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Night Owl Poetry – Dorinda Duclos

~ "The silence of the night awakens my soul"

Night Owl Poetry – Dorinda Duclos

Tag Archives: murder

The Near-Perfect Crime ~ #poetry #DecemberWriting

18 Tuesday Dec 2018

Posted by Dorinda Duclos in December Writing, Poems, Poetry

≈ 13 Comments

Tags

#DecemberWriting, #shortstory, blade, blood, dorindaduclos.com, knife, murder, Night Owl Poetry, perfect murder, writing, writing prompt


The night seemed colder, as the day grew older

Had he been planning his revenge all this time?

Feeling a bit unsteady, unsure if he was ready

Still, he knew he had planned the perfect crime

Over by the door, hearing footsteps on the floor

Finally, she came home, from her day at work

A long awaited moment, a kiss, was his bestowment

And that’s when everything went quite berserk

He never saw the blade, seems he had been played

She turned the tables, on his own deadly scheme

Beads of sweat, replaced by blood, he landed with a thud

As she walked away, she smiled, with an evil gleam

 

December Writing Prompt – Droplets of sweat fell to his lap as the blade glistened – Day 18/31

©2018 Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
Photo via Pixabay CC0

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The Mystery of Milmonyville – #poetry #SeptemberWriting

13 Thursday Sep 2018

Posted by Dorinda Duclos in Poems, Poetry, September Writing

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

#poetry, #SeptemberWriting, dead, dorindaduclos.com, dread, fog, murder, mystery, Night Owl Poetry, poems, screams, writing, writing prompt


Hidden in the fog, with the morning light

Maniacal mysteries, and terrible frights

No people to see, at least no one living

Milmonyville, was a place, unforgiving

Tragic tales, of murder, filled the town

Claiming the men, who didn’t back down

Nefarious carrying on, in the streets

You best run now, go on, use your feet

Hightail it out, of the land filled with dread

But be careful where you step…

*

*

Or you could wind up dead.

 

September Writing Prompt – The mystery of Milmonyville – Day 13/30

©2018 Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
Photo via Pixabay CC0

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Easy Street ~ #poetry #AugustWriting

21 Tuesday Aug 2018

Posted by Dorinda Duclos in August Writing, Poems, Poetry

≈ 13 Comments

Tags

#AugustWriting, #poetry, alibis, dorindaduclos.com, easy street, family, memoir, mob boss, money, murder, Night Owl Poetry, poems, secret, writing, writing prompt


So many people would visit
Men, dressed in suits and ties
Daddy would always be there
I learned later, they were alibis

Plenty of money to go around
We had everything under the sun
A beautiful home, cars to match
Daddy would never be outdone

Mama never questioned why
His meetings, were behind a closed door
I’m not really sure she understood
What it meant, to be in a mob war

Both of us were oblivious to it
Daddy never let on, not at all
But eventually, we found out the secret
It was the beginning of our downfall

Mama wound up in the psych ward
She remained there until she died
I wound up in psychotherapy
It seemed like a good place to hide

They found my body, on Christmas Eve
I no longer needed to be discreet
Still, no one knows who murdered me
So much for a life, lived on easy street

 

Author’s Note:  This poem is loosely based on a memoir written by Susan Berman, about her father, titled “Easy Street: The True Story of a Mob Family”.  In what remains an unsolved crime, Berman was murdered in her home and her body discovered on Christmas Eve day 2000.

August Writing Prompt – Easy street – Day 21/31

©2018 Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
Photo via Pixabay CC0

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Friends Don’t Lie ~ #AprilWriting #fiction

24 Tuesday Apr 2018

Posted by Dorinda Duclos in April Writing, Fiction, Poems, Poetry

≈ 34 Comments

Tags

#AprilWriting, #shortstory, #writingprompt, bully, Bullying, death, dorindaduclos.com, Fiction, friends, grave, haystack, lies, lying, murder, Night Owl Poetry, revenge, secrets, writing


Friends don’t lie. Oh, but they do, about everything. Even the secrets you tell them not to tell, they run as fast as they can to tell everyone. Everyone, except me. I was the quiet one, the one you could actually tell a secret to, and not have to worry. I promised you I would go to my grave with them. And that’s exactly what I did.

It was 1939. School was out for the summer, and the children in the neighborhood gathered together for some games. One boy, we’ll call him James, was always the bully. He made sure the smaller kids ran away. He said he didn’t want any babies playing with him. I was one of those babies. But I never ran. I think he admired me for that. I stood up to him. But on this particular day, he fought back. Chasing me around the old farmer’s plantation, screaming and cursing at me, I continued to run around in circles. He couldn’t find me. I had hidden myself behind a haystack. Finally giving up, he ran back to the others.

I couldn’t see them but I could hear them. They were laughing. I didn’t know at what, but I found out soon enough. James made up lies about me. He said I was really a girl and he made me show him my girl parts, and made me do disgusting things with him. I’m not a girl, and I never showed or did anything. How could he spread lies about me this way? And then my whole world crumbled.

I overheard Danny telling them a story about me, one he’d promised me he’d never tell. I could feel my face redden and was grateful no one could see me behind this mound of hay. I thought Danny was my best friend. A year older than I was, he usually protected me from being bullied. I was the smallest of the group, not yet dealing with a growth spurt. And my voice squeaked from time to time. It made me a target, especially for James. Something very different happened on this day. Danny was laughing with all of them. He wasn’t defending me, he was ridiculing me. How did I know? I knew his voice better than I knew my own. I slowly came out from behind the haystack and stood there, waiting for them to see me, waiting for Danny to tell me it was all joke.

When they realized I was standing there, they ran at me, like a wild pack of wolves, hungry for their prey. I didn’t move. To be honest, I was scared to death. I let them tackle me, pound me into the ground, until the light faded and I no longer heard them. I can only imagine they left me there, just walked away. I wanted to know if Danny went with them, or if he stayed to make sure I was okay. But I wasn’t okay. I heard the sirens, and felt a rush of hands lifting me onto a gurney, pushing against me, and I could hear them, calling my name. I answered, but they didn’t hear me.

I never awakened that day. I’m just a lost soul, wandering, waiting to find my entrance into the hereafter. No one knew what really happened to me. The group of boys who killed me, walked away without even a slap on the hand. Why, you might ask? Because no one ever found out who did it. When the police questioned them, they lied. They blamed it on old farmer Bob. After all, I was on his land, and no one was allowed to trespass without consequence.

So, you see, I went to my grave with a very big secret. But my time here on Earth wasn’t finished. I was only 12 years old. I still had much to do. And so I kept myself hidden behind that old stack of hay, waiting, watching, and patiently plotting the perfect time for my revenge.  I wasn’t in a hurry.  I had all the time in the world…

 

April Writing Prompt:  Friends Don’t Lie – Day 24/30

©2018 Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
Photo via Pixabay CC0

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Unimpressed ~ #poetry

10 Saturday Feb 2018

Posted by Dorinda Duclos in Poems, Poetry

≈ 9 Comments

Tags

#poetry, dorindaduclos.com, drinks, Jack, Jill, lovers, murder, Night Owl Poetry, party, poems, Rendezvous, revenge, sex, trouble, writing


He walks around, drink in his hand
Jack in his glass, Jill by his side
Likes to make people think he’s the man
Nobody notices, he takes it in stride

Armani tux, bow tie, overdressed
Seems money’s no object, a toy
She wore Versace, no one’s impressed
Still played her part, being coy

A boring affair is never that good
Makes minds start to wander and stare
Across the room, she tipped her glass
Jack smiled, the devil beware

She broke away, to powder her nose
He caught her eye, with a glance
Jill knew something was terribly wrong
He knew, he was taking a chance

Told her he needed another
Left Jill standing there, alone
Watched as he went in another direction
‘Twas then that her heart turned to stone

Tried to secretly meet in the hallway
Too late, they got caught in the act
Jack tried to plead for both of their lives
But Jill didn’t care, that’s a fact

Two shots rang out, she didn’t miss
Their bodies lie dead on the floor
Arrested for murder, gun in her hand
Said she just couldn’t take anymore

 

©2018 Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
Photo via Pixabay CC0

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