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I did not have anything to do with these murders. Ever.

quote by O.J. Simpson
Added by Lucian Velea
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Murders In The Rue Morgue

I remember it as plain as day
although it happened in the dark of the night.
I was strolling through the streets of Paris
and it was cold it was starting to rain.
And then I heard a piercing scream
and I rushed to the scene of the crime
but all I found was the butchered remains
of two girls lay side by side.
Murders in the Rue Morgue
someone call the Gendarmes
Murders in the Rue Morgue
run before the killers go free
There's some people coming down the street
at last there's someone heard my call
I can't understand why they're pointing at me
I never done nothing at all.
But I must have got some blood on my hands
because everyone's shouting at me
I can't speak French so I couldn't explain
and like a fool I started running away.
Murders in the Rue Morgue
someone call the Gendarmes
Murders in the Rue Morgue
am I ever gonna be free.
And now I've gotta get away from the arms of the law.
All France is looking for me.
I've gotta find my way across the border for sure
down the south to Italy.
Murders in the Rue Morgue
someone call the Gendarmes
Murders in the Rue Morgue
I'm never going home.
Well I made it to the border at last
But I can't erase the scene from my mind
Anytime somebody stares at me, well
I just start running blind
Well I'm moving through the shadows at night
Away from the staring eyes
Any day they'll be looking for me
'Cause I know I show the signs of...
Murders in the Rue Morgue
running from the Gendarmes
Murders in the Rue Morgue
running from the arms of the law
Murders in the Rue Morgue
running from the Gendarmes
Murders in the Rue Morgue
am I ever gonna be free
It took so long and I'm getting so tired
I'm running out of places to hide

[...] Read more

song performed by In Flames
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Murders In The Rue Morgue

I remember it as plain as day
Although it happened in the dark of the night.
I was strolling through the streets of paris
And it was cold it was starting to rain.
And then I heard a piercing scream
And I rushed to the scene of the crime
But all I found was the butchered remains
Of two girls lay side by side.
Murders in the rue morgue
Someone call the gendarmes
Murders in the rue morgue
Run before the killers go free
Theres some people coming down the street
At last theres someone heard my call
I cant understand why theyre pointing at me
I never done nothing at all.
But I must have got some blood on my hands
Because everyones shouting at me
I cant speak french so I couldnt explain
And like a fool I started running away.
Murders in the rue morgue
Someone call the gendarmes
Murders in the rue morgue
Am I ever gonna be free.
And now Ive gotta get away from the arms of the law.
All france is looking for me.
Ive gotta find my way across the border for sure
Down the south to italy.
Murders in the rue morgue
Someone call the gendarmes
Murders in the rue morgue
Im never going home.
Well I made it to the border at last
But I cant erase the scene from my mind
Anytime somebody stares at me, well
I just start running blind
Well Im moving through the shadows at night
Away from the staring eyes
Any day theyll be looking for me
cause I know I show the signs of...
Murders in the rue morgue
Running from the gendarmes
Murders in the rue morgue
Running from the arms of the law
Murders in the rue morgue
Running from the gendarmes
Murders in the rue morgue
Am I ever gonna be free
It took so long and Im getting so tired
Im running out of places to hide

[...] Read more

song performed by Iron Maiden
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Loves A Deadly Weapon

Ooh give it to me
Im gettin fired up
Hot thunders flowin through my blood
My temperatures risin, baby
I want the warmth of your touch
So get a grip
Im hot on your heels
Youre burnin up cause you know just how its gonna feel, yeah
And you just cant help yourself now, baby
cause this time its real, ow
Loves a deadly weapon
And murders on my mind
Time you learned a lesson
Gonna love you this time
Like sugar to a baby, yeah
Got something you could use
Make you an offer, baby
You cant refuse
There you stand all dressed in red
I got this feelin in me
Cant get you out of my head
One day you say you hate me
But I found you in my bed, yeah
Loves a deadly weapon
And murders on my mind
Im burnin up with fever
Im gonna love you this time
Yeah, yeah, Im gonna love this time, yeah, yeah, yeah
Loves a deadly weapon
And murders on my mind
Im burnin up with fever
I wanna love you, I wanna love you, yeah
One more time, ow

song performed by Kiss
Added by Lucian Velea
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Key To Nothing

No more doors
No more locks
No more windows
No more box
No more
No less
No more six foot digs
No more hypocrites
No more emptiness
No more consequence
No more puppet strings
No more disease
No more growing up
No more happiness
No more lying down
No more complacence
I have... I hold the key... to nothing... its a small
Killing
Murder... murders in the hands... of
Motion... as it seems to be
No more nothing
No more anything
No more you
No more me
No more posturing victories
No more nations to defeat
No more speaking truth
No more deceit
No more holding down
No more pushing me
No more new world order
No more anarchy
I have... I hold the key... to nothing... its a small
Killing
Murder... murders in the hands... of motion... as
It seems to be
Im washing my hands... of the whole thing
I want no more nothing
I have... I hold the key... to nothing... its a small
Killing
Murder... murders in the hands... of motion... as
It seems to be
Im washing my hands, of everything...
Of everything we are

song performed by Mudvayne
Added by Lucian Velea
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6 Foot 3'......[LONG; Scary; Gross; Murder]

I'll tell you a crime story that you've never heard,
But first you'll have to promise to not spread the word.
It started many years ago on the Massachusetts coast.
Most of those who know of it are now themselves ghosts.

It is a murder story frightful and most ghastly.
If you mention it to the police they'll laugh, and YOU may be the victim, lastly.

After high school in the 60's I attended Boston College.
I went there for the social life, and to gain some more knowledge.
While there I joined a fraternity made up mostly of jocks.
Initiation week they made us attend classes with no shoes or sox.

I'm getting off the track a bit as does happen often.
I think too many drugs in the 60's caused my brain to soften.

A member of my fraternity was a B.C. basketball star;
He was scouted by the pros and it was felt he'd go far.
He was 6 foot 7 and his meals were supersized.
He was my closest friend and I enjoyed looking up at his eyes.

One night in the off season he went drinking at a bar.
He left the joint at 2 A.M. but he didn't get far.
He was found by a sanitation worker early the next morn.
His skull had been bashed in; his massive throat was well-torn.
It was a campus and Boston sensation, a sad one it was true.
I was crushed by his passing and from college I withdrew.

I had lots of money from my grandma; I did not need a job.
I moved to Miami and became a beach bum, not a slob.

Within three years two more murders were added to this story.
The descriptions of the bodies found were EXTREMELY gory.
One, a 6-4 white male prostitute, had been eviscerated.
The police photos of a black female socialite,6-3, were XXX-rated.

My parents lived in Santa Monica and insisted I move home.
I settled in their guest house but at times I still did roam.
I met and dated a wealthy,6-5, fashion model………
The largest piece of her flesh found would fit inside a large bottle.

I started, then to see a shrink; I worried I'd go crazy.
I'm telling you my story's true, though at times details are hazy.
I spent ten years in analysis, which cost a lot of money,
But I believe it helped restore my faith and my outlook was more-sunny.

Then one summer I did Rio Mardi Gras; it was my BEST vacation yet.

But back home I learned my doctor had been found in his red Corvette.
What was left of him, I should say. I hesitate to here linger.

[...] Read more

poem by Bri Edwards
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Holocaust Latvia Begins

Holocaust Latvia begins
on June 22,1941 when
the German army invaded
the Russian Soviet Union;

and the Baltic States
of Lithuania, Latvia,
and Estonia which had
by Soviet military forces;

recently been occupied
after a proud period
of independence after
World War One finished.

Murders of Jews
Communists began
almost immediately
by Einsatzgruppen;

perpetrated by German
killer squads known
as Special Task Groups
Special Assignment Groups;

the German Security Police
Sicherheitspolizei or Sipo
the Security Service of the SS
the Sicherheitsdienst or SD.

The first recorded murders
were on the day after invasion
on the night of June 23,1941
in town of Grobina near Liepāja;

six Jews were killed
in the church cemetery
by Sonderkommando
1a members deployed;

with the 14th Army
Nazi German
Einsatzkommandos
were a sub-group;

of five Einsatzgruppen
mobile killing squads
up to 3,000 men each
composed of 500 to 1000;

[...] Read more

poem by Terence George Craddock
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Lawless World

Streets paved with blood
From the murders and the rapes
of a lawless world

Our governments send the troops
around the world
Fighting not for justice
but for the oil
And anything else
they can call their own

While the murders
and the rapes
rule our streets

poem by Dave Alan Walker
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Fondness Of

He entered from fondness and between the murders,
I know him by name, and his name has weakness of the heart.
I saw him being pulled and he staggered like a hound to hit,
Laughing with gusts of wind, squealing and kicking around.
The murderous slant began hitting me on the mouth,
Decent tests spring from the mind, as murders are discovered.
Asses work like donkeys as well, but the test is complete,
A devilish spitting session is afoot, like a test from above.

poem by Naveed Akram
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Murders By The Life

Murders have been deduced by the life of this planet,
Open lessons have been learnt by the murderers;
Never do space men seek a wish for their life to end,
Intentions are clear, intending is a custom of the crown.

Murders restart the evil of an on setting generation,
My generation speaks all this alarm, my one is an alarm
To go off by degrees, as signals connect to really hurt,
In time the tape is remade to bind the chains.

poem by Naveed Akram
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Macbeth

Macbeth is a great worrier
He never disobey his loyer
He has an evil wife
Those made him have a miserable life

He kills King Duncan in his room
Gust beside his broom
Macbeth started to have a red face
So he toke the king’s place

He tried to kill the king son
In a day where was a sunny sun
He heard best murders that he has
The murders kill his friend but his son escape from them

Macbeth wife die
After his friend son kills him with a pie
Then king son ruled
Macbeth was fooled

poem by Violet Gum Gum
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St Stephens Day Murders

St stephens day murders
(paddy moloney/elvis costello)
I knew of two sisters whose name it was christmas,
And one was named dawn of course, the other one was named eve.
I wonder if they grew up hating the season,
Of the good will that lasts til the feast of st. stephen
For that is the time to eat, drink, and be merry,
til the beer is all spilled and the whiskey has flowed.
And the whole family tree you neglected to bury,
Are feeding their faces until they explode.
Chorus:
Therell be laughter and tears over tia marias,
Mixed up with that drink made from girders.
cause its all weve got left as they draw their last breath,
And its nice for the kids, as you finally get rid of them,
In the st stephens day murders.
Uncle is garglin a heart-breaking air,
While the babe in his arms pulls out all that remains of his hair.
And were not drunk enough yet to dare criticize,
The great big kipper tie hes about to baptize.
His gin-flavoured whiskers and kisses of sherry,
His best crimble shirt slung out over the shop.
While the lights from the christmas tree blow up the telly,
His face closes in like an old cold pork chop.
Alternate chorus:
And the carcass of the beast left over from the feast,
May still be found haunting the kitchen.
And theres life in it yet, we may live to regret,
When the ones that we poisoned stop twitchin.
Regular chorus repeat

song performed by Elvis Costello
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St. Stephen's Day Murders (feat. The Chieftains)

st stephen's day murders
(paddy moloneyelvis costello)
I knew of two sisters whose name it was christmas,
And one was named dawn of course, the other one was named eve.
I wonder if they grew up hating the season,
Of the good will that lasts til the feast of st. stephen
For that is the time to eat, drink, and be merry,
'til the beer is all spilled and the whiskey has flowed.
And the whole family tree you neglected to bury,
Are feeding their faces until they explode.
Chorus:
There'll be laughter and tears over tia marias,
Mixed up with that drink made from girders.
cause it's all we've got left as they draw their last breath,
And it's nice for the kids, as you finally get rid of them,
In the st stephen's day murders.
Uncle is garglin' a heart-breaking air,
While the babe in his arms pulls out all that remains of his hair.
And we're not drunk enough yet to dare criticize,
The great big kipper tie he's about to baptize.
His gin-flavoured whiskers and kisses of sherry,
His best crimble shirt slung out over the shop.
While the lights from the christmas tree blow up the telly,
His face closes in like an old cold pork chop.
Alternate chorus:
And the carcass of the beast left over from the feast,
May still be found haunting the kitchen.
And there's life in it yet, we may live to regret,
When the ones that we poisoned stop twitchin'.
Regular chorus repeat

song performed by Elvis Costello
Added by Lucian Velea
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Gangland

(smith/burr)
Shadows may hide you but also may be your grave
Youre running today maybe tomorrow youll be saved
You pray for daylight to save you for a while
You wonder if your children will face the killers smile
Dead men -- tell no tales
In gangland -- murders up for sale
Dead men -- tell no tales
In gangland -- where jail birds die
Face at the window leers into your own
But its only your reflection still you tremble in your bones
How long can you hide? how long till they come?
A rat in a trap but youve got to survive
Once you were glad to be free for a while
The air tasted good and the world was your friend
Then came the day when the hard times began
Now your alone but alive for how long?
A knife at your throat another body on the pile
A contract to keep and its service with a smile
Murder for vengeance or murder for gain
Death on the streets or a blackened out jail
Dead men -- tell no tales
In gangland -- murders up for sale
Dead men -- tell no tales
In gangland -- where jail birds die
In gangland you tell no tales

song performed by Iron Maiden
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Why Is It?

It makes me angry when I read
how murders, rapists and drug dealers
can be treated like kings;
even the scroungers of our society
are elevated in stature.
Yet our armed forces,
those brave men and women
who go out to battlefields
are frowned upon
and treated with deprivation
by those who send them to war.
They are the last ones to get help,
substandard help at that.
Yet child murders have praise heaped on them,
given new identities
all because they passed a couple of exams.
If you go and fight for your country,
you are treated with scorn
for doing a duty a lot would not do.
Maybe if they refused to go
were would the politicians be.
They would have to enlist
all those they have treated like kings,
the dregs of our society.
Let them go to war with meagre equipment,
let the enemy take their lives
and save us the job
of having to keep them in a kingly fashion.
Of course this will never happen,
only the brave go to fight
while the cowards stay safe at home
and live off what the brave
should be getting and never get.

29 July 2008

poem by David Harris
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Abortion is Outright Murder

You have no right to kill yourself;
You have no right to kill your own;
You have no right to kill others;
No one has right to kill someone.

Abortion kills the babe unborn;
Abortion kills the babe in womb;
Abortion is murder outright;
Abortion’s not anyone’s right!

Parents shouldn’t kill their progeny;
‘Aborting parents’ are killers;
Parents are like terrorists then!
Abortion isn’t doctors’ duty!

Doctors are meant to just save lives;
Doctors can’t abet murders, man;
Health care can’t include abortions!
Health care must only extend life.

Doctors are healers, life-savers;
Parents are rearers, life-carers;
Health care must try to avoid deaths;
Health care shouldn’t lead to murders foul!

Copyright by Dr John Celes 9-17-2009

poem by John Celes
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Stop Abortions, Now!

A billion killed within the womb each year!
Must people kill their kith and kin and dear?
The spattered blood pleads for revenge to God;
Such cruel deaths will invoke God’s just rod!

No excuses can cover up the blot;
Women, beware of this insane a plot;
The distress cries of unborn babes will ring
Throughout your life and woes galore could bring!

Guilty are makers of this policy!
The procurers can’t mask their idiocy!
The leaders can’t escape their major role
Of murders in the womb, loss of each soul!

Condemn the barbaric methods in vogue;
Such killers aren’t better than any rogue;
If taking lives is part of ‘good health care’,
Then deaths from Nature’s furies are but fair!

Are unborn babies ‘lambs’ of sacrifice?
Is womb-killing a virtue then, not vice?
Each life within the womb was made by God;
No human being dare challenge the Lord!

The murders foul will bring down curses great;
Then sufferings on earth will not abate;
Abortions can’t curtail the people’s growth;
More things are wrought by prayers and good faith!

Why kill your own in ruthless, heinous ways?
Why buy the wrath of God in your earth-days?
‘Accept the ways of Nature’, Maker says;
Obey God’s codes to fill your soul with grace!

'Abortions, the Blot in Modern Health Care Delivery'

Copyright by Dr John Celes 10-31-2009

poem by John Celes
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Metamorphoses: Book The First

OF bodies chang'd to various forms, I sing:
Ye Gods, from whom these miracles did spring,
Inspire my numbers with coelestial heat;
'Till I my long laborious work compleat:
And add perpetual tenour to my rhimes,
Deduc'd from Nature's birth, to Caesar's times.
The Creation of Before the seas, and this terrestrial ball,
the World And Heav'n's high canopy, that covers all,
One was the face of Nature; if a face:
Rather a rude and indigested mass:
A lifeless lump, unfashion'd, and unfram'd,
Of jarring seeds; and justly Chaos nam'd.
No sun was lighted up, the world to view;
No moon did yet her blunted horns renew:
Nor yet was Earth suspended in the sky,
Nor pois'd, did on her own foundations lye:
Nor seas about the shores their arms had thrown;
But earth, and air, and water, were in one.
Thus air was void of light, and earth unstable,
And water's dark abyss unnavigable.
No certain form on any was imprest;
All were confus'd, and each disturb'd the rest.
For hot and cold were in one body fixt;
And soft with hard, and light with heavy mixt.
But God, or Nature, while they thus contend,
To these intestine discords put an end:
Then earth from air, and seas from earth were
driv'n,
And grosser air sunk from aetherial Heav'n.
Thus disembroil'd, they take their proper place;
The next of kin, contiguously embrace;
And foes are sunder'd, by a larger space.
The force of fire ascended first on high,
And took its dwelling in the vaulted sky:
Then air succeeds, in lightness next to fire;
Whose atoms from unactive earth retire.
Earth sinks beneath, and draws a num'rous throng
Of pondrous, thick, unwieldy seeds along.
About her coasts, unruly waters roar;
And rising, on a ridge, insult the shore.
Thus when the God, whatever God was he,
Had form'd the whole, and made the parts agree,
That no unequal portions might be found,
He moulded Earth into a spacious round:
Then with a breath, he gave the winds to blow;
And bad the congregated waters flow.
He adds the running springs, and standing lakes;
And bounding banks for winding rivers makes.
Some part, in Earth are swallow'd up, the most
In ample oceans, disembogu'd, are lost.

[...] Read more

poem by Ovid
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Root Out Corruption

We heaved a little sigh
When Indian tri color rose high
It was free air for us to breathe
Entire world was happy and eager with

We won the independence with great struggle
Even though challenges stayed ahead with troubles
Our forefathers visualized India as great and tolerant giant
A truly democratic, peace loving and non defiant

We were like infant in new world
Committed to peace and no part in cold era
Joining world forums for stable and peaceful atmosphere
Where world can live in harmony and peace without fear

Soon we tested the money power
The power was passed in the hands of fewer
It has become game and now total shameless show
World is strangulated and forced to withdraw

Had those leaders been alive today?
They should have wept and thrown the power away
Was this the dream they wanted to realize?
Scoundrels and murders were meant to oblige

The corruption is at its peak
The politicians have captured it with stick
The money is poured in to realize the power
The constitution is subverted to benefit the fewer

National wealth is pushed outside country
The poor nation is at the mercy of almighty
Not millions but billions are siphoned
Illiterate and mafias have totally cloned

It is new breed and now coming on scene
The murderers and gang rapists are freely seen
Not a single work is done without favor
Whole political system needs one tremor

What do we do then to counter such move?
How can we unite and forcibly remove?
Whether to face the game of ballots or bullets?
How can we simply witness such corruption or forget?

Years have gone off after becoming republic
Adding more and more sufferings for poor public
No grains and no food for two square meals
How much loss is reported or revealed?

[...] Read more

poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Mysteries

All last night I kept speaking in this
archaic language, because I had been reading
Poe and thinking about him. I read 'The Murders
in the Rue Morgue' which is supposedly the first
detective story. Who dun it? I wondered.
It turns out an orangutan was the murderer.
It looks to me like the detective story genre got off
to a pretty ridiculous start. I used to visit
Poe's house in the Bronx. I used to think,
God, Poe must have been a midget. Everything
is so small. Poe died in Baltimore and I can see why.
In Baltimore, all the people are very big and sincere.
During dinner last night, I told Doug and Susan
about 'Murders in the Rue Morgue.' I said I hadn't
finished it yet, but it looked like the murderer
was going to turn out to be an orangutan, unless
the plot took a surprising new twist. Then Doug
suggested that he and I collaborate
on a series of detective stories in which
the murderer is always an orangutan.

[from The Great Indoors, Story Line Press, 1995]
http://www.terencewinch.com

poem by Terence Winch
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Mental Cases

Who are these? Why sit they here in twilight?
Wherefore rock they, purgatorial shadows,
Drooping tongues from jays that slob their relish,
Baring teeth that leer like skulls' teeth wicked?
Stroke on stroke of pain,- but what slow panic,
Gouged these chasms round their fretted sockets?
Ever from their hair and through their hands' palms
Misery swelters. Surely we have perished
Sleeping, and walk hell; but who these hellish?

-These are men whose minds the Dead have ravished.
Memory fingers in their hair of murders,
Multitudinous murders they once witnessed.
Wading sloughs of flesh these helpless wander,
Treading blood from lungs that had loved laughter.
Always they must see these things and hear them,
Batter of guns and shatter of flying muscles,
Carnage incomparable, and human squander
Rucked too thick for these men's extrication.

Therefore still their eyeballs shrink tormented
Back into their brains, because on their sense
Sunlight seems a blood-smear; night comes blood-black;
Dawn breaks open like a wound that bleeds afresh.
-Thus their heads wear this hilarious, hideous,
Awful falseness of set-smiling corpses.
-Thus their hands are plucking at each other;
Picking at the rope-knouts of their scourging;
Snatching after us who smote them, brother,
Pawing us who dealt them war and madness.

poem by Wilfred Owen
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