"Many and sharp the num'rous ills
Inwoven with our frame!
More pointed still we make ourselves,
Regret, remorse, and shame!
And man, whose heav'n-erected face
The smiles of love adorn, -
Man's inhumanity to man
Makes countless thousands mourn!

--From "Man Was Made To Mourn: A Dirge", Robert Burns

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Yay, Limericks!
/makes popcorn.. waits...

LET us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherised upon a table;
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
The muttering retreats 5
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels
And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
Of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming question ... 10
Oh, do not ask, "What is it?"
Let us go and make our visit.

Damn, that guy stabbed me!

The local police said 'we're on it'
After a bloody and brutal gang hit
The perp got away
For several long days
But was busted because of a sonnet

/got nuthin'

JohnnyontheSpot: LET us go then, you and I,

"The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" never sounded so good.

'My baby takes the mornin train
she works from nine 'til five
and then she takes another home

AutumnSong: "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" never sounded so good.

I was trying to think of a poem about crime, but the most beautiful description of going clubbing is much better.

Oh freddled gruntbuggly,
Thy micturations are to me
As plurdled gabbleblotchits
On a lurgid bee.
Groop, I implore thee, my foonting turlingdromes
And hooptiously drangle me
With crinkly bindlewurdles,
Or I will rend thee in the gobberwarts with my blurglecruncheon,
See if I don't!

Lights, flashing at night
A shadow flees; footfalls chase
Another crime stopped.

/didn't work

When Polly's in trouble,
I am not slow!
It's hip, hip, hip,
and away I go!

I wandered lonely as a cloud
which is pretty farking stupid because clouds don't have legs and are subject to prevailing air currents.

"Bring out the poet!"
"You're going to get it now!"

"I confess!"

/CRock FTW!

Yeah. Next time go to a police station and give a statement, you douchenozzle. A man is dead and you're consulting a rhyming dictionary? I think they killed the wrong person.

Fear the words Be..otch.
Fear the words.

Yeah. Next time go to a police station and give a statement, you douchenozzle. A man is dead and you're consulting a rhyming dictionary? I think they killed the wrong person.
Reading TFA, I got the impression that all the potential witnesses had been threatened into silence. Walking into a police station and making a statement is not very anonymous, and would probably get him killed by his homies.

So that leaves anonymous drops of a written statement. And poetry, as well as being awesome, will disguise the writing habits of the witness; common idioms and styles they'd use without thinking about if they were writing a regular letter, that could be traced back to them.

Edith Bunker knew this a long time ago.

I thought the poetry was going to be used by the cops.

Then I could have used this:


and said: "nothing new under the sun"

/thunder stolen once again
//would haiku work on misdemeanors?

The rhyming informer his message had honed
Expecting the suspect would get by cops pwned
And as the coppers in on the cad homed
The killer was heard to cry "fark! I've been pwmed"

What do you think you're doing, pig?
Do you really give a fig, pig?
And what's your favorite sort of gig, pig?
Barry Manilow?
Or the black and white minstrel show?

Dark and lonely on a summer's night
Kill my landlord
Kill my landlord
Watchdog barking
Do he bite?
Kill my landlord
Kill my landlord
Slip in his window
Break his neck
Then his house
I start to wreck
Got no reason
What the heck
Kill my Landlord
Kill my landlord
C-I-L-L
my l a n d l o r d

-- Tyrone Greene

/first thing I thought of

I'm surprised it wasn't rap

/Coppa gonna feel yo collar
//Fiddycent half one Yankee dollar
///Lotta strainin' and huffin'
////Yo, Bro, I still gut nuthin'

I smell a ripped from the headlines Cop Rock episode a-comin'.

Don't rob cars,
It's mad
It's bad.
Think of your ma's
It would make them sad.

/10 points for anyone who can name the reference.

mister aj
Reading TFA, I got the impression that all the potential witnesses had been threatened into silence. Walking into a police station and making a statement is not very anonymous, and would probably get him killed by his homies.

Maybe it's just me, but I find it rather difficult to convince myself that any guy with "homies" is going to be capable of producing any rhyming verse beyond "Yo, check dis out... DJ spin dat shiat!"

My urge to kill usually rises in the presence of poetry.

Knew the facist pigs would catch on to his game...

Poetic Justice?

Our chief weapon is surpise. Surprise and fear.

/ Nobody expects...

German WWII monty python joke in 3...2...1...

Hail, Poetry, thou heav'n-born maid!
Thou gildest e'en the pirate's trade.
Hail, flowing fount of sentiment!
All hail! All hail! Divine emollient!
/I bet no one knows where this is from

Pirates of Penzance, jdcproskater3.

/Was once the very model of a modern Major General.
//Knew information vegetable, animal, and mineral.
///I knew the kings of England, and quoted the fights historical.
////From Marathon to Waterloo in order categorical.