Hello Poetry is a poetry community that raises money by advertising to passing readers like yourself.

If you're into poetry and meeting other poets, join us to remove ads and share your poetry. It's totally free.
rob kistner Sep 4

this "she" was birthed
in his fractured dreams
helpless as a forest fawn
frail as a snowflake
falling on a May predawn

a captive
to his fearful heart
caught in his twisted fantasy
conjured by his crippled soul
his power is his fallacy

he needs her weak
for at his core
he's filled with sour doubt
knows his time of tyranny
is quickly running out

he seeks to dominate
silences her rising voice
to keep her mute and under thumb
tries to deny her right of choice

with strengthened will
she finds her voice
speaks direct to what she sees
startled by her forthright way
he wants her back upon her knees

once a hollow woman-husk
with sorrow dark as growing dusk
whose spirit withered
in the dimming light
as nightmares swelled
night after night
whose tears once seared the barren land

now rebukes
his fisted hand
and walks away
from the startled man


rob kistner © 2012
(revised 2018)
The ugliness of abusive insecurity and domestic abuse.
This is an older poem of mine that I have since revised a couple times.
I felt compelled to remake this statement.
Don't move.
  He already won,
   There's nothing else to prove.

Don't try.
  He's holding back your wings,
   He won't let you fly.

He's hiding.
  You need to be careful,
   'Cause he's lying there; waiting.

Now listen -
You thought he loved you,
  Remember I warned you.
   He just needed you to be there,
    To do his bidding,
     Whatever he asked,

You were enslaved by his c
He stopped you from doing so many things,
Even leaving the house.
He held you in an I.R.O.N. F.I.S.T.
He didn't trust you, see?
I warned you from the start,
But you didn't listen.

Now you see the monster,
And you run back to me for help.
But you're trapped.
You can't run from him,
You can't hide from your master.

You laid your bed in the grave he set,
And sooner or later you must rest your head.
Thank you for reading ❤.
My whole self offered up.
Like a sacrifice on an ancient stone altar.
The oldest and most pure ritual in the world,
of one human soul putting itself completely in the hands of another.
You take me as I am.
As I was.
As I will be.
You have made me yours and I will stop at nothing to bring you peace, happiness, contentment...
anything you ever desire.
This is my purpose.
The answer to all of my whys.
The quiet place that was always...
V Exeter Aug 4
Good job. ((fuck you))
Someone's fucking foul. ((i'm the queen of trash))
Why don't you put your filthy mouth on it?
((make me)) Why should I? ((i can tell))
Tell, what? ((see it in your eyes, you want my throat))
You think so? ((i'm starting to think you don't))
It almost sounds like you have a heartbeat.
((i can get sad if i want)) That hidden heart.
((it doesn't make me weak)) The last naivete.
RBWhite Aug 4
Take it,
Come on,
Open your mouth,
Just like that...
Don't choke,
Do you like it?
Open your legs,
You held me in place with that commanding look
writhing under your gaze
unable to look away from the piercing sight
and afraid to disobey any order

If it was uttered from your lips
my heart would have soared, stretched, and broken
to be praised by your words
or tenderly touched with your rough hands

I could feel your hand on my neck
squeezing slowly until the blood started pounding
my pain was your pleasure
and your pleasure was my purpose

Little did I know that you would be squeezing too strongly
the ropes were too tight around my waist
the collar choking my neck
no amount of clawing would have made you let go
so I went limp with my love

A submissive gives trust
yields to whoever they believe is worthy
submitting more than their body
but their very essence

A dominant is supposed to wield that trust
to protect and realize the significance of it
not squeeze and suffocate it
pretending that lies warrant trust in return

I could not have been enough for your demands
and you broke the trust I gingerly placed in your hands
Take your bonds and pretend to wrap them around someone else
my being can take no more of your bruising
Are we talking too much more
about love than loving too much ?
So until we talk a little bit less about
it and do a little bit more about it ,
The world and those in need
of a little bit more dose of love,the
greatest of human emotions ,
will forever lack the much needed love .

Are we overly obsessed with the phenomena
called twitter and following more celebrities ,
who don't need us or the superfluous attentions
we give them ? So until we stop following
these one percent famous people,who are
unaware of our existence, and concern
ourselves more and become preoccupied
with the plights and destitution of the ninety percent
needy people in the world ,they'll forever
lack the love and care they need .  

Are we feeding the greedy politicians
and the government with our taxes more than
we should be caring for ourselves and our children?
Until we realize that our governments , politicians ,
The systems they designed and put in place to corrupt , control and dominate us,needs our money more than we need them. will we forever remain the anvil and pawns in the political game of chess designed for profits and gains ,power and control , manipulation  and dominance .
Every revolution begins with a single act of defiance..every awakening begin with a single question .
Mariá Soleil Sep 2017
My breathing picks up
when you swing your hand and in a second,
makes contact with my bare skin.

Your tongue makes its way
into my depth- with synchronized kissing.
Clouding my thoughts.

Snakes wrapped themselves around my body.
Tiny flicks around my ear.
My hearing is barricaded with
heavy breathing
and muffled cries.

Strong iron clamps around my neck,
constricting my breathing
and thrusts ever so violent.

My nails,
they dig into the sheets.
Knuckles turn white.
My cheeks are tinged,
with lipstick shade red.

synchronized dancing in compromising positions.
Sweat covered sheets,
strong aroma of love.
Hazy eyes,
deep breaths.
Chest heaving slowly,
as arms fall to the sides.

White sheets seeping,
when bodies are intertwined.
You whisper words of affection,

And you lay there -
full from your so called love.
When all that really made you full,
was the knowledge -
the power
over my willfull submission.
Next page