"assailant" poems
Upward-curled, gleam of white
But as yet, something missing
“I swear, I’m quite alright!”
My wonder turns to stressing.
Is she really quite alright?
No-one wears their shoes,
Socks upon the carpet
Browning fog turning loose,
But purple mist diffuses.
Is she really quite alright?
My wonder turns to worried health,
I turn my focus to myself,
I pull a beer down from the shelf,
Indulging still our failing health,
She smiles, as if to say that she’s alright.
Trading sweat between our hands,
A greeting shared from man to man
We speak ambition, WE ARE PROUD
Our cigarettes, they make no sound.
They know that it will soon be their turn.
To be or not… I have forgot.
Our wasteland, wasted, seems alright
It skips my mind I’m all I’ve got
I’ve never put up much a fight
I hope I’ll quickly be all right.
But there are NO PROMISES
And no safe-houses.
smoke arouses surety,
But holds the door for vanity.
But as for me,
I highly doubt she's feeling free.
Charging, useless, up the hill,
The last endeavor of it's kind,
Cry peace, peace, but peace is killed,
Fulfill the end of southern mind.
There is no way that she's okay.
As men in grey
Lay on the ground
Bleeding with untempered sound
I cast my eyes about the house
I find her broken, fading lips
Pressed limp against assailant’s kiss
Those pearls that were
Her sentient eyes,
They cast upon me smiling sighs
She clings the arm of shifty eyes
And leaves the party, new inside.
And now I know she’s not alright.
But then again, nor am I.
Sep 30, 2014
Sep 30, 2014 at 7:20 PM UTC
Unheard
She screams as she struggles
The sound of her cries muffled
Her assailant's eyes look baffled
Her red eyes cry, her sobs stiffled
She tries to run but she is stopped
To the ground she is tackled
Her effort to run is attacked
And to the floor she is dropped
She tried to fight, she did, she tried!
She cried too much, she did, she cried!
She aimed to bite, oh yes, she did!
But the result she got was not what she bid
She wanted to hide, but all that was hid
Was only just this evil deed
An evil deed, indeed it was
An evil deed that no one saw
Evil as it was, no one saw
If someone had seen, she would cry no more
But at present her pride was no more
May 28, 2023
May 28, 2023 at 4:45 PM UTC
Dilapidated,
I hang on the precipice of perdition.
My lacerated synapses,
struggle to usurp the assailant
who created my beautiful crimson demise.
I'm weary of being ostensibly content,
with all of this malice and prating that enshrouds me.
Lets not mask this with useless euphemism.
I'll make this as equivocal as I can.
Its time for this dalliance to end.
Its time I end my diminutive existence.
Dec 22, 2011
Dec 22, 2011 at 11:49 PM UTC
By lovely harbor you sang, brisk and clever.
Let me have this one thing, forever.
Never my love?
Or do I mean assailant.
Bubble no more, your dreams are ever present.
Aug 9, 2011
Aug 9, 2011 at 1:51 AM UTC
Tonight I dream of spiders
Hair spun, fat filled, scuttling legs
Quiver over my body and thighs
Eyes, ears, mouth, a tongue
A taste perforates through my eyes
Spills into my skull
Splat, Slash, Splot
Scuttle
Tonight I dream of Isolation
My footsteps fall on empty ears
Searching for life
Fearful, Tearful
Ripe with Strife
What does this matter?
I cannot be seen.
Unhear my own quiet screams
Please,
I want to
I need to
unhear.
Tonight I dream of running
An unseen assailant
I know, wishes to
attempt on me harm
You can't be calm
I can't, You can't
I Must
You mustn't provoke me.
I wake reaching
Reaching
Reaching
I find nothing
But empty solace.
Tonight I dream of fighting
Clockwork childhood
Figures slicing at my
face, racing me
to death.
A metal axe, a clawed
arm, walls with eyes,
a broken staircase,
distorted laugh, a
past repeated.
'Treated' to terror
remember me
dismember me
tenderly
race me
erase
me
I can't seem to wake up.
Jan 11, 2014
Jan 11, 2014 at 7:43 PM UTC
When I was stationed at Enoggera, as a young platoon sergeant with 9 RAR, a Merino ram was offered, and accepted, as the Battalion mascot. The diggers called him Stan. The brigade RSM of the time was outraged because he viewed our adoption of Stan as a direct and improper play on his surname, which was Lamb. And, of course, he being as bald as a coot the diggers called him Curly. As I recall, Stan was a lively, ill disciplined beast with little respect for the niceties of service life, hence:
When Stan-the-Ram met Curly Lamb a fracas did ensue.
For Curly stood beside the road just outside B.H.Q.;
His Sam Brown belt so shiny, his pace-stick 'neath one arm,
The RSM of our brigade was used to war's alarm.
But Stan, although a raw recruit and barely chewing grass,
Unimpressed by Curly, charged and knocked him on his ****
"It's contact rear" cried Curly, as he struggled to his feet,
Turned about with arms akimbo his assailant for to meet.
Meanwhile Stan's poor handler looked ready to desert
'cos Stan-the-Ram whilst in his care had Curly eating dirt.
I guess he felt embarrassed, which was natural, wouldn't you?
If involved in such a fracas outside of BHQ.
Your questions are but natural and in answer I can swear,
As these events unfolded I was marching off the square.
Having Just dismissed defaulters I was feeling rather mean
But my despondency was lifted by that ****** glorious scene.
And in the mess that evening rang out laughter clear and loud,
For I'd told them all my story and of Stan we felt quite proud.
There was Sutherland and Massingham, and Peter Cowan too
And Tim Daly called **** Gordon from his room, well, wouldn't you?
And when **** heard my story he poured port into a glass,
And we drank a toast to Stanly putting Curly on his ****
Mar 10, 2019
Mar 10, 2019 at 1:45 AM UTC
We live in a society that is reluctant to hold individuals accountable for their actions.
They did this to him because of his smile.
They did this to him because he was in the bar bathroom a long while.
They did this to him because of his clothing style.
The environment can create stimuli and stressors which trigger predispositions.
Predispositions of behavioral tendencies to make bad decisions.
They did this to her because they saw it on TV.
They did this to her because nothing comes for free...
or at least easy.
They did this to her because of how they were raised by mommie.
However, at the end of the day, you have ****** autonomy.
Physically responsible for your own actions,
you have damaged another human...
being.
You don't want to accept you could do something so heinous to another human's ****
or ******
Morally responsible to actively educate,
yourself.
How to live in a world with other humans whom differ from you.
People who you may not completely understand.
She said no, but things happened so fast.
Kept go-ing on, not for long he didn't last.
He might have been interested at the start of the night,
but wasn't trying to be perceived as putting up a fight,
resisting what his assailant created, his forever tragic night.
I'm not big on the concept of 'deviant behaviors' or 'social taboos.'
Certain things however, you should know what to do.
We violate others' rights, freedoms, privileges, happiness, mental stability, and personal well being.
And For What?
It doesn't matter if you're gay, like metal music, or get drunk, because
We can't blame the color gray.
not tomorrow nor today.
Don't sit, just stand, get up and say.
Advocate that **** is wrong every innocent second of each precious day.
more clearly defined, not merely social constructs within a particular society.
Long story short; **** is Wrong. Get and Give Consent. Be Safe as well.
Jan 3, 2014
Jan 3, 2014 at 1:46 PM UTC
I thought you'd always have my back
"Till the end of time," we'd say
I believed it until you proved me wrong that day
How foolish of me...
Your man tried to set me up with his friend
I didn't want to, but I didn't want to be rude
That was my downfall in the end.
You left us alone, and he thought the fun had just begun
I kept saying no but had nowhere to run
We played this game of cat and mouse.
All around the comfort of your house
I couldn't escape; I kept saying no
He would stop for a minute, then continue to go
He kept touching me and violating my body and space
When I told you, you said, "that can't be the case."
At one point, you both said to him,
"You're lucky it happened to her and not somebody else, cause she has people who can vouch for you.
Otherwise you could have a charge put on you."
That statement shattered an already broken soul.
I don't feel lucky at all.
I was never asked or given the option to press charges; the decision was made for me.
They tried to say, "He's a good guy," and "I've known him for 15 years; he's not an animal."
The experience I had with him is he assaulted me.
He groped, touched and tried to force himself onto me.
For hours after, I constantly said no.
I can't just let that go.
Just because he didn't **** me doesn't mean the trauma of the assault is lessened.
It felt as if you were both protecting my assailant.
More than you were protecting me.
I didn't ask for this to happen
I didn't deserve this.
You both said you'd cut him off
But you told him you'd only distance yourself for "a bit."
That feels like you spit in my face
You're still both friends on Facebook.
I can't even stand to look.
You said you'd have my back till the end of time.
Turns out you meant
Until your boyfriend's friend
Assaulted me.
– Protecting my Assailant // F.C.
Jul 20, 2021
Jul 20, 2021 at 4:02 PM UTC
He came in from the dark of the monsoon of his soul
and pondered how he drifted so far from land
desecration and destruction…torment and anguish
waiting on the other side, hoping I’d find it but praying I don’t
fear, hopelessness and all that appears
statements of contracts entering the room
screaming, “not today, tormenter”
“not today”…
And so he becomes me in thought and despair
waiting for the turn, the moment of truth
until I and me combine with him and he
shuttering, tossing my food, crying inside
traffic jams in my mind due to congestion
wailing to my assailant, “not yet”,
I’m here to stay
“not quite yet”…
Finally, night becomes dawn in the recess of my heart
fluttering amongst the flowers, plants, and trees
those swaying trees of time and wonder
fate hanging on by a thumbnail and a prayer
receiving and sending love from heaven
in the form of a lightning bolt, a rainbow
believing at the end, “I’m free to be”
knowing “I’m free at last”…
Sep 7, 2012
Sep 7, 2012 at 4:44 PM UTC
☼
As all the fury of the sun was put inside the moon
The sky was lit, a starry sight, a petrified maroon
And now the dark is like the light, the earth is spinning still
The people go in circles too, their sleepy heads to fill
And all the voices gather up as language is explained
The mystery that once had been is openly disdained
Familiar now and understood, the bitten tongue will bleed
The zealous cell in every drop is coming out of me
I put it back inside my mouth and fight to keep it closed
But there is no assailant here, I'm already exposed
The sun is night, the moon is day, confusion - rationale
And be there blood among the two, it spilleth all around
☽
Sep 3, 2013
Sep 3, 2013 at 11:45 AM UTC
Drifting on my bark from rise until set
Shifting through the clouds where our eyes first met
When Icarus' assailant meets the same demise
That is the time my love shall be in the skies
I wait and hope and pray and sing
Because nothing compares to the love she brings
No fate can tether me from her, not even the strongest tide
Ripping me from this terra firma shell will only bring me closer to her in strides
Every moment I have with her is savoury, short, and sweet
If you want to keep me from her, you better bring an entire fleet
She kisses my wounds and tells me everything will be alright
"Don't fill with fear even if the sun is too bright."
But I can see it in her eyes she knows this vessel will not last
If you think I'm referring to my boat, may I refer you to my past
One last wink as she sinks back into the water
I can still hear her prayers echoing to protect me from the sun's slaughter
But being Captain Otter, you aren't known for peace
Considering I'm dragging a few foes across the coral reef.
Facing each day as if it's death I'm about to greet
I mind it not, because there is someone above I'd rather meet
Until that day arrives I'll enjoy this constant strife
Because yoho, it's the pirate's life.
Nov 17, 2013
Nov 17, 2013 at 2:02 AM UTC
They run.
They scream.
They beg for help.
Their homes are burned.
The women are *****
The children are tortured.
Everyone is killed.
A savior amidst the government and yet her lips sit on top of each other, only opening to condemn the persecuted Rohingya...
A Nobel Peace Prize winner revealing herself as an assailant of ethics.
The Rohingya.
The humans denied aid by almost every brother and sister,
THOUSANDS of men, women, children,
are drowning, burning, pleaing for mercy,
as you sit in your comfy chair and read this poem,
as i sit in this bed writing this poem.
The Rohingya are looking into the eyes of a Buddhist state;
looking down the barrel of a gun pointed at them from infancy.
An entire culture dedicated to dehumanizing humans...
An entire coalition of states conforming to locking the Rohingya out...
A state committing textbook genocide.
A world subduing to textbook ignorance.
And the Rohingya fighting for the right to live
For the right to be
Human
The Rohingya must not flee, nor fear persecution, for We shall stand by the Rohingya!
Sep 17, 2017
Sep 17, 2017 at 10:59 PM UTC
(by Bruce Bawer)
In Sønderberg the other day
A teenage girl used pepper spray
To rout a randy “refugee”
From somewhere far across the sea
Who threw down and molested her.
The cops arrested her.
As part of a jihadist plot,
A brute assailant took a shot
At a fine Copenhagen man
Who'd deprecated the Quran.
When the brave soul who'd nearly died
Then publicly identified
The **** who'd tried to **** him, he
Was charged with grave delinquency:
Breaching privacy.
In Mölndal, a Somali teen
Plunged a long blade into the spleen
Of a young Swedish altruist
Who'd yearned to do one thing: assist.
The land's top cop went on TV
And trumpeted his sympathy.
For the poor girl who'd lost her life?
No. For the kid with the knife.
At one time it was understood
That a devotion to the good
Didn't mean one should be blind
To evil, or pretend to find
Some virtue in sheer villainy.
To see what isn't there to see
Is not a sign of rectitude.
To point out evil isn't rude;
To fight it is good.
You can't, however hard you try,
Mistake for a speck in the eye
A loaded *** in the hands
Of some rough beast from foreign sands
Intent on taking out a child.
You'll win no points for being mild
To members of a desert creed
That seeks to make the heathen bleed
And preaches that the kind and meek
Are contemptibly weak.
Christ said to turn the other cheek.
But what if it's not just your cheek?
Feb 20, 2016
Feb 20, 2016 at 1:58 PM UTC
From the courtyard far below
We all heard the woman scream.
Faces at the windows saw
The masked assailant stalk his prey.
“Stop that”, someone shouted down.
but none went to the woman’s aide.
Not even did we call police
while she still might have been saved.
She screamed for help but no help came,
Her hands bled from defensive wounds.
Her killer made a final ******
And she folded in a swoon.
He grabbed her purse which was the prize
And left her in the courtyard, dead
Her name was Kitty Genovese
A pretty girl, the tabloids said.
A moment in a City’s life-
Not a source of civic pride
Glad she was not a child of mine
Did you watch the night that Kitty died?
Jan 17, 2012
Jan 17, 2012 at 9:28 PM UTC
Met Kali today on a descending escalator at the Galleria. Her six arms juggled assorted shopping bags, purse, cell phone, three children, and a fourth in a stroller clearly not hers. I stepped down in front to help balance her baby buggy. No sooner had I reached out for the rubber bumper that I felt lash of her tongue against my cheek. It was hot and frothy, smelled like a tall, non-fat latte with caramel drizzle, and quickly wrung itself around my neck. I was soon dangling from the precipice of an oversized potted fern where I had been perched by my assailant, high above the food court. I dangled dangerously as I saw chinks of chain giving way. The glass ceiling was begining to crack and about to cave in on me. I swung out and with all agility I could muster, landed in the Bagel Nosh's assorted schmears. Hisses and jeers decried. An angry mob of mothers chased me to the nearest exit. I almost didn't make it out alive.
Mar 17, 2016
Mar 17, 2016 at 11:25 AM UTC
Searched for razor sharp teeth
To tear at my benevolent heart
But my monster
Never hid under my bed
Or rested in my head
His disguise was a smile
Stitched
To perfection
Searched for the man in a mask
To raid me
But he never stole anything tangible
Or that could be replaced
His camaflouge skin was
Stretched over
Empty bones
I searched for signs
Yellow like the sun
Caution
But my assailant
Looks just like
You and I
Oct 4, 2014
Oct 4, 2014 at 3:56 PM UTC
come out come out - stop whispering my name
i cannot keep going on the borderline of sane
i cannot pretend that i want to play your game
i cannot believe what my eyes do not sustain
come out come out - stop shadowing your name
you cannot just stand there and hide beside your shame
you cannot belittle me against your naked frame
you cannot convince me that I am just the same
come out come out, i know you want to stay
but if you do i'm certain i will never see your face
i'll amount to nothing while you eat up all my grace
and let you make a home in me to fill the empty space
Sep 20, 2012
Sep 20, 2012 at 3:35 PM UTC
From the courtyard far below
We all heard the woman scream.
Faces at the windows saw
The masked assailant stake his prey.
“Stop that”, someone shouted down.
but none went to the woman’s aide.
Not even did we call police
while she still might have been saved.
She screamed for help but no help came,
Her hands bled from defensive wounds.
Her killer made a final ******
And she folded in a swoon.
He grabbed her purse which was the prize
And left her in the courtyard, dead
Her name was Kitty Genovese
A pretty girl, the tabloids said.
A moment in a City’s life-
Not a source of civic pride
Glad she was not a child of mine
Did you watch the night that Kitty died?
Nov 25, 2011
Nov 25, 2011 at 1:19 PM UTC
To Brock Turner
Who they call "ex-swimmer"
"All-American"
"Former athlete"
Who I call ******
Assailant
Attacker.
I know they've made excuses for you
For your entire life
You're a daddy's boy, Brock
As he didn't think twenty minutes of action
Constitutes twenty years of punishment
But when the one you hunted wakes up
Choking on the memories you planted in her head
When she still feels the pine needles stabbing her neck
Even once they are gone
Will your father defend her?
You see, she doesn't have the luxury to get off for good behavior
In five, or ten, or twenty years
Or in your case, six months
No jury decides her fate
You already did that, Brock
And I'm sure she was not the only one
Who else's life sentence was issued by you?
How many other women were ripped from their bodies
By your hungry hands and shredding teeth?
When I get angry that you
And my own attacker
Had excuses handed to you like face cards
Because you both were young
Because you were smarter than this
Because you made a mistake
Because your future is more important than mine
I am told to stop being an angry feminist *****
Stop burning my bra and burning bridges
With men who might actually want me close.
I, the angry feminist ***** push people away
Because
I , the angry feminist *****
am tired of men going to feminist rallies and making **** jokes in the same 24 hours
am tired of men who I've known for years trapping me in a stairwell because I will be their next piece of prey
am tired of men who are the face of male feminism treating women like clothing they can throw away when they get bored
With that,
I am reminded that it is a man's world
and I am no more than a passerby
My outrage cannot change how someone feels about my experience
about their experience
about her experience
My outrage will not cause people to hate you, Brock
My outrage can ignite a spark in someone
who is already ****** off
My outrage can inspire someone to use their voice
and another
and another
and another
My outrage can become another voice in a sea of fire that consumes the system which allows
you, Brock,
to mean more than your victim.
My outrage is bursting
and it does not end here.
Jun 6, 2016
Jun 6, 2016 at 10:40 PM UTC
Glamorously she walked out of the bedroom
****** feet on the cold wood ****** floor
She looked through the window;
The window which faces nowhere
In her silent look;
She soliloquized 99 questions, but no one heard
Idea captured her imagination; lightening speed
She is enchanted by his silky voice and craftiness
A face for her he invented
Behind it she died, prayed, lived and died
She wore it so graceful
When she died no one knew she had died twice
Though she is dead, she still lives
Though she is dead, she still speaks
A face with feet walking on eerie Elm Street
Browsing through dark alleys in search for a new client
He is a romantic ******
Silently, he has killed all his prey with one shot
A cut through shot to the heart
Fairest daughter of the King;
Arouse not thy love until it so desires
He is too good to be ignored at first sight
She is struggling to control herself
He came here because of her
She is thinking it’s her moment
The voice in her heart; too loud
She can hardly hear her own voice
Shhhhh…
A silence
A flashback
She recollects mom last words on her dead bed
Out of her purse; a portrait picture she pulled
A perfect image of mom’s assailant is on the dance floor
A walk away to the exit door which leads to destiny; eternity
She was not ashamed losing momentary fame
The long silent walk through the side walk;
A victory lap to the podium for a gold medallion
Copyright 2014:GOG|McDaniels Gyamfi
Apr 15, 2014
Apr 15, 2014 at 11:47 AM UTC
The girl eats me.
She eats my hands.
She starts with the fingers,
and she's quick to the wrist.
The girl beats me.
I can't point to my assailant.
I can't count the days.
She's still at large.
The girl eats me and eats me.
She eats my hands in four bites,
but it takes nine for my face.
She moves like a woodpecker.
The girl beats me and beats me.
I'm too embarrassed to say anything.
I tell my friends that I
fell down the stairs; so clumsy.
The girl eats me and eats me, again.
She chews her food very well.
I cry every time I think about
those teeth and that tongue.
The girl beats me and beats me, again.
Hey take it easy...
One of these days
your really gonna hurt me.
Jan 9, 2017
Jan 9, 2017 at 5:09 PM UTC
The peals of laughter, the smiles
The atmosphere was one of joy and tranquility
Shivers ran up his spine, it disgusted him,
The time had come, the end was near…
The burning desire to evoke pain,
The grave thirst to summon tears.
The murderer’s instinct to ****
The time had come, the end was near…
As the unnoticed silhouette crept by,
Irrevocable, irredeemable, insolent.
The assailant’s eyes filled with ardent desire,
The time had come, the end was near…
The screams, the pain, the sorrow,
The thirst which only tears and blood could quench,
His sole want-terror, his sole weapon-death,
The time had come, the end was here.
Jun 25, 2014
Jun 25, 2014 at 12:29 PM UTC
I am the perfect prey
vulnerable and weak
malleable and persuaded
slow to hear my hunters treading feet
my head is lost in flighty dreams
I will not put up a fight
my eyes are beguiled by the deep hues of lust
they are quick to believe my hunters guise
I am the perfect prey
you will never see me flee
my feet stay rooted, buried in the ground
I am a victim who yearns to be a target
as each assailant feeds one by one
I mourn that I could not give more
shredded by their greedy hunger
clever hunters cannot pass an easy meal
But no one pity’s nature prey
when I was the one designed this way.
Sep 12, 2012
Sep 12, 2012 at 1:59 AM UTC