Poetry competition CLOSED 25th August 2011 9:51pm
WINNER
beautiful_accident
beautiful_accident
Pull The Trigger Poems
Anonymous
Once Every Day
At least once,
every day,
I put the cool black steel
against my temple
and trigger the hammer to fall.
This morning,
it was when
I was driving near the hospital,
as it goes,
on the curve of the motorway.
Pressing the muzzle
into my face,
I estimate the direction
of the blast.
Will it launch me out of the vehicle?
Does it even hold that power?
Yesterday,
before sleep,
in an old bed,
I pressed the cylinder
into my forehead.
Grasping the handle,
cocking the hammer again,
I fire,
and the room is met with silence.
The bullet races
into a pillow,
after tearing through my aching brain.
Tomorrow,
I do not know.
At least once,
every day,
I put the cool black steel
against my temple
and trigger the hammer to fall.
This morning,
it was when
I was driving near the hospital,
as it goes,
on the curve of the motorway.
Pressing the muzzle
into my face,
I estimate the direction
of the blast.
Will it launch me out of the vehicle?
Does it even hold that power?
Yesterday,
before sleep,
in an old bed,
I pressed the cylinder
into my forehead.
Grasping the handle,
cocking the hammer again,
I fire,
and the room is met with silence.
The bullet races
into a pillow,
after tearing through my aching brain.
Tomorrow,
I do not know.
Pull The Trigger
They say it's an act of cowardice,
That it's the easy way out,
The Reaper's lips you kiss.
And here I am, kissing my rifle's lips,
And like a coward did I feel, a pool of fear it sips,
Not because I attempted suicide,
But because I couldn't blow my head wide.
Seconds, days, months may figure,
But I will never be able to compress, pull that trigger,
I felt like a coward, yet I'm still here,
Kept alive by extreme fear,
Contradicting everything we hear.
I begin to cry, shake,
The lives of my enemies I easily end, yet my own I cannot take.
It takes distinct bravery and desperation,
To kill yourself through your weapon's last ovation,
To swallow the contents of that pill bottle, say,
That this is what you want, it's your only way.
Suicide...courageous is it not,
For forever in Hell does no one desire to rot.
Coughing up the cold steel tongue,
Tears, a broth of sweat among.
Rifle cradled in tremulous hands,
Body, soul forever in humbleness stands.
A clank as the magazine impacts the ground,
Rifle next, a cold, bleak deathly sound,
The courage in me to pull that trigger will never be found.
An escape, all I desire,
Still, will I never be able to fire,
I just cannot pull that trigger.
They say it's an act of cowardice,
That it's the easy way out,
The Reaper's lips you kiss.
And here I am, kissing my rifle's lips,
And like a coward did I feel, a pool of fear it sips,
Not because I attempted suicide,
But because I couldn't blow my head wide.
Seconds, days, months may figure,
But I will never be able to compress, pull that trigger,
I felt like a coward, yet I'm still here,
Kept alive by extreme fear,
Contradicting everything we hear.
I begin to cry, shake,
The lives of my enemies I easily end, yet my own I cannot take.
It takes distinct bravery and desperation,
To kill yourself through your weapon's last ovation,
To swallow the contents of that pill bottle, say,
That this is what you want, it's your only way.
Suicide...courageous is it not,
For forever in Hell does no one desire to rot.
Coughing up the cold steel tongue,
Tears, a broth of sweat among.
Rifle cradled in tremulous hands,
Body, soul forever in humbleness stands.
A clank as the magazine impacts the ground,
Rifle next, a cold, bleak deathly sound,
The courage in me to pull that trigger will never be found.
An escape, all I desire,
Still, will I never be able to fire,
I just cannot pull that trigger.
Revenge
I never thought
I'd see you cry,
but as I watch the tears
spill over onto to you cheeks,
I laugh.
"Why, why?" you keep asking.
I bend down
so I can see your eyes.
You look away from me,
I scream
"Look at me!"
I smack you.
Finally, you meet my gaze.
"I hate you," I say
"I hate everything about you."
I turn around
looking for something sharp.
The boxcutter catches my eye.
The shiny razor
so new,
so sharp.
I slice my wrist,
painting your face
with my blood.
"Fuck you. FUCK YOU!" I scream.
I take the boxcutter
and slice up your stomach,
fresh blood
pooling on the floor.
You cry and scream
"STOP, PLEASE."
My hand slowly goes from your stomach
to your penis.
I grab it
and slowly
pull a scapel out of my pocket.
I slice off
your penis
and shove it
up your ass.
I take your balls
and shove them in your mouth.
I saw each of your fingers off.
I finally take my sharp, shiny boxcutter,
I bring it to your wrists
and make a few deep slices.
Then I caress your neck
and slice your throat
letting you bleed out.
I smile,
knowing your
broken and bloody.
I laugh
at the image of you
suffering
all alone.
I never thought
I'd see you cry,
but as I watch the tears
spill over onto to you cheeks,
I laugh.
"Why, why?" you keep asking.
I bend down
so I can see your eyes.
You look away from me,
I scream
"Look at me!"
I smack you.
Finally, you meet my gaze.
"I hate you," I say
"I hate everything about you."
I turn around
looking for something sharp.
The boxcutter catches my eye.
The shiny razor
so new,
so sharp.
I slice my wrist,
painting your face
with my blood.
"Fuck you. FUCK YOU!" I scream.
I take the boxcutter
and slice up your stomach,
fresh blood
pooling on the floor.
You cry and scream
"STOP, PLEASE."
My hand slowly goes from your stomach
to your penis.
I grab it
and slowly
pull a scapel out of my pocket.
I slice off
your penis
and shove it
up your ass.
I take your balls
and shove them in your mouth.
I saw each of your fingers off.
I finally take my sharp, shiny boxcutter,
I bring it to your wrists
and make a few deep slices.
Then I caress your neck
and slice your throat
letting you bleed out.
I smile,
knowing your
broken and bloody.
I laugh
at the image of you
suffering
all alone.
The Winner
They float around her,
little voices whispering
in her ears.
Telling her the lies and
hate she feels inside.
Surrounding her
they shut out all sanity,
she's all alone with her demons
as they tear at her spirit.
He will pay,
they will all pay.
Holding a steak knife
stolen from the top drawer
of her mother's kitchen,
she makes her way inside.
She glances around,
gripping the knife tight in her hand.
Eyes locked onto his tall frame
she makes her way over to him.
Tapping him on the shoulder
he turns, his abdomen plunging
deep into the knife
she clutches in her outstretched arm.
Speaking softly she asks him
to remember.
Remember the night
he stole her innocence,
the night she lost herself forever,
the night her blood dripped on the ground,
forever marking the spot
where she was forced into womanhood.
In his last dying breath
he whispers, you deserved it you whore.
I always win.
Her screams hold the horrors
kept hidden inside her.
They echo down the hallway resonating
the pain that seeped slowly from her arms
every day since,
the anger that clutches her heart
and threatens to suffocate her.
Twisting the blade around in
his abdomen she stands over him
as he sinks to the ground.
He stares up at her with lifeless eyes.
Spinning around she locks eyes with those behind her.
She whispers,
now, who's next?
They float around her,
little voices whispering
in her ears.
Telling her the lies and
hate she feels inside.
Surrounding her
they shut out all sanity,
she's all alone with her demons
as they tear at her spirit.
He will pay,
they will all pay.
Holding a steak knife
stolen from the top drawer
of her mother's kitchen,
she makes her way inside.
She glances around,
gripping the knife tight in her hand.
Eyes locked onto his tall frame
she makes her way over to him.
Tapping him on the shoulder
he turns, his abdomen plunging
deep into the knife
she clutches in her outstretched arm.
Speaking softly she asks him
to remember.
Remember the night
he stole her innocence,
the night she lost herself forever,
the night her blood dripped on the ground,
forever marking the spot
where she was forced into womanhood.
In his last dying breath
he whispers, you deserved it you whore.
I always win.
Her screams hold the horrors
kept hidden inside her.
They echo down the hallway resonating
the pain that seeped slowly from her arms
every day since,
the anger that clutches her heart
and threatens to suffocate her.
Twisting the blade around in
his abdomen she stands over him
as he sinks to the ground.
He stares up at her with lifeless eyes.
Spinning around she locks eyes with those behind her.
She whispers,
now, who's next?
Anonymous
<< post removed >>
Nursery
Do I run
with a pocket full of pennies
and a lolly pop still wrapped?
Mummy's going to hate me
and Daddy would grab his belt
if they realised what
I've just done.
Today at nursery I cut the girl's
wrist just to see the red,
like red paint, and used it like
a cut out potato or carrot
in vegetable printing.
Such a pretty picture.
Over the fence,
climb, climb, climb
after breaking her limb
and leaving her screaming
in the bathroom within. Nap time's now.
Those carers really should
care more.
Do I run
with a pocket full of pennies
and a lolly pop still wrapped?
Mummy's going to hate me
and Daddy would grab his belt
if they realised what
I've just done.
Today at nursery I cut the girl's
wrist just to see the red,
like red paint, and used it like
a cut out potato or carrot
in vegetable printing.
Such a pretty picture.
Over the fence,
climb, climb, climb
after breaking her limb
and leaving her screaming
in the bathroom within. Nap time's now.
Those carers really should
care more.
I strive for attention,
Being loved was my only intention.
I was scared and my hand was shaking
This feeling I wasn't faking
Its a murder game
I just wanted the fame.
I dragged out the razor sharp knife
I wanted to end his life
The blade was so cool on my fingertips
Off his clothes rip
I quietly pulled out the blade
In his heart I let it raid.
Sweet red blood spilled
This is sensation filled.
I need to run and hide
But never want this feeling to subside,
Being loved was my only intention.
I was scared and my hand was shaking
This feeling I wasn't faking
Its a murder game
I just wanted the fame.
I dragged out the razor sharp knife
I wanted to end his life
The blade was so cool on my fingertips
Off his clothes rip
I quietly pulled out the blade
In his heart I let it raid.
Sweet red blood spilled
This is sensation filled.
I need to run and hide
But never want this feeling to subside,
I'm done
Time for the bullying to stop
I am ready to go
Got my guns in stock
I am my own army
An army of one
No one will live
when I am done
I sneak into school
and place my C4
The students start to come
I hide on the 1st floor
I Start shooting
everyone I see
That's what they get
for bullying me
A shoot my way out
And run and hide
I trigger the explosives
And make sure no ones left alive
My worst enemy
Finds me
I pull the trigger
And watch him bleed
Time for the bullying to stop
I am ready to go
Got my guns in stock
I am my own army
An army of one
No one will live
when I am done
I sneak into school
and place my C4
The students start to come
I hide on the 1st floor
I Start shooting
everyone I see
That's what they get
for bullying me
A shoot my way out
And run and hide
I trigger the explosives
And make sure no ones left alive
My worst enemy
Finds me
I pull the trigger
And watch him bleed
[font=Courier New][size=2]
< the 357 magnum of your love >
loosening
the safety
pointing
the muzzle
squeezing
the trigger
hemorrhaging
from the hard-on of your heart
bleeding to death
through the exit wound of your love
- - -
< the 357 magnum of your love >
loosening
the safety
pointing
the muzzle
squeezing
the trigger
hemorrhaging
from the hard-on of your heart
bleeding to death
through the exit wound of your love
- - -
Anonymous
ENDLESS
I saw what you wished to hide,
the pretty little boys all in a row...
My turn, to interpret your sickness,
to reap your frame of its skin
to peal away its meat, and dine
upon its tenderness...
lavishing your spine with sharpened caresses...
tickling agonized nerves with jagged nails
... deeper, grasping bone...
and pulling loose a rib.
Tender scalp, left full of hair
I split it down the center
with the gentle nurturing of a barbarian surgeon,
digging into
soft whitish,blue bone,
carving blessings onto your skull...
the warmth of your last moments of life
... your pulse slowing, but regular
I lick it, snip the left ventricle
with my incisors... the red gift
so fresh, so full of flavor...
my indulgence.... endless...
I saw what you wished to hide,
the pretty little boys all in a row...
My turn, to interpret your sickness,
to reap your frame of its skin
to peal away its meat, and dine
upon its tenderness...
lavishing your spine with sharpened caresses...
tickling agonized nerves with jagged nails
... deeper, grasping bone...
and pulling loose a rib.
Tender scalp, left full of hair
I split it down the center
with the gentle nurturing of a barbarian surgeon,
digging into
soft whitish,blue bone,
carving blessings onto your skull...
the warmth of your last moments of life
... your pulse slowing, but regular
I lick it, snip the left ventricle
with my incisors... the red gift
so fresh, so full of flavor...
my indulgence.... endless...
