#violence poems on Hello Poetry

mayur Oct 2020

three two one...
at the edge of the dark alley
i stopped,
and they broke on to me.

before they could touch me
i handed them my body
and i ran off.
ran off, in such a despair
to hide myself safely
in my mother's fearless tears.

voices out recent violence against women in India

#women #safety #feminism #india #poem #poetry #violence

John-Paul Richard Oct 2020

Write

Write between the lime juice lines,
And basil blood,
On the cutting board
To the rhythm of cooks' kitchen knives,

Write between the wet mop tendril trails,
On the reused restaurant floor,
As you carried to clean
A mistake some rich man made,

Write to the beat of the press,
Punching out the steel form,
In accordance with the curriculum,

Write in the silent moments,
Chewing homemade sandwiches
Through the cigarette smoked sunrise

Write between stun grenade blasts
After cleaning tear gas attacks

Write in between ****** boot prints,
The shape of the state seal
Congealed to the street.

#protests #justice #violence #teaching #school #write #riot #working #class #proletariat

monique ezeh Sep 2020

11:23 pm

thinking about how cops are beating protestors senseless not even 20 minutes from where i live.
thinking about how they block off the streets and stand unmasked, batons in hand, other hand resting pointedly on their gun.
thinking about how it could be me next— another unspecified black face and black body and black existence snuffed out— a hashtag, a mural.
(and those are the lucky ones.)
thinking about how a memorial is the best case scenario for a black life.
thinking about the bodies in the street.
thinking about blood splattering the ground, mixing with paint and obscuring the “black lives matter” lettering on the road.
thinking about the chalk art and loud music in a neighborhood soon-to-be-gentrified.
thinking about how we’ve grown used to the stench of rotting flesh outside our doors.
thinking about the taste of blood in my mouth from my nearly-severed tongue i didn’t realize i was biting.
thinking about the tension in my neck and jaw.
thinking about the way my eyes never seem to close.
thinking about the eyes that will never again open.
thinking thinking thinking.

thinking.

#blm #blacklivesmatter #police #policebrutality #violence #memorial #death #decay

Jiya Sep 2020

musings of a sad man

i am a very sad person

my daily musings consist of
bodies
falling tastefully from
the glorious heights of
towering buildings
in the CBD

overzealous edgy branding
accentuates my
razor sharp words
showing off my
sexiest features

i have the hallmarks of
a depressed teenager?
shocker innit
i wear it on my sleeve
my emotions, that is
or rather
under my sleeve

it took a couple years but
finally I have come to find
that people appreciate a splash of
broken young lady in their lives

i’m just kinda
defeated
sick of pushing it down y’know
my new hobbies include
******* the will to live
out of unsuspecting
girls who
run around preaching
false niceties

you see
it's because I’m also
a very mad person
in more ways than one
i have poison on my tongue
spitting cynical-juices
at everyone who dares speak

just, ignore me! Please!
i beg of you.
let my sadness simmer
with the boiling of my blood

‘double, double toil and trouble
fire burn and cauldron bubble’

i recite the lines as
i cackle away
understanding that
the witches from Macbeth
were really just women
with attitude

in this guise I prepare
to the rip the flesh
from the bones of
those whom I love the most

for I am sad and mad
therefore it is a justified
act of violence
and one who is both sad and mad
can only hope to commit
such acts of treachery

i shall feel joy
for the first time in years
smiling a ****** smile
as acting on ones deepest desires
is awfully fulfilling

#sad #angry #mad #lonely #death #violence #powerful #****** #pain #suffering

Dominique Sep 2020

hometown

Warmth drools like a baby
On the grime grey rooftops
Liberalism spawned dystopian blocks
The windows are never washed there
It's the rain that reveals their guts

On your bus stop murders and attacks
Rife on the Piccadilly line, the hum
Of melted Smirnoff bottle angels lays
A drunken lesbian kiss of delight
Party people live for the moment

When you step outside in the morning
To work for callus marks and gas, the trees
That line your route bob thick punk manes
In time to the beat of the rocking trains
They know what The Clash is about

And when you come back from a getaway
Seaside trip with sand in all your cracks
A little salt on your lips, an assault in the paper
You wallow in the polluted city allure
Like you're breathing in god's ****** incense

There it lies, the roll-up skyline
That would make any two-shoed god give in
To railway bridge peer pressure on his chest
At 4 am with deodorant blowtorches spinning
Leaving entrails of delight in the filthy half-blackness

It's a privilege to live in for sure.

every city looks the same
but ours, my love, is better

#poverty #hatred #anger #violence #work #love #fear #crime #death #life

Mama earth Sep 2020

The man in my dreams

The last few nights
You've been in my dreams
You were my protector
Or so it seemed
In real life and all reality
Me you did demean
Your love is a tragity
The truth has hit like gravity

You are the man of many dreams
Unfortunately you and me can not be
It is written in the stars
This is not our destiny

#separated #love #hurt #violence #sadness #ourchild #him #alcohol #fate #domestic

Graff1980 Sep 2020

Untitled 505

I’ve been looking,
through glass windows,
reflecting city lights
of the night life.

Strange phantasms
pass like distorted
carnival glasses,
mind mirrors broken
from the harsh words
spoken.

I’ve been searching,
seeking the smiling hearts
of brave angels
who face hateful strangers
that are full of poison,
and spitefully spitting
sick syllables,
possibly contagious,
as they go
instantly viral.

I’ve been watching
cops stopping
particular people,
seen one to many
real life movies
that end in tragedy,
and in observing
the hurting
of children
and elderly folks
I have fallen
to tears of rage
and anguish.

I’ve been wondering
if in my wanderings
seeing this sideshow spectacle,
of disrespectful,
cruel, and hateful
authoritarians,
have I found the true face
of America?

#america #hate #violence #observation #pain #searching #racism

Norman Crane Sep 2020

Bully

Mud bath
Doc Martens
                        Back of head
Off the beaten path
                        Still beaten
But at least not dead
*******, they said
Don't understand what I did
But was
Drowning in the ground
One day they'll come around
To me

Doc Martens
                        Back of head
Off the beaten path
                        Still,
                        Beaten
Dead.

Inspired by several news stories about bullying. What struck me was the tragedy of the bullied person coming back, again and again, to the bullies, probably craving attention, perhaps hoping for eventual acceptance, and how that same need (to return, to be accepted) not only intensified the bullying but justified that intensity ("What did he expect? He kept coming back for more!") In the extreme case, the intensification resulted in death. The death itself was seemingly blamed in part on the victim ("Well, he didn't object to us doing X, so naturally we tried X+1. I guess it's sad that X+1 killed him, but all he had to do was [...] and he didn't, so, you know: he didn't save himself.") One of the acts of bullying that struck me was walking on the victim's body, especially across puddles, gravel and mud. I was also surprised by how poorly the bullies were able to explain why they chose their particular victims. Their explanations amounted to: (1) he existed, (2) he existed around us, (3) he kept existing around us despite what we were doing, and (4) he was weird.

#bully #bullies #bullying #bullied #violence #news #cruelty #harassment #death #evil