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Tyrone Vincent Banks

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Poetic Homicide
by Tyrone Vincent Banks

Friday, July 08, 2005
Rated "PG13" by the Author.
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Recent poems by Tyrone Vincent Banks
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Just rambling on about an alternative to violence...

Poetic Homicide

© 2005, Tyrone Vincent Banks



The power of one voice can be hard to ignore

It can captivate the senses

It can twist reality

It can burn a bridge

It can shed light on your situation

It can murder your bad intentions


The poet walks in, without a sound

Walks to the center of the room – he looks around

The bystanders ask, “Who is this clown?”

The power of his voice shook the ground

Struggle to your feet – get knocked back down!

Mortified by the ideas he found

A clever marriage of prepositions, verbs and nouns

Your head starts spinning - around and round

Unraveling the fabric by which you’re bound


Poetic homicide

Step inside

Watch yourself but enjoy the ride

Five seconds later the evil died

Could the voice be the choice – you decide...

The journey or the gurney? The voice is the guide.

Listen or ignore as you crash to the floor

The power of his voice – Yes it shook the ground

Will you struggle to your feet – to get knocked back down?


Open up your thought process

Or else we will regress

And fall deeper and deeper into this mess


Poetic homicide

Don’t try to hide


He walked right in wearing a long block coat

The room started to turn as the crowd did choke

Time stood still as he opened that coat


He reached slowly inside –








Nothing more than a poem that he chose and wrote




Everything was all right

As he started to recite

The poetic terrorist moves through the daylight

Words are far better than lead and steel

A Poetic Hit man is no less real

Than a man who walks in, waves a gun in the air

Squeezes off a few rounds as you cower in fear


A problem can be resolved through spoken word.

You don’t need to strap on a bomb just to be heard.

Before resorting to violence – could it have occurred…?

That the art of conversation, where you speak and are heard

Can clarify your view when your vision is blurred


Poetic homicide

To prevent genocide

How many innocents have been hurt or have died

When one took a side

Because of prejudice or pride

No matter what they said or the tears they’ve cried

Don’t attach a bomb to the bus that I ride

We’re pawns in this game and we can’t decide

Who’s wrong when they’re wrong and who’s right when they’re right?



Beat me with a word

Put away your sword

Tell me your ideas so that you can be heard…










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Reviewed by Jerry Bolton (Reader) 7/8/2005
Yeah. Sounds good to us poets and weould-be poets, we tinker with the written word. And we don't have the fire of terrorism within our belly, and besides, it seems that the written word is what has conjured up all this violence. I believe it is called the Koran.
Reviewed by Jill Eisnaugle 7/8/2005
I think we're all feeling this today, Tyrone. I think we'd all rather see the hatred in print than in the form of violence against our citizens. At least, we can put aside the in-print version if we choose not to read it. The bombings are hard to ignore.

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