Funny this should come up. I used to write poetry in my youth and at one time I was on a haiku discussion list. I was looked down upon because I didn't always use a 'nature' word in my haiku as required to be 'true' to form. Of course, I argued that mine were about the 'nature' of humanity.
On being not a vicim:
Synapses fire
Muscles expand and contract
Veins begin to burn.
A man f*cks with me
Knife slides smoothly between ribs
I continue on.
Man busts up my car
Run him down at ninety-five
New hood ornament.
Man breaks in my house
My gun barks twice, drag him in
Go on back to sleep.
A single gunshot,
Like blood-red punctuation,
Ending the sentence.
Sunlight glints off brass
Arcing gently through the air,
Landing at my feet.
The smell of cordite
Perfume in the rancid air
Burns at my nostrils.
As I stomp you down
Big black boots now black and red
A graphic footprint.
Hidden among us;
You cannot spot a killer
By the shoes he wears.
Cool acts of violence
I don't insult my victims
By feeling sorry.
A friend of mine & I used to ponder mimes in much the same way zombies are discussed here on THR:
Invisible box,
The man within shot once; twice,
What sound does he make?
Calliope plays
Another dead harlequin,
Blood stains a white face.
Silencer, of course
His gun is fast...mine faster,
Shots break the silence.
The now severed head
Takes the steps two at a time,
Smile still intact.
Written during the 1st Gulf War. Same as it ever was...
Foreign diplomats
Refuse to admit to their sins;
With insincere smiles.
Through the viewfinder,
Moonlight plays on quiet streets
In this strange city.
I wait in darkness,
And watch the war on TV,
Feeling only cold.