London...
Many women calling to me,
Their lush breasts, firm bodies,
Longing for me to penetrate them,
With my knife.
Police dumbfounded,
I laugh and wait,
A beautiful girl, a rainy night,
I bring my knife up and slam it in,
Sweet coppery blood boiling 'round my wrists.
She dies...
Just a notch in my bedpost,
I am, Jack the Ripper.
A contest entry
- Dead Poet's Society (the awakening) by Dark Otter.
1000 points, ended July 23, 2008, 14 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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this is what I'm talking about!
Now, Jack the Ripper is my kind of guy. Just bad to the bone. If you had gone deeper and more descriptive, I might've considered it as trophy material. Darkness lies in the hearts of all men. You must speak in that voice. Some thought he was a surgeon by his M.O. If you had brought his surroundings, victims, and inner thoughts to life in their most gory details it could've blown my socks off. But, still thank you for another heartwarming story to make my contest what it is. Thank you!
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Eeeeppp
A chilling reenactment of Jack the Ripper here... spooky.. but cool
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"A beautiful girl, a rainy night..."
Is it time for me to slam the knife in?
Just kidding...thanx for reading! -
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lol
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