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Scottish Beans...

Now in Scotland there’s a legend
of a family; name of Bean
Cannibals they were
a clan of robbers and real mean

‘Twas a distant cousin; passed
that left him all of these
A cache of notes for cooking
secret family recipes

Killer stands there at the station
the rail-coach pulls away
One lone figure stands in shadow
Silhouette in fading day

Come with me, my cousin
The light is fading fast
We’ve a ways to go
while the daylight lasts

The path lead toward the seashore
They climbed down, the cliff a ways
Entrance to a cavern
revealed by sunset’s rays

A secret clan revival
from every foreign shore
There were a hundred people
maybe even more

Introduced to most of clan
handshaking all around
Patrick; head of family says;
So glad, that you’ve been found

Let’s get ourselves all ready
A hunt for meat has been arranged
The village bully is the target
they say he is deranged

We need some brawn to make the catch
If in fact it’s true
You look as though you’re our man
I think that you will do

Killer said he would be honored
He left with Uncles Jim and Joe
They knew the village well
so they had to go

Now the township was all quiet
‘Cept the tavern on the green
They heard the yells of terror
The bully Brian, drunk and mean

Small and timid Francis
was up against the wall
Brian had him by the neck
so he wouldn’t fall

Buy me another drink
you stupid little snot
Or I’ll change your fucking face
show you what I got

Killer’s hand was on his shoulder
the other on his wrist
He said; Just let him go
as he gave a little twist

Brian’s face lit up
like a lantern bright
Oh joy! He said, oh joy
Here’s someone wants to fight!

Twisting wrists were warring
shiny blades came out and played
A dance of death was stepped
knives of steel were waved

Straining, sweating muscles
pools of blood upon the floor
They embraced each other
pushing, shoving toward the door

Into dark, they went with curses
out in the yard they fell
Then back inside, they came
like demons out of hell

Killer felt the man was shaken
Never had a fight like this
Gave a final heave of strength
delivered Bowie’s kiss

A stream of bloody-red,
tracked from scrotum to the chin
Through clothes and leather belt
deep into toughened skin

Brian’s body shuddered
threw up hands with knuckles skinned
His legs jerked out from under
eyes widened, then they dimmed

A low and throaty breath
sighs out from in his chest
Blood bubbles darkly red
from it’s pumping nest

The village dark as they pass
shutters closed against the night
No one missing bully Brian
the clan moves out of sight

Back at the caverns by the sea
in the cliffs, the fires burning
White beans and water simmer
There’s spits for roasting, turning

Shanks of leg, being barbecued
in sauce that’s hot and sweet
Worstershire and garlic
brown sugar on the meat

A little bit of onion, chopped
tomatos and some salt
Bourbon and cayenne
You don’t like it; not my fault

Scraps of meat between the cuts
Fat and marrow too
Celery, carrots and ‘taters
go in a soupy stew

‘Shrooms and onions diced
Chopped parsely and some Thyme
Rosemary’s spice and pepper
A cup of cooking-wine

The recipes of three-hundred years
were passed on and tasted too
There were sausage meat-pies hot
Barley in the stew

Music from different countries
dancing ‘round the fire
Young love retiring early
Elders filled with new desire

A feast of another bad-guy
well deserved, his fate
And he had all the honor
he was on everybody’s plate

Style / type: 
Structured: Western
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Last few words: 
Killer's visit to Scotland turned out well. He met a lot of relatives and gained a couple of pounds! Not sure of where to go next, but someplace warmer than Scotland!
Editing stage: 

Comments

What with this and Dracula at Whitby.
I have re enforced my Dark room
in case he visits here soon.
With Garlic hidden in the walls
But this is what gets in my craw
There is no stopping that killer man
So I shall run as fast as I can
Or put a motor in my Zimmer frame
Some distance from him gain, Lol
Grand write we should have tightened up on immigrants way before this.
Yours Ian.T a frightened little Sparrow is me.

.
There are a million reasons to believe in yourself,
So find more reasons to believe in others..

Killer knows you as a friend
He wouldn't make of you a meal
He might visit someday soon
your place there, has such appeal

But do not fear
he just wants to sit and talk
Shake your hand
maybe take a walk

Sit with him, share a recipe
Killer wants to just say Hi
Good food's the topic, you will see
No one here is gonna die

~ Gee

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This must be the place, 'cause there ain't no place like this place anywhere near this place.

author comment

I heard the door I was so Alert
My pistol flew from inside my shirt
It was him, I tell you, but he didn't stay
To chew the fat in any way

Had I weakened and let him in
He may have been sucking my bleeding skin.
I saw him glare as he walked away
No moonraker on the menu today

I feared for all in this village here
They had no inkling that he was near
The morning paper made it clear
Three killed as they sat in their chairs

Gee now be a good friend
Tell Killer to return to your end
Though I love his ways they are not for me
I am a Vegan which is severe Veggie (Rolflmao)

Yours Yenti

.
There are a million reasons to believe in yourself,
So find more reasons to believe in others..

moving on soon. Not sure of where he is going to pop up next, but I'm sure that he will be looking for a new recipe. Fortunately, Vegans are not on his list of all-time favorite foods. He says they are too tough. ~ Gee

There is value to commenting and critique, tell us how you feel about our work.
This must be the place, 'cause there ain't no place like this place anywhere near this place.

author comment

Twisting wrists were warring
 shiny blades came out and played
 A dance of death was stepped
 knives of steel were waved
 
Straining, sweating muscles
 pools of blood upon the floor
 They embraced each other
 pushing, shoving toward the door

 

Just don't let killer pass to the Arab World.
Enough blood is shed here. :) 

❤❤❤❤❤❤

Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words
........Robert Frost☺

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that there must be some people there that the country would like to be rid of. Maybe some terrorists? I promise that he will only take bad-guys. ~ Gee

There is value to commenting and critique, tell us how you feel about our work.
This must be the place, 'cause there ain't no place like this place anywhere near this place.

author comment

another great killer episode

i really enjoyed reading this - great descriptive, well written, although i think there are a couple of places where the rhythm could be improved... but that is probably just ms obsessive/compulsive perfection here :)

one typo i noticed
'deep into toughend skin' - toughened

please don't send killer to australia - i'm terrified of him
did you ever see 'dexter'? i believe it is still on foxtel

love judy
xxx

'Each for the joy of the working, and each, in his separate star,
shall draw the Thing as he sees It, for the God of Things as They are.'
(Rudyard Kipling)

fix that typo S.A. No, I haven't seen an episode of Dexter yet, but I will be looking for him.
Killer really has his heart set on going to Aussieland. He only takes bad people, so you have no reason to be afraid of him. If you still fear, I will let you know when he is coming so that you can hide in your basement and not come out until he is gone. Let me assure you that he is a perfect gentleman and would not do anything to embarass me, by cooking and eating one of my friends. I think you are safe. Love ya, ~ Gee

There is value to commenting and critique, tell us how you feel about our work.
This must be the place, 'cause there ain't no place like this place anywhere near this place.

author comment
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