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Reverend Director II...

Now the silence is suddenly broken
as Killer's boots whisper on the floor
The reverend sounds a "heh" of satisfaction
"She's coming back for more"

"Who's there" he says, is it you?
Now you get yourself on back here
No one will know, if you do
You ain't got nothing to fear

A hardened hand grasps his throat
and another holds a knife
Little grunts escape his lips
and he struggles for his life

Lifted from the floor
flung down on the ground
The screams are crushed with his breath
he cannot make a sound

"No child deserves your treatment"
he heard his attacker say
You won't go to prison
you won't live another day

"Oh God, I am so sorry"
Not yet, you frigging perv
The Lord ain't gonna save you
Boy, you've got some nerve

Don't ask me for forgiveness
I will only give you pain
You're a perverted fuck, I'm certain
you won't ever do this again

Searing hot, splintered pain wells up
Manhood twisted from it's root
A slice of the blade, burning hot
A kick from a steel-toed boot

Silk shirt of white is frothy-red
hot breath is leaking out
His eyes are wild and fearful
If his throat would clear; he'd shout

Pain lances through his body
as he tries to rise once more
Killer stares and wonders
Will he make it to the door?

Inflicting pain upon this one
is something to enjoy
Remote and distanced memories
from a long-ago dear boy

A slave to hurt and agony
back in his tender years
Bad Uncle Michael touched him
made him cry real tears

Style / type: 
Structured: Western
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of my title?
How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Editing stage: 

Comments

Is this part one or the end. did I miss something along the way I may have. All the same whichever it is great I love your "Killer Poems" see you on the dark side
Chrys

Chrys
Let your mercy spill on all these burning hearts in hell(Leonard Cohen)

only part two! You haven't missed anything I think this could go on for a while. Killer sends his regards, ~ Gee

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author comment

"Little grunts escape his lips
and he struggles for his life"

AS he struggles?

"The screams are crushed with his breath
he cannot make a sound"

Screams crushed with his breath...

"Inflicting pain upon this one
is something to enjoy"

I don't like this thought on any living thing neither man nor beast.

A strange sad tale this Sir Gee,
Not one I can let go with, or feel involved with.

Yr Ann of Leaves.

"The image of yourself which you see in a mirror Is dead,
but the reflection of the moon on water, lives." Kenzan.

and he struggles for his life. It is meant to convey two thoughts. He grunts as his throat is squeezed, [and] he struggles for his life. This is not everyone's cup of tea and I don't expect it to be. Killer is my alter-ego, the one that wishes that he could do something about the injustices of the world. Sir Gee will have his turn soon, he is a lot nicer than Killer. Love to my Queen, ~ Gee

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author comment

I remember Mr Bronson and loved him
and then Leon too

I knew those guys
hadnt nothing to do with them in
that manner though as I was not
catholic but went to their church
along with the others
(associate was catholic)
and then it came out he was
abusing the boys

and most of these sadists
just get transferred
all that power and its not
enough So much for the
"innocents"
showed me that God does
not live in a church

I remember one who actually
got his end
and the killers couldnt send
the car off the dock
but it only got halfway off
and they got caught due to
a technical matter
Sad really
so much for freedom
They should put something
heavier on the gas pedal!

unfortunate things in life

I love these poems though

and I admire the Killer
his professional business
and all

Thank You Geezer for your
many variation of poems!

are glad that you like our exploits. We are both big fans of yours too! Killer thinks that your poems are very sexy and yet sad, like him. I love the words and phrases you use. i always see the places, the rooms you describe and think; I've been there! ~ Gee

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author comment

as society decays the hope burns
like warmth fires in the breeze
that blows into town
the lightbulb in the lamp
over the door

something vintaged and sad
too about darkness
an ancient spiritualness to its
edge and softness

and mysterious

intriqued by the dark of night?
And afraid... scared?
Ancients knew of the gods
There were traces of them in the sky

Holes in the black blanket of night
Ripped with a bone knife
by a man in need of faith
A glimpse of eternity

~ Gee

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author comment

Man, can you write! This was great! Veramente splendido ! [I am writng less in English these days. Its safer lol ]. But truly splendid this.

Joe

I'm glad to see you. Also glad to see you like Killer. Thanks for the splendid review! Stay tuned to this channel for more carnage! ~ Gee

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author comment

It isn't the sort of poetry I would write, but you succeeded with a complication. I am now curious as to how you will work it to a climax. This section is pretty rough and tumble, so the climax will have to exceed it. However, (and I'm betting you know this) you don't have to "out scream" the complication with your climax. In fact I could see this going in precisely the other direction. The climax being something quiet in terms of violence and such, but heavy with emotion.
wesley

W. H. Snow

A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds. Percy Bysshe Shelley

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no idea of how it will go, until I write it out. I never do. Sometimes I just get a word to start with and then it keeps coming a few words at a time until the whole thing is finished. Strange way to write maybe, but it works for me. I will start working on the climax tonight or tomorrow, so that I can post. ~ Gee

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author comment
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