evidence that you're afraid 
of poetry. Frankly I'm astonished:

astonished that a land so steeped in culture,
in li...

Read and leave comments (6)

Ashraf Fayadhatheismexecutionfree speechpoetpoetryreligionSaudi Arabia

Come Me Hither I, to Die

Good people of this Christian land,
Here before you now I stand
And come me hither I, to die,
For by the law condemned am I,
And not a word in protest muttered,
Let not a ‘treachery’ be uttered,
These lands demand my soul depart,
By pain of death and muted heart.

For at thy King’s pleasure, ‘tis true,
I soon, to take my leave of you,
I pass not blame, nor beg for life,
Thi...

Read and leave comments (1)

deathExecutionkingpoemroyalty

Shot at Dawn

entry picture

`

 

 

At nineteen you were still a child
hopping off to an aggrandised war
filled with romantic and exuberant air

At nineteen you travelled over the channel
to Mons, by the Belgian border marching
there receiving the horrors of humiliated retreat

At nineteen you went missing
first in Dublin taking leave wi...

Read more …

DesertionExecutionforgivenessMonspardonWarWWI

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message