"amoral" poems
This was a twisted night,
I looked naughty at her sight,
He brought me a **** scrumptious babydoll,
Where I took her fully on demand,
Commanded us to kiss,
I felt her lips speak on mines wanting me to make her mine,
He watched us unravel into one of his prolonged fantasies,
In my mind I felt amoral,
But every part of me love the entertainment of pleasure we had,
The night aroma smelled like grapefruit,
And she tasted like a sugar cane,
Such a bittersweet moment,
Move baby move,
Slow baby slow,
She did by my every word,
I had to much control on her,
Like she was my little voluptuous puppet,
That night it should've last longer,
Her curvy body so addictive to hold,
Her heartbeat so quietly beating to match mine,
The way she looked at me as if I brought her back to life of happiness,
I noticed how she fell for me more than I care for her,
But I noticed how I fell for him more,
We made it clear how we felt that night,
He made it clear how he liked it,
Will I ever be the
same without her,
Or is it the two that finally makes me complete.
Jul 16, 2015
Jul 16, 2015 at 7:02 PM UTC
Teasing the beast
Looking for a feast
Hounds barking at our ears
Vultures flying up ahead
Circling a bald eagle's fresh corpse
Compartmentalizing symptom after symptom
To hide the great systematic sickness
Labeling the suffering, outcome from desire
We, wholeheartedly accepting being
Appropriated, labeled, discarded
As construing our own oppression and sadness
Enduring the **** of our minds
Being castrated of our consciousness
Before we reap the products
Of its bold liberation and grandness
Its the belly of the beast
And its hungry
Insatiable, amoral entrails
Hoping to salvage a feast
From the casualties of d(e)moc(ratic) wars
Hoping we feed our monstrous fear
Thirsting for the greed
Dripping off of accumulating wealths
Impatiently waiting, we keep parceling out grudges
Disfiguring our minds, our souls, and our bodies
Its misanthropic nature lashes out without conscience
Knowing we'll never realize we are masses
Disappearing the individuals who realize their suffering
Ensuring there's no collective opposition or action
Trying to reassure we are weak
Knowing at some point or another
We all act mute, deaf, and blind when anyone experiences:
Oppression
Pain
Silencing
****
Hunger
Fear
Violence
Repression
Retaliation
Discrimination
Torture
Negation
Alienation
All forms of mental, psychological, physical, and spiritual mutilation
Fearing death more than fighting for necessary abolishment
Preferring to live out our veiled miseries
Endorsing their continuance
Instead of risking our lives for everyone's liberation
Always ensuring the feast of the beast
By its very efforts trying to decree our very human nature
Ingraining greed, fear, animosity, and weakness as if inherent of us
All parts of its most damaging weapon: the seed of discord
Its implantation, a socialized deep desire for self-preservation
Sheep bleating painfully toward our ears
Vultures flying up ahead
Circling a bald eagle's fresh corpse
Signifying the impending recapturing
Of our true transformative desires
May 4, 2013
May 4, 2013 at 11:30 PM UTC
Romantic arson,
a thousand lovers burning
to the blooming flowers
of my accelerant:
amoral, senseless rage.
Because I do not
or will not consider
another vice
for your confessional.
Come shed indifference.
Thumb the holy water font.
Theorize inconclusive evidence
of life apart from love.
Crawl into
the vacant church
which is my heart.
Idolize Me.
Jul 6, 2010
Jul 6, 2010 at 3:05 PM UTC
Between
Black and White
Right and Wrong
War and Peace
lies the
Gray zone the
Blurred line
Middle ground
Limbo
No boundaries between
Good and Evil
Moral and Amoral
Thin ice and
Solid ground
No safety net to prevent slipping into extremes
No caution signs or flashing lights to guide our steps
We live and die in a
Fairy tale with alternate endings penned by
Politicians
Media moguls and
Religious fanatics who
Convince us to
Choose from a stacked deck to
Win a fixed game
Compliment us on our finery
tho we are threadbare or naked
We live in the land of the free where the
Rule of law applies only to commoners
Opportunity comes with a price few can afford and
Everyone has the
Right to work and the
Right to be exploited
You might be dwelling in the kingdom of surreality if….
Conflicting images are presented as harmonious
Opposites are blended to form bland
Ugliness is sugar-coated and swallowed whole
Love and passion interfere with success.
Sep 25, 2016
Sep 25, 2016 at 2:40 PM UTC
It's over now, It's so hard to think of You,
Must be good for you cuz now you're able to do what ever you want, be with them other women.
I'd stab you if I'd never get caught, Like how I caught you. I'd run a sworded tip right through your lying self,
Poke you right where ya heart should be but I doubt it you have one, I think you have psychopathic behavior and if you don't understand let me clarify it NOW;
"
A person with an antisocial personality disorder, manifested in aggressive, perverted, criminal, or amoral behavior without empathy or remorse."
That's what you didn't have for me- remorse or empathy, you must have some kind of personality disorder to treat me so negatively, I'd get over it easily if it was so simple,
Knowing that soon I'll breed your children makes me even more mad, makes me afraid to be with out you even knowing what I already do.
But I gotta shake you off,
get you outta my head,my house & bed,
See you know your a good lover
but it's just not enough
and if it was just your ***
well I can get that from the next,
Like you said can't no one do me like you,
And your right
I don't think anyone else can
lie & mistreat me or ever cheat on me
Hell naw not like you did,
Right under my radar,
You where so slick with your deception's,
So cool while be confronted
and held your ground until you
heard she too was carry your child.
haa haa haa Your gonna Pay Now!
one way or another
You'll pay and I ain't got to do a **** thang!
well I do have to finally find the courage to
Leave Yo *** !
Always Me Ayeshah
Feb 8, 2010
Feb 8, 2010 at 9:08 PM UTC
[Ready?]
Yes but I really don’t approve of your obvious use of anabolic steroids. It’s an amoral and cowardly shortcut. And don’t even get me started on the innumerable adverse effects. Don’t even get me started.
[Can you keep up ?]
Of course but can we talk? Can we talk? The size and shape of your head is comical who do you think you’re kidding? You have, by far, the roundest head I’ve ever seen. I can’t help but imagine you as an obtuse High School English professor who doesn’t understand the source of his students’ laughter but really, it’s because you gave me a C on an essay because you say I had a “circular” argument. Or as an equally clueless physics professor generating chuckles left and right in response to your lecture on “spherical” whatsits in a vacuum.
[Are you tired?]
No, we’re not done yet—Am I right? Am I right? Look at you. If God ever were to create guns or pumps or pecs of that size, it would only be by way of some syntax error.
[How about now?]
No, let me finish—Who are you trying to impress? Masculinity most certainly isn’t the word to use. I’d say monstrosity. Who do you think is or would be attracted to a walking, talking industrial sized freezer. If a woman needs protection, she’ll find a guard dog of necessary ferocity. Or maybe, she’ll cultivate some kind of relationship with you and find comfort in the fact that if she ever upsets you, you could break the ***** in half without the slightest hitch.
[……]
I don’t even want to know the state of the pinpricks you at one point called your testicles
[……]
I wouldn’t even say it’s proper to call you “Mr. Universe”. You’re big, but you’re not that big. I’m more inclined to call you “Mr. Pampered and Pumped up New England”. I cannot comfortably call you Mr. Universe because I’m not comfortable having you represent my universe. The “Mr.” signals the “Master”. That’s just appalling. And what is with the spray tan? What is the true pasty picture of Mr. Universe throughout the winter months? If someone ever has a question for the Master of the universe, I’ll be sure to tell them to direct their questions to the beefed up and bloated tangerine to my left.
[……]
……
[……]
Are we done?
[No]
How far have we gone?
[Nowhere]
What?
[You have gone too far, but we haven’t even walked out the door. Once you’re finished running your mouth, we can work on getting your fat, saggy *** into shape.]
Dec 13, 2011
Dec 13, 2011 at 12:56 AM UTC
We triumph for those who have known us in glory
And in utter ruin remember the story
Acknowledge our valor, our power to keep
Braving all odds unheeded, march into the deep
Preserving a legacy not quite our own
Be of foes we have bested to reclaim the throne
Or of people we’ve wrested from brinks of despair
Abject in their poverty, dreamless nightmare
As we serve higher causes of righteous assurance
Our quest ever dauntless against the abhorrence
An amoral mass of the impure intent
In our ascent raise them from endless lament
To depart from a world to for years we have been
But as shadows to those of us living in sin
For it is but of ours time itself meets its fate
And begins to devour us all in its gape
Sep 15, 2018
Sep 15, 2018 at 12:54 PM UTC
Imagining yourself a one true love,
know
these are lunatic lies
arranged in the sky to wile away
the monumental guilt that tessellates stony relationships
You're a young man
starting out- there's
heroism on minor scale
a dreamy-eyed smouldering
some sense of discrete self-evaluation
a modesty of taste
I am some madder
version of who nobody should be
amoral, unkind, with nothing to redeem me
save the love of ragged street-dogs, and the owning of books.
Why fall into togetherness,
as if it were an easy game, to arrange in terms
of size, splendor, jollity, dice?
And that done, why pretend nobody loses?
At least admit to feeling lost.
You're
memory
of a silhouette walking
to me
you're as real as this poem is.
Apr 30, 2014
Apr 30, 2014 at 3:29 PM UTC
This is a man,
without change.
This is a man,
alone.
No convictions
to sour his soul.
This is a man,
who sees the tide.
This is a man,
Who is outlaw, brigand
and savior.
He walks a path,
no dusty trail.
He makes a call,
just to gamble.
This is a man,
with no hope
This is a man,
amoral.
No God, No Glory,
just alone.
Mar 6, 2012
Mar 6, 2012 at 2:01 AM UTC
An anxious amortal
archnemesis
affectionately
allowing an amoral
animosity
achieve an attitudal
agressive and aversion against
any and all
annoying,
aggravating,
afflicting,
and almost annihilating
alliterations,
although all
aforementioned actions
are absolutely
artificial.
An amiable
abomination
and architectural abuse
at an alphabet achieved
after aesthetically
arranging ample
arbitrary
alternatives alone,
amounting an acclamation.
An affinity at
awkward avante-garde arts
arising at
an astronomical acceleration,
aside an archaic
argumentum ad
antiquitatem argument
awfully appraising
an atheistic and agnostic
apparition,
anthrophomorphically
alive and apparently
alright after asphyxiation,
alluding an astral authority
absolving accusations
and all allegations.
An advantageously
astute and adroit assassin
always actively
acting and assaulting
alone, ain't assisted
anyhow,
already
antiquating auxillaries
altogether.
An alliteratious afterfocus:
Aborting all anticipations.
Anticipating affirmative antagonizations.
All are alright.
Already airtight.
Adios, amigos.
Author: anonymous,
an acorn-afflicted,
assassinatrix affiliate.
attributed as Agent Argent.
Aug 16, 2017
Aug 16, 2017 at 11:54 AM UTC
The world was born of steely gray
An utter blending of the shades
Of miserable black and righteous white
Indicating wrong and right.
Or is it white whose hue condemns
And black from which the conscience stems?
Never matter, our impartial domain
Favors neither of its veins
Confounding at its very core
The moral and amoral score.
Sep 29, 2011
Sep 29, 2011 at 3:42 AM UTC
Time doesn't exist
but for mankind's presence
it's amoral, heartless and nonchalant
though it doesn't utter a single sentence.
Wielding a whip over everyone's head
like a cattle-drover
none would it leave alone
it's a bully and a dictator.
The day is bleeding
men and women are in frenzy
work must be done--deals must go through-
everyone needs the money
too eager to push a competitor down
it's survival of the fittest
it's a jungle out there
pity the weakest.
Many would be the day's losers
hopes will be dashed, tears will flow
hearts will be broken, promises unfulfilled
that's the way the world does go.
This is the bleeding of day
and a heavy toll it has taken on so many
the evening and night offer little rest or comfort
while time is watching without the slightest sympathy.
Feb 18, 2016
Feb 18, 2016 at 1:28 AM UTC
Fellow Americans
Won't is not can't
We can end this tirade
This ignorant rant
******* crusade
This fearmongering
Xenophobic campaign
This point your fat finger
Take none of the blame
This **** flinging ape
This bombastic baboon
Rotting all of our brains
Like a ****** cartoon
This email distraction
For no course of action
Except the word "jobs"
And a Twitter war faction
This sick, twisted joke
This comedy act
Dropping the curtain
On matters of fact
This tax-dodging fraud
Has stolen from you
So what makes you think
You're a part of his coup
This billion-airhead
Makes no cents at all
He speaks his small mind
Behind a big wall
This nuclear bomb
To diplomacy's voice
Aborting the right
To democracy's choice
This false god complex
Disguises his devil
Deceptions to drag us
Back down to his level
This Molotov cocktail
In Putin's back pocket
His greedy heart froze
In a cold-plated locket
This coal-blackened soul
Toxic demagogue
Keeps poisoning us
By spewing speech-smog
This climate change hoax
Outweighs all the lies
Deny this one truth
And everyone dies
This you're fired show
Outsources our trust
To Chinese steel towers
Of slave-labor rust
This loaded handgun
To sanity's head
Depravity bullets
Promoting bloodshed
This locker room talk
This all Muslim ban
This election is rigged
This ******* madman
This antithesis
Of all we stand for
Great from our first steps
Onto Liberty's shore
So I beg of you now
Vote him off of the stage
This dog's had his day
Put him back in his cage
This nation was founded
By working together
And those who attempt
To divide us shall never
Condemn our ideals
To an amoral fate
Lest we forget
That love always trumps hate
Oct 28, 2016
Oct 28, 2016 at 2:52 AM UTC
I wanted to undress you
I wanted you to crawl like a tigress
I wanted you to show me the danger
I wanted to **** you
I wanted to see you dance in strawberry orchard
I wanted to here you moan
I wanted to see a red strawberry griped to your lips
I wanted to exchange vow of silence
I wanted to see you become buoyant
I wanted you to say 'Fuck me more'
I wanted you to fill what words can not fill
I wanted to you be amoral over the codes
I wanted you to flourish like a red poppy
I wanted you to walk with me side by side
I wanted to teach you green, red and blue, black and white
I wanted the strawberry to remark our day
I wanted to see your smile and **** walk
I wanted you to be me
I wanted you to have big eyes
I wanted you
I wanted the whole you
© shanikayrs
Feb 4, 2017
Feb 4, 2017 at 4:40 AM UTC
Amoral critic's slander me,
None extricate anaology,
Remonstration I do not forwait!!!
Respite me revered ******
Maudlin Utopian,
Solely narcotic!!!!
I shake just to feel thine presence!!!!
Snug house,
Picket white fence,
With willow to sway the gale!!!!!
A pint of ale,
Of ourn holy concoction,
Space and time conjunction!!!
Paddling with ourn adulation,
Pure infatuation,
Weaved in by auspicious voliton!!!
TREPIDATION!!!!!!
Speeds up this schoolboy gusto,
For mine needing's and wanting's groan,
For the satin laced imaginative figure!!!
Jun 1, 2015
Jun 1, 2015 at 7:22 PM UTC
Everything was as it
always was, nothing had changed –
youth sleuthing through
the heightened wet,
light gracing stonetop,
and a pillowed streak
on western sky –
and as before,
sun corrals light –
amoral, though not abnormal
but for
its leaning
on my weathered
heart
Jan 18, 2013
Jan 18, 2013 at 8:46 PM UTC
So the time has now come
It's over for you
You're gonna be gone
And there's nothing to do
You always loved hate
You never were known
To be the very best
And you've certainly shown
That your evils and wrongs
Can never be ceased
Always turn the living
Into the deceased
And though it's amoral
And never corrective
I fell it's important
To be reflective
Of a dead lack of mercy
And an ignorance of shame
So that you may be ended
And formally defamed
So here I stand
And not a moment too soon
A squeeze of the trigger
You begin to swoon
You buckle your knees
And fall to the ground
I rise up and scream
"Eternally bound!"
Jan 2, 2013
Jan 2, 2013 at 6:04 PM UTC
i have come to learn that time and time again,
power is grasped by those amoral;
he who holds the sword hides the pen.
we hold the true potential; women and men.
though truth is hidden by those immortal.
i have come to learn that time and time again.
authority: the ultimate carcinogen.
left for dead, the immoral.
he who holds the sword hides the pen.
their mastery beyond my ken,
kept in the shadows, a mortal.
i have come to learn that time and time again.
rise to power, my kin.
take what you were given: a morsel.
he who holds the sword hides the pen.
a revolt comes as punishment, then.
scrawled with ink: a mural.
i have come to learn that time and time again,
he who holds the sword hides the pen.
Nov 13, 2015
Nov 13, 2015 at 1:39 PM UTC
It is commonly known
That THEY CAN NEVER KEEP IT REAL
from the most powerful man in the world
publicly revealed as ' a racist, a con-man and a cheat'
to the ***** scroungers and thieves in Bow, East London
it's inherited common traits in all of them from low to high
History holds a million tales
of, their LIES, DECEIT, THEFTS, HATE and VIOLENCE
Crooks, chancers, unscrupulous merchants blazing false trails
Conning and stupefying, misappropriating, stealing and looting
Sowing lies and discontents, dividing and ruling in murky fashion
without a pang of conscience they steal and destroy with a pale smile
With glib sharp tongues and dead eyes
and SOULLESS, IMMORAL, AMORAL, DEVIOUS and RUTHLESS
they manipulate, cajole, dance with satan and would sell their mums
as long as they have control, all elses are below and there're profits in
It's all about them and the world and all in it was made to serve them
because they know how to LIE. CON, HATE, STEAL, **** FOOL
and
NEVER KEEP IT REAL
Feb 28, 2019
Feb 28, 2019 at 8:39 AM UTC
Speeding up
Gaining ground
What's amiss
Amoral sound
Can't keep
Up but
I went
Ahead,
Now it's
just you
not Me
instead.
Jun 9, 2016
Jun 9, 2016 at 2:49 AM UTC
Inasmuch I had found confort
within a self unbeknown,
inasmuch I had found peace
within solitude of reality,
I sought objective truth above all
to cure mine ailing curiosity.
Be it I suffer more tomorrow.
Be it mine eyes see darkness
in the light of truth.
I have discovered the device of mine own undoing mayhaps.
For under further introspection,
the reality of the self has become falsified.
The belief of joy as divine?
A mere chemical addiction.
The concept of deity?
A mere pretense of faith.
The mechanics of value dissected,
exposing their arbitrary innards.
For more unwelcome as it may be,
ironic at its purest, the deeper I dig,
the more grave it comes to be.
The more literality I come to accept,
the less literate I come to be.
Washing off all purity
after affirming my sins,
my being becomes one with nature;
realizing the amoral animal within.
Within...
Albeit a minor change animate.
Albeit a subtle suggestion of expression,
or so I had thought.
Now stripped internally
of the faulty concepts:
of the subjective meaning,
of the unobtainable purpose,
of the illusionary empathy,
of the misguided sympathy--
Constructs now ****** and broken for their purpose within.
Constructs antagonized for their naughtness without.
Naught of important significance.
Culling of transcendent thought
unto an impulsive materialism.
nothing more than what is observed
shall be of any use to me.
I am enlightened.
And the price of this enlightenment?...
Only my soul.
Nov 30, 2019
Nov 30, 2019 at 7:49 AM UTC
lonely willows shivering in
the holy ether of wind
baubles hang and chime like
honey filling ear
drums
a convulsion of dreams
atonement for the muzzled
fornicator of reality
where men hacksaw
their legends from the
fabric of truth
purger themselves from
pulpits of egocentric
alters
carnivores of praise and
self-adulation
i want the humble salt
of hope, the naked and nervous
courage of overt happiness
and its ambition
i need fertile gardens
growing the seeds of humanities
gentler hearts, loftier ideals
not these amoral molten mouths
spewing ashes for symbols,
selling peepshows to win loyal
martyrs to empty causes,
bleaker ends
dreams are for the willows
i'll shiver no more
chiming only of my vision
suckling the honey of my own
bees
now...
how to walk like thunder?
talk like light?
live like the rivers,
who've drank all the rain?
Apr 12, 2017
Apr 12, 2017 at 7:43 PM UTC