Posts Tagged ‘Crime’

Monsters are real,
Oh yes indeed,
They walk every street,
Every boulevard,
They hide in plain sight,
They are you and me,
I hear hissing and slavering,
In my ears and on radio waves,
Bound to criminal urges,
Committing crimes to live,
Monsters in all but name,

Stabbing you in the back,
Just for a crumb of feed,
Throttling you pale,
For the pure thrill of it,
Clubbing your skull,
For the loose change in your pocket,
Burning you to sorry ashes,
For they covet the heart you love,
Monsters are very real,
And it’s true what they say,
The worst monsters are human.

A smash,
A glass siren into the night,
The reposed hovel is breached,
Something has slivered in through the chasm,
Something in a balaclava,
A knitted visage of ill intent,

The dark shape haunts the sleeping home,
Possessed of a crowbar conviction,
Studious in its search for pearls and trinkets,
Trespasser tentacles in every nook,
This monster is out of its habitat,
Timidly whispering in tongues,

You deign to catch it red-handed,
A monster hunter in your pyjamas,
A strike is readied,
This is no creature,
Within that woollen mask is a man,
Cold eyes full of panic,

Blue eyes of a desperate man.

There was a young woman,
Red hair and a love of photos,
A young woman not quite right inside,
Led astray through foul circumstance,
Wallace was a bad guy,
Rifles for birthday gifts,
A hint from a sire in some lights,
She didn’t like Mondays,

Some new friends outside,
Not that they know it yet,
So load the cartridges,
Some Ruger fireworks to perk up the day,
Light up some innocent bodies,
Some school uniform party poppers,
Juice on the pavement,
Let’s all scream for Monday.

He needed a party,
They said no,
Patriarch and matriarch,
A dagger to his heart,

They would rebuff him,
Deny him the chemicals,
Deny him the guys and gals,
Deny him the night of his life,

Peer pressure addicted,
Like so many needles in the brain,
He knew how to ensure his party hat,
There was only one way,

Again they screamed no,
But the hammer fell,
And confetti erupted,
The party was on.

Groups of people are ships,
Ironclad vessels built upon hulls of teamwork,
Did you know this?
Families and friendships and workforces,
They are crewmates on the same deck,
Sailing the same course,
To the same destination or goal,
Led by a captain of respect,
A person of veneration,
The rigging to the crews sails,

But humans are a fickle bunch,
Some souls have mutiny in their hearts,
They wish to hold the top spot,
So they drill holes in the hull,
Cut free the lifeboats,
And sabotage the rudder,
A rat-king prowling amongst the crew,
Pity this fool,
Who would sink the entire vessel,
Purely because they can’t be the captain.

His monitor accomplice lights up,
Another has fallen for it,
He smirks,
This is a profitable day,
The numbers rise,
Binary and currency,

He is a shady parasite of cybercrime,
His ploy was successful once more,
These marks are putty in his digital hands,
Another gig,
Another scam,
Phishing banditry and hacker hold-ups,

They are cattle,
They do not matter,
They’re just emails and profile faces,
He cares naught for their numbers of years,
Only for the ones and noughts they possess,
The lifeblood in their wallets,

Feelings are left on the keyboard,
Your savings depart into bytes,
As his virtual persona has already fled cackling,
Out of jurisdiction and danger,
He’s a ghost preying on the web,
With his runaway car always at hand.

Amongst these brick and mortar cattle runs,
Ofttimes there are cries,
At increasing intervals,
Blood and missing teeth have become currency,
Knives no longer endangered beasts,
As violence takes the asphalt stage,

Under grey weeping skies,
There are hooded souls cooped up too long,
Compelled towards a kind of gang lunacy,
Closed fists encouraged by closed doors,
Frustration morphed into crime,
Assault piled atop assault,

It wasn’t always this way,
These sidewalks were once humble and pristine,
A virus has begotten further illness,
Sickness of the mind,
And the asphalt bears the evidence,
Red and running outward.

As you close the heavy tavern door,
I see your eyes widen in anxiety,
To see a motley band with steins held high,
In this beer-soaked spectacle,
Lives a bond of camaraderie,
Hardened by bruises and lost limbs,
Tempered in heist after scuffle after ruckus,

Personages of every fantastical race,
Thieves with honour,
Elves and orcs and men,
Dwarves and goblins,
Sharing pains,
Sharing scars,
Sharing losses,

This guild of grizzled veterans,
Decades in the making,
With myriad feats under each of their belts,
Feathers in caps and coins in pouches,
Not above the law but circumventing its eyes,
You bash down a bag of platinum and gold upon the bar,
You remember why you came to this den of reputed scum,

To steal from the rich,
And have some final breathes taken.

I’m trying to hide,
Though this wardrobe be a paltry citadel,
Subsequent to this ambush on a frigid moonlight night,
A gathering reduced to a bloodbath,
Human bodies hewed to mulch by terrible implement,
I know that blade thirsts for more,
Insatiably it took my friends,
I still hear the drips,

He’s coming,
A hell sent juggernaut,
A boiler suit rendered crimson by lives cut short,
And that mask,
Oh lord that mask,
The face of a shinigami,
Bound by wire and bone,
A crooked grin with iron teeth,

I’m trying to hide,
But my gasping and perspiration scream out my location,
Those wooden stairs are a countdown,
Each foreboding step a stopwatch counting down,
A boot upon the landing is a deathknell,
The doors to my harborage shrill open,
That awful mask appears from the opacity,
That dripping brand of gore is raised,

Time stops.

So slugger,
Let me tell you of a lucrative racket,
Out there on the asphalt veins of the big apple,
There’s bucks to be pryed,
By a Dick or Jane with the smarts,
Who’ll play nice with the cosa nostra,
That nation within a nation,
That faction without the strangling law,

So tip your fedora knowingly,
Spark up a havana,
Follow the familys rules,
Lawlessness does indeed beget violence,
But it also begets grand profit,
The clattering of the pigs irons and chains,
Will be answered by the roaring of tommy fire,
And the law may catch a bullet or eight.