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Posts Tagged ‘murder’

mtJN2xi

There was a young lady who lived in a shoe;
She kept having children but knew what to do.
“I’ll kill them,” she said. “They’re better off dead.”
And she blamed all her murder on YOU.

She poisoned the first one; she killed it with salt.
Friends cheered for that woman; it wasn’t her fault.
Her boyfriend left her as soon as he knew –
“I got what I wanted. Now, lady, we’re through.”

The baby was burned and was red from the fire
But she didn’t see it and didn’t inquire.
She went on with living, no thought for the dead;           
The choice was hers, that’s what everyone said.

There was a young lady who lived in a shoe;
She charmed a new partner and bred number two.
I don’t want a child when I’m young and I’m single
I party a lot and I mix and I mingle.

She waited a while and she took a short hike
And found a good hit man to kill the new tyke.
They talked about killing, just how it’d be done.
They hit on dismemberment – that was the one!

My baby, my choice! was her battle cry
Let’s focus on that, and not that they die.
And while it was living, doc tore limb from limb
First arms, then the legs – that her or that him.

There was a young lady who lived in a shoe
She’d killed her two babies, but she wasn’t through
She’d made herself free to get on with her life
No babies would stop her, though single or wife

‘Cause she was a climber, as good as the men!
But then she got pregnant, not one blob but twin.
Oh, double the parasite, double the attack
She fell in a rage that her life was set back.

This time she’d try vacuum, yes that was the way!
She waited a bit until just the right day
And huge was the suction and tiny the tots
And when she was through there were small bloody spots.

Full half of the people thought she was just fine,
And helped her to murder repeating her line:
We can’t hold her back – SHE’S GOT LIVING TO DO!
Full half of them helped her, but what about you?

That wonderful lady who lived in a shoe
Decided that college was not for the few
Rights equal for women! On, up to the top!
Not one thing would hinder, not one thing would stop

Her living her life in her own special way
Except – she got pregnant. Which man? Couldn’t say.
She knew that, on her part, not one sacrifice!
The child that she carried would just pay the price.

And how would she get this new child off her back?
She settled this fourth time on a heart attack.
And so the death needle was plunged in its heart
Exploding the heart so the child would depart.

There are some young ladies who live in a shoe
And copulate freely – yes, that’s what they do.
Then faced with the consequence, they will not pay
But search for a hit man who will their child slay.

You think that barbaric? Then you would be right
Our nation has made this the unborn child’s plight.
MY body! MY choice! I’ll kill if I please!
And many are evil in greatest degrees.

But how about you? Is there left any good
That’s still in your heart to do what you should
To campaign forever ‘till this plague is o’er
And slaughter as Nazis is found here no more?

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photo by Gabriella Fabbri at
https://www.rgbstock.com/photo/mtJN2xi/Waiting+a+baby

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© Dennis Allen Lange, 2019.

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preg woman and child

The sky above is virgin blue;
The breeze has summer’s breath.
The course of Nature’s staying true:
First life, then later, death. 

The children run and laugh and play;
Their adults stand and look,
A little back to miss the spray
The water fountains brook. 

And in their lot’s a sacrifice
That some for others make
Instead of selfishness like ice
Upon a frozen lake. 

The care, concern, is Nature’s course
And not the centeredness
When some because their hearts are coarse
For little lives care less.

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© Dennis Allen Lange, 2019.

 

 

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meSDQ0O

The future of the land seems dark and bleak.
We kill the unborn child, the blameless.
We’ve crimson hands but not the crimson cheek. 

Position, power, self are what we seek.
The unborn are not wanted, nameless.
The future of the land seems dark and bleak. 

They are the helpless, weakest of the meek.
We’re Hitlers; they’re the Jews and claimless.
We’ve crimson hands but not the crimson cheek. 

Ones act by millions; millions for them speak.
The murder streak is wide and tameless.
The future of the land seems dark and bleak. 

We’re rootless, superficial, shallow, weak.
We’ve turned from God and so our lives are aimless.
We’ve crimson hands but not the crimson cheek. 

Our sins have ris’n to God and heav’n and reek.
We flaunt it to His face; we’re shameless.
The future of the land seems dark and bleak.
We’ve crimson hands but not the crimson cheek.

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photo by Constantin Jurcut at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/meSDQ0O/burning+3

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© Dennis Allen Lange, 2019.

 

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(In the U.S. 60,000,000 unborn babies have been murdered by abortion since 1973.)

I say you have the Nazi mind,
And in that I am not unkind.
‘Tis you with baby butcher knives
Who sanction doctors taking lives.

You think that women get to choose
If they should kill their baby Jews.
To you it matters not the why –
That selfishness will make them die.

Why can’t you see the wicked swing
Twixt mothering and murdering?
How hardened is your concrete heart
That in the slaughter you take part!

I say you have the Nazi mind,
And in that I am not unkind.
I’m sure your friends think you’re quite swell
But murderers will go to hell.

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© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2018.

 

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aborted baby

(thoughts of the one who supports abortion murder)

None else should on another body bind.
Don’t take from women their nice right to choose.
I have a noble mind and think that kind.

It’s not for me. But with them I’m aligned.
It is her body save for that she’ll bruise.
None else should on another body bind.

A woman’s life should not be so confined
That what she wants for self she then would lose.
I have a noble mind and think that kind.

My sense of right and wrong is not assigned
To those bent on assigning death’s dark hues.
None else should on another body bind.

Her life, if not, would be a horrid grind.
So rip and tear the little baby shoes.
I have a noble mind and think that kind.

To all except the woman, I am blind
To think of other lives would just confuse.
None else should on another body bind.
I have a noble mind and think I’m kind.

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© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2018.

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pregnant silhouette

Herr Hitler led the Nazis
To kill six million Jews.
Ukraine was starved by Stalin;
The Times left out that news. 

And Mao? Forty million.
And Leopold just ten.
And Tojo’s tiny numbers
Of five are really thin. 

Gas chambers and the Gulag,
The farms raped of their yields,
Were killing rooms for devils
Like Pol Pot’s killing fields. 

More than did all the monsters
Kill in their bloody quests
Have we in America
Killed while still in their nests. 

Our count? Now sixty million.
And what’s our killing room?
We kill them in their nurs’ry:
We kill them in the womb.

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© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2018.

 

 

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oosHgt2

(A liberal group is collecting money for Hurricane Harvey
victims to have abortions.)

 

Those thinking they’re wise are but fools,
And worse than mere killers – they’re ghouls.
In wake of the storm,
Intent on more harm,
For abortions they’d furnish the tools.

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photo by Elvis Santana at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/oosHgt2/clouds+1

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© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2017.

 

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quantrill

When William Quantrill, in the Civil War,
Led his gray troops, like swarming ants, in raid
On Lawrence, citizens died by the score –
Unarmed.  A battle, or just vengeance paid?

John Morgan, likewise, was a Southern pride;
But to the North, his acts were piracy.
His men would conquer, taking all they spied –
An army’s pillaging?  Or robbery?

The line between an army waging war
And scoundrels, murderers, and common thieves;
Between a wicked gang and army corps
Is thinner than a person oft believes.

To see this truth is but to know the names:
With Quantrill rode both Frank and Jesse James.

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The picture is of William Quantrill.

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https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Quantrill%27s_Raiders

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© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2017.

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mgynpso


Nakusa is Hindi for “unwanted”, a name given to
many unwanted girls in India.  See the article link
below the poem.

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In ancient Rome, the babies were exposed
To all the elements and left to die
When their existence was by men opposed
And hardened hearts heard not their tiny cry.

Today, we wear smooth silk, don sweet perfume,
Refined in all we do, quite civilized.
Expose them? No! They have another doom:
We cut their spinal cords – murder reprised.

In name or deed, we say, “Unwanted child!”
Our self, not you, is what is highly prized.
The old and new have hearts by hate defiled.
But we’re far better – we are civilized!

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The unwanted girls of India change their names:
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/44998378/ns/world_news-wonderful_world/?gt1=43001

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photo by sanja gjenero at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/mgynPSO/garbage+bin+3

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© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2016.

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orjjjn2

Don’t insult poor Hillary or Bill;
The rumor’s they don’t wait to kill.
If they cut your throat,
They’ll still get your vote –
The dead vote for Demos is real.
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http://www.washingtonexaminer.com/article/2602775

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photo by Michal Zacharzewski at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/orjJjN2/American+Graveyard

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© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2016.

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