Poetry competition CLOSED 18th August 2012 11:45pm
WINNER
raorrick (Rachel O.)
raorrick (Rachel O.)
RUNNERS-UP:
lepperochan
and Indie
PERFECT CRIME ......
Poetry Contest Description
PERFECT CRIME …. If you could commit a crime, knowing that you could get away with it, what would it be and how would you go about it? You may interpret the remit in any way you wish. You may reference the seven sins or anything you imagine beyond
One entry per writer.
No cap on words, as long or short as you wish, go on write your heart out. My thanks in advance to all who enter. Good Luck one and all
No cap on words, as long or short as you wish, go on write your heart out. My thanks in advance to all who enter. Good Luck one and all
thanks, I will be back. 
Anonymous
UNTIL FOREVER
My love gave me a diamond engagement ring
He promised that our love would last forever
We married under a canopy in a garden
I took the marriage ring, and hoped it would be forever
Honeymoon was in Hawaii, bought a house
We thought our love would last forever
We were so in love, we made out our trusts
We were so in love, we bought our cemetery plots
My handsome, tall, intelligent husband
Gave me three beautiful children
Outside the house, I had a little garden
Inherited from a previous owner
One day I found my love, in flagrante delicto
He said he was sorry, would leave half the money to me
I accepted his generous decision
Cooked him his favorite meal
He was in the hospital for a week
Forensics could not find a thing
I inherited everything
My friends came to console me
Told my consolers my love would transcend everything
I would love my late husband forever.
My love gave me a diamond engagement ring
He promised that our love would last forever
We married under a canopy in a garden
I took the marriage ring, and hoped it would be forever
Honeymoon was in Hawaii, bought a house
We thought our love would last forever
We were so in love, we made out our trusts
We were so in love, we bought our cemetery plots
My handsome, tall, intelligent husband
Gave me three beautiful children
Outside the house, I had a little garden
Inherited from a previous owner
One day I found my love, in flagrante delicto
He said he was sorry, would leave half the money to me
I accepted his generous decision
Cooked him his favorite meal
He was in the hospital for a week
Forensics could not find a thing
I inherited everything
My friends came to console me
Told my consolers my love would transcend everything
I would love my late husband forever.
Mementos
Edgar looked down at the body before him in revulsion. It was so… still … and warm, like it was sleeping. He didn’t look at it like a person that had once had an identity. It was a body, nothing more, nothing less. Dark hair tangled around the body’s neck, obscuring its lost, empty eyes in the mass of long waves. It didn’t care now, it felt no pain, no remorse, assuming, he thought, it ever had. What is this plague of humanity, but a strange chance of fate?
Stealing himself against his revulsion to touch it again, he sought his tools. This body wasn’t the first and he fingered the long clay beaded necklace around his neck remembering the others. No one should find them, not in one piece at least, and nothing that was at all recogonisable as even remotely human.
Drawing a large glass of whiskey, Edgar downed it swiftly, the fiery liquid simultaneously burning and numbing him. Rifling through the bag of newly purchased tools he found what he was looking for; a hammer. This part revolted him the most, yet it was the only part that was worth the effort of stealing a life. Mementos weren’t that easy to conceal, unless you knew how.
He cringed as he rolled the cooling body onto its back and stuffed the mouth full of cotton wool from his pocket. There was nothing quite as disgusting as cutting open a body to search for its teeth.
Standing over the body, Edgar closed his eyes as the hammer swung in a sharp arc at its mouth. He didn’t need to see it; he’d had enough practice to judge the distance precisely. The sound of cracking bones pierced the air, the impact of the hit reverberating through his fingers and up his arm. He smiled wryly at the dense silence that followed each hit. When he was done, he checked the mouth tentatively, checking for remnants of teeth. Finding none, he rolled the body over onto its stomach, the teeth clattering to the floor. He didn’t want to roll it again, he’d had enough of touching the revolting shell of a thing, but he needed to remove the cotton wool and make sure he had each and every tooth.
Satisfied that he had them all he carried them, like the precious things they were, over to his work bench.
Now came the fun part. Slicing off a clump of clay, he kneaded it into smooth consistency, easy to mould in his hands. Breaking off small portions of clay he rolled each tooth within it, carefully going over each bead to make sure no stray hint of bone was visible and set each aside to dry.
Losing himself in the feel of the clay and the secret of hiding each tooth within it to add to his already numerous collection, Edgar worked steadily, perfecting each bead before checking the kiln and retiring to bed, satisfied and at peace for the first time since the ‘event’.
He would dismember and burn the body later. It was only the mementos that mattered.
http://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems/53616-mementos/
Edgar looked down at the body before him in revulsion. It was so… still … and warm, like it was sleeping. He didn’t look at it like a person that had once had an identity. It was a body, nothing more, nothing less. Dark hair tangled around the body’s neck, obscuring its lost, empty eyes in the mass of long waves. It didn’t care now, it felt no pain, no remorse, assuming, he thought, it ever had. What is this plague of humanity, but a strange chance of fate?
Stealing himself against his revulsion to touch it again, he sought his tools. This body wasn’t the first and he fingered the long clay beaded necklace around his neck remembering the others. No one should find them, not in one piece at least, and nothing that was at all recogonisable as even remotely human.
Drawing a large glass of whiskey, Edgar downed it swiftly, the fiery liquid simultaneously burning and numbing him. Rifling through the bag of newly purchased tools he found what he was looking for; a hammer. This part revolted him the most, yet it was the only part that was worth the effort of stealing a life. Mementos weren’t that easy to conceal, unless you knew how.
He cringed as he rolled the cooling body onto its back and stuffed the mouth full of cotton wool from his pocket. There was nothing quite as disgusting as cutting open a body to search for its teeth.
Standing over the body, Edgar closed his eyes as the hammer swung in a sharp arc at its mouth. He didn’t need to see it; he’d had enough practice to judge the distance precisely. The sound of cracking bones pierced the air, the impact of the hit reverberating through his fingers and up his arm. He smiled wryly at the dense silence that followed each hit. When he was done, he checked the mouth tentatively, checking for remnants of teeth. Finding none, he rolled the body over onto its stomach, the teeth clattering to the floor. He didn’t want to roll it again, he’d had enough of touching the revolting shell of a thing, but he needed to remove the cotton wool and make sure he had each and every tooth.
Satisfied that he had them all he carried them, like the precious things they were, over to his work bench.
Now came the fun part. Slicing off a clump of clay, he kneaded it into smooth consistency, easy to mould in his hands. Breaking off small portions of clay he rolled each tooth within it, carefully going over each bead to make sure no stray hint of bone was visible and set each aside to dry.
Losing himself in the feel of the clay and the secret of hiding each tooth within it to add to his already numerous collection, Edgar worked steadily, perfecting each bead before checking the kiln and retiring to bed, satisfied and at peace for the first time since the ‘event’.
He would dismember and burn the body later. It was only the mementos that mattered.
http://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems/53616-mementos/
Should've never crossed me in the first place,
but in the worse way.
I always knew I'd see this day.
the time has come
for a nigga to grab a tool & put a mask on,
then to get the task done he gon get his blast on.
Dirty deeds be the reason, it's hunting season for me. Phony homies don't get no muthafuckin mercy you see.
masked up, his times up & I ain't givin a fuck. When I catch him on sight I'm gonna riddle this nigga.
Think fast nigga, but I'm too quick on the trigga
4 to his chest at close range single shot to the dome.
4 hit his chest without a vest & now I'm sendin him home.
one to his head leaves him lying there dead & I'm gone.
but in the worse way.
I always knew I'd see this day.
the time has come
for a nigga to grab a tool & put a mask on,
then to get the task done he gon get his blast on.
Dirty deeds be the reason, it's hunting season for me. Phony homies don't get no muthafuckin mercy you see.
masked up, his times up & I ain't givin a fuck. When I catch him on sight I'm gonna riddle this nigga.
Think fast nigga, but I'm too quick on the trigga
4 to his chest at close range single shot to the dome.
4 hit his chest without a vest & now I'm sendin him home.
one to his head leaves him lying there dead & I'm gone.
The nut Cracker
“Christ! Did her nagging never fucking end?” Charles wondered as he observed his wife talking at him about God only knows what. He’d end up killing the bitch one of these days. It had gotten to the stage where Saturday night football on the telly wasn’t even sacred anymore.
“I saw you checking her out” Anne would sneer at him whenever the camera roved over the cheerleaders, “Why don’t you go ask one of them to clean up after your shit?” It amused him that she never went quite so far as suggesting that if he did meet one of the cheerleaders off the TV, he could tap her until his penis was raw.
Wednesday, Anne’s pay day, 8 am, and like clockwork she was out the door to do the groceries. Three hours later she’d be home with all “nut free produce” bitching about this and that, but for three hours Charles was free.
She'd left her phone behind again.it pinged when a message came through.It read "Anne, hope to see you later, love you". he knew who it was from. the same person as the other hundreds he'd found yesterday when she'd left the phone behind.William bloody Harris.
a quick Facebook check gave his photo and the bar he drank in every night.
He'd have to kill the bitch.he sat down and went over his plan again.
on his way home from work that evening he stopped off at the supermarket.bought a bag of Brazil nuts and a silver nut cracker.
got to the house and had a quick shower.once dressed, he put the bag of nuts and the nutcracker in his pocket and made his way out to the car.
He stopped the car outside the shamrock bar on main street.walked in and sat on the stool next to William. William had no idea Charles was his lovers husband.they both sat and talked for a while.after four or five drinks Charles took out the bag of nuts
and cracked one open.he offered William one. William had never had a Brazil nut and enjoyed them to the extent that he'd eaten most of the bag.
At ten o'clock William excused himself saying that he had a rendezvous with a beautiful woman and hoped to see Charles again some time.
At half past ten William and Anne met in the usual place.It was a small run down motel about three miles out of town.here Anne transformed herself from being a manipulative nagging wife into a submissive lover.
She reached into her red holdall and took out her crotch-less play-suit and ball gag. she felt so sexy when she put them on. she'd already got turned on during the car journey just from the anticipation of it all.
He put the choker on her and led her over to the bed.Anne always got into character when she donned the play-suit.she walked on all fours growling like a dog.
he handcuffed her to the bed.then started teasing her with one of the many toys they had chosen for the evenings play.
Charles had started a brawl in the pub.put his hands all over a passing waitress and threw a dollar bill at her feet. the waitress slapped him in the face so he'd caught her with an uppercut to the chin.knocked her on her back.
three patrons of the bar grabbed Charles, they took turns in knocking seven shades of shit out of him then threw him onto the side walk outside the Bar.
Had Anne not been wearing the ball gag William would have heard her screaming for help when she started going into anaphylactic shock.had she not been wearing the play suit he'd have seen the hives.he honestly thought he was doing better than usual and so went harder and faster.
It wasn't until Anne went limp that William knew there was something wrong.
While Charles was on the sidewalk nursing his wounds,Anne died during a sex act with her lover. she had a severe allergy to nuts .
Brazil nuts are the only nut that once eaten, the oil can be passed through sexual intercourse.
“Christ! Did her nagging never fucking end?” Charles wondered as he observed his wife talking at him about God only knows what. He’d end up killing the bitch one of these days. It had gotten to the stage where Saturday night football on the telly wasn’t even sacred anymore.
“I saw you checking her out” Anne would sneer at him whenever the camera roved over the cheerleaders, “Why don’t you go ask one of them to clean up after your shit?” It amused him that she never went quite so far as suggesting that if he did meet one of the cheerleaders off the TV, he could tap her until his penis was raw.
Wednesday, Anne’s pay day, 8 am, and like clockwork she was out the door to do the groceries. Three hours later she’d be home with all “nut free produce” bitching about this and that, but for three hours Charles was free.
She'd left her phone behind again.it pinged when a message came through.It read "Anne, hope to see you later, love you". he knew who it was from. the same person as the other hundreds he'd found yesterday when she'd left the phone behind.William bloody Harris.
a quick Facebook check gave his photo and the bar he drank in every night.
He'd have to kill the bitch.he sat down and went over his plan again.
on his way home from work that evening he stopped off at the supermarket.bought a bag of Brazil nuts and a silver nut cracker.
got to the house and had a quick shower.once dressed, he put the bag of nuts and the nutcracker in his pocket and made his way out to the car.
He stopped the car outside the shamrock bar on main street.walked in and sat on the stool next to William. William had no idea Charles was his lovers husband.they both sat and talked for a while.after four or five drinks Charles took out the bag of nuts
and cracked one open.he offered William one. William had never had a Brazil nut and enjoyed them to the extent that he'd eaten most of the bag.
At ten o'clock William excused himself saying that he had a rendezvous with a beautiful woman and hoped to see Charles again some time.
At half past ten William and Anne met in the usual place.It was a small run down motel about three miles out of town.here Anne transformed herself from being a manipulative nagging wife into a submissive lover.
She reached into her red holdall and took out her crotch-less play-suit and ball gag. she felt so sexy when she put them on. she'd already got turned on during the car journey just from the anticipation of it all.
He put the choker on her and led her over to the bed.Anne always got into character when she donned the play-suit.she walked on all fours growling like a dog.
he handcuffed her to the bed.then started teasing her with one of the many toys they had chosen for the evenings play.
Charles had started a brawl in the pub.put his hands all over a passing waitress and threw a dollar bill at her feet. the waitress slapped him in the face so he'd caught her with an uppercut to the chin.knocked her on her back.
three patrons of the bar grabbed Charles, they took turns in knocking seven shades of shit out of him then threw him onto the side walk outside the Bar.
Had Anne not been wearing the ball gag William would have heard her screaming for help when she started going into anaphylactic shock.had she not been wearing the play suit he'd have seen the hives.he honestly thought he was doing better than usual and so went harder and faster.
It wasn't until Anne went limp that William knew there was something wrong.
While Charles was on the sidewalk nursing his wounds,Anne died during a sex act with her lover. she had a severe allergy to nuts .
Brazil nuts are the only nut that once eaten, the oil can be passed through sexual intercourse.
Freedom
twenty years together
and not once met her mother
she despised our love
said we’d both go to hell
we didn’t care
she was my everything
and I hers
it was a Friday night
the night before
our anniversary
she was on her way home
there was a drunk driver
he weaved his way searching
for his victim
he found her
tubes came from every opening
others were created
kept alive only by electricity
a wish she had expressed against
in the past
I met her mother that day
she was the next of kin
the one who could decide
my love’s wishes
twenty years together
and I had no say
for we were not married
we were not allowed
the law said so
her mother’s own guilt
kept those machines running
I pleaded for months
to let her go
she stopped letting me see her
another decision she was allowed to make
now my love was alone
I had to do something
a week passed
I studied the hospital
it was busier in the day than the night
no one would have time to notice a stranger
I bought a nurse's uniform
walked past her mother in the waiting room
walked past the empty nurse's station
walked into my love's room
thanked her
I thanked her for the life we had together
for the memories she had given me
the strength she had helped me find
I kissed her forehead
squeezed her hand
unplugged her machines
muted the alarms
I walked out of the room
past the empty nurse's station
past her mother in the waiting room
and into the freedom of knowing
I had just freed my love.
twenty years together
and not once met her mother
she despised our love
said we’d both go to hell
we didn’t care
she was my everything
and I hers
it was a Friday night
the night before
our anniversary
she was on her way home
there was a drunk driver
he weaved his way searching
for his victim
he found her
tubes came from every opening
others were created
kept alive only by electricity
a wish she had expressed against
in the past
I met her mother that day
she was the next of kin
the one who could decide
my love’s wishes
twenty years together
and I had no say
for we were not married
we were not allowed
the law said so
her mother’s own guilt
kept those machines running
I pleaded for months
to let her go
she stopped letting me see her
another decision she was allowed to make
now my love was alone
I had to do something
a week passed
I studied the hospital
it was busier in the day than the night
no one would have time to notice a stranger
I bought a nurse's uniform
walked past her mother in the waiting room
walked past the empty nurse's station
walked into my love's room
thanked her
I thanked her for the life we had together
for the memories she had given me
the strength she had helped me find
I kissed her forehead
squeezed her hand
unplugged her machines
muted the alarms
I walked out of the room
past the empty nurse's station
past her mother in the waiting room
and into the freedom of knowing
I had just freed my love.
Illusion
He was two things to me.
He was a magician, and he stole things.
He drank earl grey tea
He gave me clothes and diamond rings.
What I did was far worse.
I put bullets in his "Russian Roulette" gun.
Both the coffin and the hearse
Within a week, were - ironically - stolen.
He was two things to me.
He was a magician, and he stole things.
He drank earl grey tea
He gave me clothes and diamond rings.
What I did was far worse.
I put bullets in his "Russian Roulette" gun.
Both the coffin and the hearse
Within a week, were - ironically - stolen.
Mysterious Mind
e
behaving wrong apone this bed
hoping to please those who dont care.
living 2 lives to hide oneself.
pure innocent women, smart to her brain.
living amongst the night they call insane.
dancing to the music she moves with ways
making all men feel to watch and gaze.
take them to her room will she will kiss
the sweet goodnight
to walk apone them all
disguised all to right.
why has she occurred in many men dream
killing those she dance for,
to music when they scream.
business women she is, and get her job dune
to walk amungs the night
to carry unborn son.
-Kumiko Yamamoto
e
behaving wrong apone this bed
hoping to please those who dont care.
living 2 lives to hide oneself.
pure innocent women, smart to her brain.
living amongst the night they call insane.
dancing to the music she moves with ways
making all men feel to watch and gaze.
take them to her room will she will kiss
the sweet goodnight
to walk apone them all
disguised all to right.
why has she occurred in many men dream
killing those she dance for,
to music when they scream.
business women she is, and get her job dune
to walk amungs the night
to carry unborn son.
-Kumiko Yamamoto
I would study her behavior
For 23 days
And 23 nights
My eyes would follow every move
Then on the 23rd night
I advance on my prey
As she slips beneath the covers
I'd grip the blade firmly in my hand
Feeling the indent on my skin
I'd hover above her sleeping form
Plotting
Contemplating
For 7 more nights I did this
Never coming close
to the act i would perform
I plunged the steel into her heart
And watched in amazement at how easily she spilled
He eyes flashed open and suprise
Moments before she slipped away
I pulled all the blankets
Corner to corner
And wrapped them in tarp
Took the bundle to the swamp
And watched as my masterpiece was swallowed in the muck and mire
For 23 days
And 23 nights
My eyes would follow every move
Then on the 23rd night
I advance on my prey
As she slips beneath the covers
I'd grip the blade firmly in my hand
Feeling the indent on my skin
I'd hover above her sleeping form
Plotting
Contemplating
For 7 more nights I did this
Never coming close
to the act i would perform
I plunged the steel into her heart
And watched in amazement at how easily she spilled
He eyes flashed open and suprise
Moments before she slipped away
I pulled all the blankets
Corner to corner
And wrapped them in tarp
Took the bundle to the swamp
And watched as my masterpiece was swallowed in the muck and mire
My grateful thanks to all of you who played a part.
Consensus seemed to agree that the perfect crime would involve the shredding of the 6th commandment and what a range of imaginations you all possess. I really enjoyed reading for this comp
Indie ~ A really spine chilling piece, your portrayal of the specter of the serial killer is scary as hell. Well done
Kitty ~ Hell hath no fury and all that, the just deserts of the unfaithful lover. I’m guessing you had him cremated, so’s not the waste the burial plot?
Redbud ~ a difficult read, but that which doesn’t move us, doesn’t teach us? A vivid and brutal portrayal of dark and unforgiving places
Craic Fella ~ second outing for the unfaithful lover, but oh how very different from the other. What a twist at the end!
Rachel O ~ your piece had juxtaposition to it, working the reader’s emotions in most unexpected ways. The title Freedom was by the final lines spot on.
Amalasuntha ~ short and mysterious, but you left me wanting to know so much more.
Kumiko ~ (Killing those she dance for to music when they scream) leaves the reader free reign of the imagination towards this vivid image, another serial killer here and with a different slant? Well done
Danii ~ That countdown time, those ticking days and nights really added an extra element of foreboding to this piece. Almost felt like a white knuckle scene from an old Hitchcock film. The disposal in the muck and mire capped it nicely. Truly scary. Well Done
Winner ~ Rachel O. the unexpected turning of the story thread and your lines ~ I thanked her for the life we had together, for the memories she had given me, the strength she had helped me find ~ Right there, that’s where your write got me.
Runners Up
Craicster, that’s an imagination you have and no mistake. Now if Peter Falk were still with us, how would he solve this one? Those Brazil nuts, who knew? Xmas day is never going to be the same LOL. Excellent
Indie ~ your whole rendition of this dip into the dark psyche and that idea regarding the hiding of the trophies was such a clever stroke. There is an Alex Cross (Morgan Freeman please) movie waiting to be made of this. Excellent
Thank you all, for me you made this comp worthwhile
Consensus seemed to agree that the perfect crime would involve the shredding of the 6th commandment and what a range of imaginations you all possess. I really enjoyed reading for this comp
Indie ~ A really spine chilling piece, your portrayal of the specter of the serial killer is scary as hell. Well done
Kitty ~ Hell hath no fury and all that, the just deserts of the unfaithful lover. I’m guessing you had him cremated, so’s not the waste the burial plot?
Redbud ~ a difficult read, but that which doesn’t move us, doesn’t teach us? A vivid and brutal portrayal of dark and unforgiving places
Craic Fella ~ second outing for the unfaithful lover, but oh how very different from the other. What a twist at the end!
Rachel O ~ your piece had juxtaposition to it, working the reader’s emotions in most unexpected ways. The title Freedom was by the final lines spot on.
Amalasuntha ~ short and mysterious, but you left me wanting to know so much more.
Kumiko ~ (Killing those she dance for to music when they scream) leaves the reader free reign of the imagination towards this vivid image, another serial killer here and with a different slant? Well done
Danii ~ That countdown time, those ticking days and nights really added an extra element of foreboding to this piece. Almost felt like a white knuckle scene from an old Hitchcock film. The disposal in the muck and mire capped it nicely. Truly scary. Well Done
Winner ~ Rachel O. the unexpected turning of the story thread and your lines ~ I thanked her for the life we had together, for the memories she had given me, the strength she had helped me find ~ Right there, that’s where your write got me.
Runners Up
Craicster, that’s an imagination you have and no mistake. Now if Peter Falk were still with us, how would he solve this one? Those Brazil nuts, who knew? Xmas day is never going to be the same LOL. Excellent
Indie ~ your whole rendition of this dip into the dark psyche and that idea regarding the hiding of the trophies was such a clever stroke. There is an Alex Cross (Morgan Freeman please) movie waiting to be made of this. Excellent
Thank you all, for me you made this comp worthwhile
Wooow! I didn't expect that at all. Very cool, thank you. 
