I wrote a few haiku about hanging, then decided to combine them into a long doggerel about a medieval execution. If you have any suggestion for improving it, or would like to try playing with it yourself, feel free. I think it might look better in prose than verse, but the results of my attempts to convert it have been pretty bad.
A wretched young thief
filthy arms pinioned behind
his pale whip-scarred back.
Dragged to the gallows
agony and death await
he weeps bitter tears.
Feet on the ladder
Heart beats, eyes, teeth, and fists clenched
he waits for the end.
He trembles and moans
as the ladder is pulled from
under his bare feet.
He falls through the air
horrible, life-ending pain
as the noose tightens.
His feet kick the air
his face contorted with pain
he chokes and he gasps.
As his face reddens
his struggles begin to slow
one last shudder-gone.
The boy's neck is stretched
head bent, blond hair cascading
his lips turn purple.
His bowels empty
imps take his wicked soul to
eternal torment.
Rooks land on his corpse
swinging in the wind; they peck
out his bloodshot eyes,
Eat his swollen tongue
tear out his golden hair, to
make nests for their young.
His corpse swings for days
rain washes the blood and filth
from his young body.
His limbs stiffen, then
slowly begin to soften.
He begins to rot.
He has no kin--none
to love him-- except some poor
girls who remember
His fair hair, bright eyes
know his quick hands caressing
his pale, lean young form.
But memory fades
so his stinking corpse, unclaimed
is tossed in a pit
beneath the gallows
his head nestles the bloated
corpse of a rapist.
Only infamous
criminals are remembered,
dipped in pitch to warn.
An example, they swing
from chains til their limbs unjoin.
Then displayed in baskets.
But this dubious
honor is undeserved by
our thief. His bleached bones
are picked by rooks
only his skull and fair hair
remain. These are crushed
with a shovel to
make way foe more offenders.
A thin dirt cover
is dumped on his bones
some hardy weeds intertwine
with his hair, and sprout
Grow into a bush
under which baby birds cheep
and play merrily.
End
filthy arms pinioned behind
his pale whip-scarred back.
Dragged to the gallows
agony and death await
he weeps bitter tears.
Feet on the ladder
Heart beats, eyes, teeth, and fists clenched
he waits for the end.
He trembles and moans
as the ladder is pulled from
under his bare feet.
He falls through the air
horrible, life-ending pain
as the noose tightens.
His feet kick the air
his face contorted with pain
he chokes and he gasps.
As his face reddens
his struggles begin to slow
one last shudder-gone.
The boy's neck is stretched
head bent, blond hair cascading
his lips turn purple.
His bowels empty
imps take his wicked soul to
eternal torment.
Rooks land on his corpse
swinging in the wind; they peck
out his bloodshot eyes,
Eat his swollen tongue
tear out his golden hair, to
make nests for their young.
His corpse swings for days
rain washes the blood and filth
from his young body.
His limbs stiffen, then
slowly begin to soften.
He begins to rot.
He has no kin--none
to love him-- except some poor
girls who remember
His fair hair, bright eyes
know his quick hands caressing
his pale, lean young form.
But memory fades
so his stinking corpse, unclaimed
is tossed in a pit
beneath the gallows
his head nestles the bloated
corpse of a rapist.
Only infamous
criminals are remembered,
dipped in pitch to warn.
An example, they swing
from chains til their limbs unjoin.
Then displayed in baskets.
But this dubious
honor is undeserved by
our thief. His bleached bones
are picked by rooks
only his skull and fair hair
remain. These are crushed
with a shovel to
make way foe more offenders.
A thin dirt cover
is dumped on his bones
some hardy weeds intertwine
with his hair, and sprout
Grow into a bush
under which baby birds cheep
and play merrily.
End
