Krimigedicht Category

Posted On Februar 8, 2014By Die RedaktionIn Crimemag, Krimigedicht

Krimigedicht: You rascal you

You rascal you You sure is a rascal! I’ll be glad when you dead, you rascal, you! I’ll be glad when you dead, you rascal, you! When you dead in your grave, No more women will you crave. I’ll be glad when you dead, you rascal, you! I trust you in my home, you rascal, you. I trust you in my home, you rascal, you. I trust you in my home, You wouldn’t leave my wife alone. I’ll be glad when you dead, you rascal, you! I fed you sinceRead More
Lebendig begraben von Gottfried Keller I. Wie poltert es! – Abscheuliches Geroll Von Schutt und Erde, modernden Gebeinen! Ich kann nicht lachen und kann auch nicht weinen, Doch nimmt’s mich wunder, wie das enden soll! Nun wird es still. – Sie trollen sich nach Haus Und lassen mich hier sieben Fuß tief liegen: Nun, Phantasie! laß deine Adler fliegen, Hier schwingen sie wohl nimmer mich hinaus! Das ist jetzt eine wunderliche Zeit! Im dunkeln Grab kein Regen und kein Rühren, Indes der Geist als Holzwurm mag spazieren Im Tannenholz –Read More
The Guns of Brixton by Paul Simonon When they kick out your front door How you gonna come? With your hands on your head Or on the trigger of your gun When the law break in How you gonna go? Shot down on the pavement Or waiting in death row You can crush us You can bruise us But you’ll have to answer to Oh, Guns of Brixton The money feels good And your life you like it well But surely your time will come As in heaven, as inRead More

Posted On Januar 11, 2014By Die RedaktionIn Crimemag, Krimigedicht

Krimigedicht: MC Solaar ‒ Gangster moderne

Gangster moderne von MC Solaar Yeah, les héros sont des petits voleurs Ils ont juste rajouté quatre ou cinq zeros Ne leur en voulez pas Il est là, large, barge, prés de la berge nage A quitté la cage pour le marivaudage Le marécage est derrière lui, loin Son acte le plus sage est d’avoir tiré sur Le Parrain Dans son quartier, le général Noriega, Est aussi respecté que Jean Bedel Bokassa Nino Brown, Escobar, les bloc-notes de dollars Sont aussi vénérés que Jésus-Christ le soir En pleine crise, AldoRead More
The Kill by Amanda Palmer & Brian Viglione (aka The Dresden Dolls) I am anarchist An Antichrist An asterisk I am atheist An acolyte An alcoholic I am eleven feet OK, eight Six foot three I am an amazon An ampersand An accident I fought the British and I won I am a rocket ship A jet fighter A paper airplane Say what you will I am the kill The only only one that makes you real The only thing that makes you really truly safe from me Put PatRead More
Twenty Four Robbers by James Young & Ted Buckner Last night, night before, twenty-four robbers came to my door. Opened the door and let them in, I hit ’em in the head with a bottle of gin Just can’t, understand, twenty-four robbers fighting one man. One of them took the silverware, it wasn’t very good, so I really don’t care. I’m gonna warn you (warn you) I’ll tell you what to do (what to do) You’d better lock your door (lock your door) Cause the robbermen might come back againRead More

Posted On November 30, 2013By Die RedaktionIn Crimemag, Krimigedicht

Krimigedicht: Wladimir Majakowski ‒ Linker Marsch

Linker Marsch. Den Matrosen von Wladimir Majakowski Entrollt euren Marsch, Burschen von Bord! Schluß mit dem Zank und Gezauder. Still da, ihr Redner! Du hast das Wort, rede, Genosse Mauser! Brecht das Gesetz aus Adams Zeiten. Gaul Geschichte, du hinkst … Woll’n den Schinder zu Schanden reiten. Links! Links! Links! Blaujacken, he! Wann greift ihr an? Fürchtet ihr Ozeanstürme?! Wurden im Hafen euch eurem Kahn rostig die Panzertürme? Laßt den britischen Löwen brüllen – zahnlosfletschende Sphinx. Keiner zwingt die Kommune zu Willen. Links! Links Links! Dort hinter finsterschwerem Gebirg liegtRead More

Posted On November 22, 2013By Die RedaktionIn Crimemag, Krimigedicht

Krimigedicht: Héctor Lavoe ‒ Vigilante

Vigilante von Héctor Lavoe A veces la moral y la ley no están de acuerdo, Y son estos momentos que pueden hacer de un Delincuente un hombre derecho, la casa, los niños,‘ La familia, las amistades, la tranquilidad. Hay veces cuando hay que defenderlas, hay tiempo Pa quejarse, hay tiempo pa peliar. La calle esta desierta, la noche ya no es nuestra, Todos tiemblan al oscurecer, caramba yo prefiero que me juzguen doce a que me entierren seis. Hay que estar vigilante Quiero ser vigilante No salgas solo esta noche,Read More

Posted On November 16, 2013By Die RedaktionIn Crimemag, Krimigedicht

Krimigedicht: Ndrangheta, Camurra e Mafia

Ndrangheta camurra e mafia-trascuranza Di na notti di un tempo che fù Tri cavalleri, da Spagna si partiru Dal Abruzzi à Sicilia passarù E poi ccà in Calabria si fermarù Vint’un anni lavoraru sutt’a terra Pi fundari li reguli sociali Leggi d’onore, di sangue, di guerra Leggi maggiori, minori e criminali E sti regoli di sangue e d’omertà Da padri a figghiu si li tramandarù Chisti su leggi di a società Leggi cu segnu ’nda storia lassarù Ndrangheta, camurra e mafia È societa organizzata Ndrangheta, camurra e mafia Sicilia, CalabriaRead More

Posted On November 9, 2013By Die RedaktionIn Crimemag, Krimigedicht

Krimigedicht: Wayne Hussey ‒ Wake

Wake by Wayne Hussey/ The Mission The tryed and the trusted talk of plans Master, past and present Heartless wordplay, and dreams of revenge Living on the edge, the razor edge, living on the razor edge One day we’ll look back at this And laugh and laugh and we’ll die laughing One day we’ll look back at this and laugh Pillar of wisdom and soul of iron Alone, in the crumbling tower of power All your friends are dead and buried, they died laughing All your friends are dead andRead More
Futuristischer Schleifenschüttelreim von Erich Mühsam   Der Nitter splackt. Das Splatter nickt, wenn splitternackt die Natter splickt. (1913) www.erich-muehsam.deRead More

Posted On Oktober 26, 2013By Die RedaktionIn Crimemag, Krimigedicht

Krimigedicht: Georg Trakl ‒ De Profundis

De Profundis von Georg Trakl Es ist ein Stoppelfeld, in das ein schwarzer Regen fällt. Es ist ein brauner Baum, der einsam dasteht. Es ist ein Zischelwind, der leere Hütten umkreist. Wie traurig dieser Abend. Am Weiler vorbei Sammelt die sanfte Waise noch spärliche ähren ein. Ihre Augen weiden rund und goldig in der Dämmerung Und ihr Schoß harrt des himmlischen Bräutigams. Bei der Heimkehr Fanden die Hirten den süßen Leib Verwest im Dornenbusch. Ein Schatten bin ich ferne finsteren Dörfern. Gottes Schweigen Trank ich aus dem Brunnen des Hains.Read More

Posted On Oktober 19, 2013By Die RedaktionIn Crimemag, Krimigedicht

Krimigedicht: The Call of Quantrill

The Call of Quantrill Up! comrades, up! The moon’s in the west, and the hounds of old Pennock will find out our nest. We must be gone ere the dawning of day; the Quantrill they seek shall be far, far away. Their toils after us shall ever be vain. Let them scout through the brush and scour the plain; We’ll pass through their midst in the dead of the night. We are lions in combat and eagles in flight. Rouse, my brave boys, up, up and away; press hard onRead More

Posted On September 28, 2013By Die RedaktionIn Crimemag, Krimigedicht

Krimigedicht: Walt Whitman: A Death-Sonnet for Custer

„A Death-Sonnet for Custer“ by Walt Whitman I From far Montana’s cañons, Lands of the wild ravine, the dusky Sioux, the lone- some stretch, the silence, Haply, to-day, a mournful wail—haply, a trumpet note for heroes. II. The battle-bulletin, The Indian ambuscade—the slaughter and environ- ment The cavalry companies fighting to the last—in stern- est, coolest, heroism. The fall of Custer, and all his officers and men. III. Continues yet the old, old legend of our race! The loftiest of life upheld by death! The ancient banner perfectly maintained! (ORead More
Der Gattenmörder von Joseph von Eichendorff Vater und Kind gestorben ruhen im Grabe tief, die Mutter hat erworben seitdem ein andrer Lieb. Da droben auf dem Schlosse da schallt das Hochzeitsfest, da lacht’s und wiehern die Rosse, durchs Grün ziehn bunte Gäst’. Die Braut schaut ins Gefilde noch einmal vom Altan, es sah so ernst und milde sie da der Abend an. Rings waren schon verdunkelt die Täler und der Rhein, in ihrem Brautschmuck funkelt nur noch der Abendschein. Sie hörte Glocken gehen im weiten tiefen Tal, er bracht derRead More
Smackwater Jack by Gerry Goffin & Carole King Now Smackwater Jack, he bought a shotgun ’Cause he was in the mood for a little confrontation He just let it all hang loose He didn’t think about the noose He couldn’t take no more abuse So he shot down the congregation You can’t talk to a man With a shotgun in his hand Shotgun Now Big Jim the chief stood for law and order He called for the guard to come and surround the border Now from his bulldog mouth AsRead More
In Germany before the War by Randy Newman In Germany Before The War There was a man who owned a store In nineteen hundred thirty-four In Dusseldorf And every night at fine-o-nine He’d cross the park down to the Rhine And he’d sit there by the shore I’m looking at the river But I’m thinking of the sea Thinking of the sea Thinking of the sea I’m looking at the river But I’m thinking of the sea A little girl has lost her way With hair of gold and eyesRead More
Icarus Mir träumt, ich flög gar bange Wohl in die Welt hinaus, Zu Straßburg durch alle Gassen Bis vor Feinsliebchens Haus. Feinsliebchen ist betrübt, Als ich so flieg und rennt: Wer dich so fliegen lehrt, Das ist der böse Feind. Feinsliebchen, was hilft hier lügen, Da du doch alles weist, Wer mich so fliegen lehrt, Das ist der böse Geist. Feinsliebchen weint und schreiet, Daß ich vom Schrey erwacht, Da saß ich ach! in Augsburg Gefangen auf der Wacht. Und morgen muß ich hangen, Feinslieb mich nicht mehr ruft, WohlRead More
Minnie the Moocher by Cab Calloway & Irving Mills Folks here’s a story ’bout Minnie the Moocher; she was a red hot hoochie coocher. She was the roughest toughest frail; but Minnie had a heart as big as a whale. Hi de hi de hi de hi Ho de ho de ho de ho Hee de hee de hee de hee Ho oo waooo waoooo She messed around with a bloke named Smokey; She loved him though he was kokey. He took her down to Chinatown and showed her howRead More

Posted On August 17, 2013By Die RedaktionIn Crimemag, Krimigedicht

Krimigedicht: Tom Waits – Gun Street Girl

Gun Street Girl by Tom Waits Falling James in the Tahoe mud Stick around to tell us all the tail He fell in love with a Gun Street Girl and Now he’s danced in the Birmingham jail. Took a 100 dollars off a slaughterhouse Joe Brought a bran’ new michigan 20 gauge Got all liquored up on that road house corn, Blew a hole in the hood of a yellow corvette Blew a hole in the hood of a yellow corvette. Brought a second hand Nova from a Cuban ChineseRead More

Posted On August 10, 2013By Die RedaktionIn Crimemag, Krimigedicht

Krimigedicht: Amanda Palmer ‒ Ampersand

Ampersand by Amanda Palmer I walk down my street at night The city lights are cold and violent I am comforted by the Approaching sound of trucks and sirens Even though the world’s so bad These men rush out to help the dying And though I am no use to them I do my part by simply smiling The ghetto boys are catcalling me As I pull my keys from my pocket I wonder if this method Of courtship has ever been effective Has any girl in history said Sure,Read More

Posted On Juni 29, 2013By Die RedaktionIn Crimemag, Krimigedicht

Krimigedicht: Ludwig Uhland: Geisterleben

Geisterleben von Ludwig Uhland Von dir getrennet, lieg ich wie begraben, Mich grüßt kein Säuseln linder Frühlingslüfte; Kein Lerchensang, kein Balsam süßer Düfte, Kein Strahl der Morgensonne kann mich laben. Wann sich die Lebenden dem Schlummer gaben, Wann Tote steigen aus dem Schoß der Grüfte, Dann schweb ich träumend über Höhn und Klüfte, Die mich so fern von dir gedränget haben. Durch den verbotnen Garten darf ich gehen, Durch Türen wandl ich, die mir sonst verriegelt, Bis zu der Schönheit stillem Heiligtume. Erschreckt dich Geisterhauch, du zarte Blume? Es istRead More
Whistlin’ past the graveyard by Tom Waits I come in on a night train with an arm full of boxcars on the wings of a magpie cross a hooligan night and I busted up a chifferobe way out by the kokomo cooked up a mess of mulligan and got into a fight whistlin‘ past the graveyard steppin‘ on a crack me and mother hubbard papa one-eyed Jack you probably seen me sleepin out by the railroad tracks go on and ask the prince of darkness what about all that smokeRead More
Hard To Thrill by Eric Clapton/John Mayer Hard to thrill Nothing really moves me anymore Hard to thrill Nothing really moves me anymore There is nothing you can show me That I haven’t seen before I’ve got time to kill Keeping to myself inside this room Time to kill Keeping to myself inside this room Over forty years of fridays You would give up trying too Hard to thrill Nothing really moves me anymore I’m hardly thrilled Nothing really moves me anymore There is nothing you can show me ThatRead More

Posted On Juni 7, 2013By Die RedaktionIn Crimemag, Krimigedicht

Krimigedicht: The Hanging of Charlie Birger

The Hanging of Charlie Birger I will tell you of a bandit in a great midwestern state Who never learned his lesson until it was too late; This man was bold and careless and the leader of his gang His boldness did not save him when the law said, „You must hang.“ This bandit’s name was Birger, he lived at Shady Rest The people learned to fear him throughout the middle west; It was out in old West City, Joe Adams was shot down Then the cry of justice said,Read More

Posted On Juni 1, 2013By Die RedaktionIn Crimemag, Krimigedicht

Krimigedicht: Dresden Dolls – Missed Me

Missed Me von Dresden Dolls missed me missed me now you’ve got to kiss me if you kiss me mister i might tell my sister if i tell her mister she might tell my mother and my mother, mister, just might tell my father and my father mister he won’t be too happy and he’ll have his lawyer come up from the city and arrest you mister so i wouldnt miss me if you get me, mister, see? missed me missed me now you’ve got to kiss me if youRead More