October 25, 2019 12:52 pm


WITH HALLOWEEN APPROACHING HERE IS: “HAMMER” by Cassandra Swan. This is an INTERNATIONAL CONTEST-WINNING POEM LYRICS: this is a dark poem written from the perspective of the murder weapon.

The lyrics won an international contest and the soundtrack includes music and sound effects in collaboration Russian Composer Andrey Kireyev.

Listen to HAMMER: soundcloud.com/cassandraswan11/hammer


Baptised by Mephistopheles’ hand and sweat,

I hang, irascible, in a ramshackle garden shed;

with cobwebs and gadgets, damp as a derelict church:

engulfed and darkened, by a creaking silver birch.


Only I and the twisted totalitarian ever know

when his satanic, fickle, deadly side will show.

By day, I hit nails into floorboards and cupboards;

night dumps me in his tool-bag, where I’m smothered.


Scissored with screwdrivers, I peer through sackcloth;

hurled into the car boot, I feel his blood-curdling.

At the mercy of the crackerjack, possessed by a dybbuk,

he kerb-crawls for tender flesh for a madman’s nip and tuck.


The frenzied devil dictates and I am his freak;

controlling me like a glove puppet; week after week.

He drives cool, calm and collected in his perverted hearse;

this is the core of his mission, a schadenfreude curse.


I told the quivering chisel how fortunate he was;

utilised dutifully to free up the roof from thick moss.

Nothing I can do to change my demonic reputation;

I’m as schizothymic as my demented custodian.


Confronted by the cops, I was chucked behind a water-butt;

canines and drunks urinated on me and dead leaves stuck

to my trunk: it decays, sanguine-soaked to the core!

Will the moirai keep me banging on the hangman’s door?


Will I continue to stare at spindly-legged spiders?

Will I have to commit more grisly, manic murders?

To the contrary, I am removed from the shed’s rusty hook;

for multiple murder, I was thrown the judicial book.


I now wear a coat of transparent polythene;

and a dubious label, “Murder Weapon”; unsightly, obscene.

I go down in crime history as the heinous hammer;

an icon amongst guns and bludgeoning spanners.


I had no fair trial: wielded by my master whom I feared,

a short, sharp shock ended my chequered career.


Detained in the cells for murder weapons on Death Row;

promiscuous as my master I sleep with herrenvolk:

guns, axes, hatchets and all kinds of knives.

We compare gory notes on how we took our victims’ lives.

Copyright Cassandra Swan – TLAZOLTEOTL POEMS & ILLUSTRATIONS – 2004 – All rights reserved

This poem won an international contest.

The soundtrack will feature in Cassandra’s screenplay: SISTER LAZARUS.

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This post was written by Nadia Vella