"immorally" poems
I was sexually abused when I was a child,
the only light at the end of that tunnel,
is that it wasn’t done,
by a family member,
but it was done,
and I don’t even remember,
as much as Christine Blasey Ford does,
nor have I ever had to testify,
all I remember was the taste of that ****
and how it taste like buried secrets,
the way they ferment and rot,
when lodged in the gut and not allowed to surface,
see we’ve all been abused,
and not a single one of us deserved it,
so now we serve this life sentence of guilty regret-ness,
which in turn as positioned me in service,
oh America The Beautiful,
when did we become so broken,
everyone’s got a story,
of either being abused or abusing,
watched the Judge Kavanaugh hearing,
watched Dr. Christine struggle to retell her tale,
under the glaring lights of the TV cameras,
under the glaring stare of a bunch of older white males,
I mean let’s put it into perspective,
here is a lady who’s held this secret for years,
and then in an instant she was broadcast worldwide,
for the whole world to hear,
her life will never be the same,
she’s admitted her most private moments to the public,
and all because to the highest court in the country,
this demon from her past is about to be appointed,
and I don’t know what my point is,
maybe I don’t have one,
like a lonely kid,
who’s only role model is a fictional superhero,
because he doesn’t have an honorable father,
a lonely kid,
who’s only friend is his pet dog,
that he takes faithfully with him,
we he goes on walks just to get lost,
doesn’t have a destination,
still he feels like he’s in a rush,
can’t focus his attention and is always impatient,
and don’t know where to go and only wants to find the love,
and when he tries to speak up to tell someone what’s up,
he’s just dismissed as ignorant and told to hush,
and what does it mean when a ****** predator,
has the title of Judge,
how can someone that acts so immorally,
be put in a position to weigh the scales of justice evenly,
maybe there’s no right and wrong anyways,
maybe nothing is for certain and there are no guarantees,
maybe,
maybe not,
but I do know one thing for certain,
wherever I go the trauma from my past is brought,
because I was sexually abused when I was a child,
and the only light at the end of that tunnel,
is that it wasn’t done,
by a family member…
∆ LaLux ∆
Sep 28, 2018
Sep 28, 2018 at 9:22 PM UTC
You call it how you see it
And I can’t say I blame you
You put me in a state of disorder
So of course, chaos ensued
Now everything is warped, distorted, upside-down
An unnatural wrongness in vice
Imbalance of the gunas
Delusion has its price
I find myself guilty of
Sleeping during the vibrant sun,
Blind faith, self-destruction
And ultimate non-conformity
But I never meant to act unreligious
Never meant to cause disharmony
Never meant to act with self-praise
Never meant to act immorally
Contrary to the laws of the planet,
I embrace self-rejection
But should this terrible reversal of order
Be considered evil?
Oct 11, 2013
Oct 11, 2013 at 10:47 AM UTC
Lippy Dippy the hippie,
Always so much to say.
Protesting, picketing
Never quite gets his way.
So much about us
The world and how it runs.
Someone to carry a sign?
Lippy Dippy is the one.
He started out with war
Calling out President LBJ.
The issues kept happening
Up to and including today.
Lippy and his hippie cohorts
Protested for human rights
Whether it be about gays
Or brown, black or white.
Get him and friends arrested?
That just may have to be
As long as law and lawyers
Practice their legal infamy.
He reminds of Dred Scott
And how the law of the land
Immorally took the freedom
And dignity of that poor man.
Too little water here
Too much water over there?
Veterans getting gypped?
See if anybody ever cares.
Lippy Dippy and friends
Will gladly show up at your place
And show you what you are;
Bad example of the human race.
Oh, they made fun of him
They called him many names
Including Dippy, so unkind
But it gave him a kind of fame.
It would be nice if maybe someday
There were no need for him.
Unless things change someway
The hope of that is very dim.
So, he and others like him
Which will, of course, include me
With stand up and protest
As long as we citizens are free
To gather publically and say
This sort of situation is wrong,
Then Lippy Dippy and the rest
Will come sing our protest songs.
Oct 16, 2015
Oct 16, 2015 at 10:14 PM UTC
In life, I thought I had everything,
The answers of the heart were lost;
I idolized the women of my dream,
But Christ had paid the ultimate cost.
Not by bread alone,
Shall I live a life again…
I manipulated other as well as myself,
The child of a King behaved so immorally;
Putting the fear of God second to all else,
I started to talk of Him without any loyalty.
Not by bread alone,
Shall I speak of life within…
Man cannot live by bread alone,
We need the true bread of life;
The world was saved by our own
Lord and Savior, Jesus the Christ.
So I will not do it,
By not bread alone…
I have stolen from the holy storehouse,
By not bothering to even tithe in truth;
Cheerful giving is the least man endows
For complete salvation in living proof.
Not by bread alone,
Shall I eat once more…
Hatred I felt for my own brothers,
As I slowly learned really to absolve;
Jesus manifested genuinely to others
Unanimity is how Christians evolved.
Not by bread alone,
Shall I be like before…
Man cannot live by bread alone,
We need the true bread of life;
The world was saved by our own
Lord and Savior, Jesus the Christ.
So I will not do it,
By not bread alone…
Jan 31, 2014
Jan 31, 2014 at 12:45 PM UTC
Like the back of a cart during the bubonic plague,
I’d have to say a dead mans story is long,
But very vague,
As we learn little from the lessons of history,
We treat is as an obsolete and unsaid sort of mystery.
The difference between black and white,
A bird in seat or flight,
A tense and dangerous human right,
As if as much as we can see,
Is the boundary of our site;
If we treat each other as we would like to be treated;
Why does a teacher tell us to remain seated?
They don’t say sit back and relax in any context,
Instead they emphasize not to use bad words or obscene text.
Am I not allowed to tell you to sit down?
Tell you I owe you nothing but a respectable frown?
I owe you nothing but decency,
Not a mind filled with verbs in which I hope others translate boundlessly.
To say I sleep with a pillow,
Is like saying I steep tea like I reap benefits from the luxuries,
Of today’s modern cars and inventions.
To assume I immorally influence a young child in growth,
Is like assuming I don’t walk the sidewalk to remain safe,
From the wind of wild traffic to my left and to my right,
Or to say we don’t disobey ancient conventions,
In which mankind is barred from flight.
Between SpaceX and NASDAQ,
And the jealous old man named NASA,
“Good Wall Street” ain’t looked at,
As the media keeps its mind where its eyes remain fixed;
On the flaws and the findings,
The wars and the signings,
The fear of dead children whose pics we find blinding.
The new Rules of Engagement,
Angers militaristics in danger,
Of bullets and shrapnel they volunteered to go face;
They are angry at the awareness created by J. Assange,
When ****** was collateral damage, to which they are fond;
It’s strange, as truth is now treason,
And a man needs a reason,
To liberate information we deserved in the first place,
Yet our apathy, indifference, and anger at ourselves,
Commits us to a stage of denial within book-shelves,
Inside which we fear ‘it,’
We fear ‘them,’
And ‘their’ ****
Yet we hallow the ground in our mind in which we hide action;
For we fear that we’ll be charged for our thinking’s infractions.
Please reassure me that I’m free,
And that I am my own faction.
Dec 12, 2010
Dec 12, 2010 at 4:22 PM UTC
Small waist, thick thighs...
But I'm stuck with just having; nice eyes.
Long hair perfect skin.
I'm here trying to just get thin.
Society praises the perfect woman.
Although they only exist in magazines.
We Photoshop, nip, tuck, and torture our bodies.
Because we are objects boys just want to ****
I want to change this stereo type of what a woman is.
We are not objects here because guys cant just use there ***** to take a wiz.
When we act with in the lines of society it changes our morals.
We act immorally because that's what they expect.
Guys face stereo types as well but are told to ignore them.
As girls we are told to embrace them.
How can we not with main stream celebrities flaunting there bodies.
Tall, short, skinny thick.
There's more than one model so just take that in.
Bitten nails, long hair.
The stereo types of perfection are not fair.
Girls mutilate to be perfect...I think its time we stand up and care.
We come in many shapes and sizes...so why do we make one mold?
We need to embrace the differences because if were all the same.
Don't you think it might; get old?
Dec 8, 2016
Dec 8, 2016 at 4:52 PM UTC
My heart trembled immorally as she undressed.
While slowly removing her stockings she smiled,
and foxily met my haunted, bewitched gaze.
"Isn't this your dream?", she seductively inquired.
Reckoning with my wicked sin I unwillingly yielded.
Lust had consumed us both, corrupting us.
Entranced she fell into my arms, moaning.
"I can't", teary-eyed I objected to no avail.
Stunned and dismayed she gathered her resentful self.
"I thought you wanted me", she objected.
I can't, couldn't, and wouldn't.
Could you?
Feb 22, 2017
Feb 22, 2017 at 4:05 PM UTC
Normality
Is how he stays
Awake and warm
Coated in the
Sticky sweat and
Grimed residue
From thoughts of you
The touch he craves
He can picture and
Violate your
Pure young image
Immorally
Is how my mind
Stays plagued with
A cloud of love
Wispy and soft
Adoration
From thoughts of you
Attentions craved
I can’t wish for
One **** handhold
It is a sin
Perhaps this is
Insanity
Feb 1, 2012
Feb 1, 2012 at 10:44 PM UTC
Immorally, my lustful gaze eyes in a false bid to need you
Unappeased from the respites of my attempts to dream you
And in my efforts, I’ve still yet to ascertain my conviction to find you
But until then, an entire sense devoted to imagination to taste you
However, taste is a mean fraction of my malicious, intent to use you
And in a blinded craving, good intentions eluded, will involuntarily scar you
In a perverted aim to behold and savor you, to protect, enjoy and **** you
Is the beginning of my undoing, as I callously sin again and again, and break you
And then with no further defense but to erase you,
and politely in my heart, I move bitterly to bury you,
I return fruitlessly to the beginning again, to need you.
© 2014
Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 5:33 AM UTC
an opening of eyes
immorally structured lenses lay upon the bridge of your nose
fogging the areas between right and wrong
you still seem to find a place for me
Jan 30, 2016
Jan 30, 2016 at 1:53 PM UTC
Dens, devils dark alleys
Apart from the quiet disco beats
The house-techno-electronics melodic
Or timbres of the naughty riddims rhythmic
And the dim coloured alternating disco-lights
Else, Dens are blurry dark
With all addicts-of *** narcos or gins
In there no one sees no one
Just the silent talks of sins around
The usual businesses brought them there
In the mixture of multicoloured lights
So no one will talk of anyone once lights returns
Yet they shared something in common
A gal maybe, a cocoa puff or a shisha vapour!
A cigar smoke or a ***** tot and danced it ***** to dawn
In there are naked nudes-
Dames as well as few muscled-dudes
Teasing silent seated decent dressed
Stripping, selling their worth or wealth
To these willingly seriously immerged
In the occults of the immoral ****
Some are seductively rolling with the podium poles
Their greased groins incised on it metallic luster
Grating-grinding-dancing dirtily down
Its silvery smoothness in timed tempting
Slow spicy synchronic, slutty slides
Watching the salivating seated
Erotically elated shift in their chairs
Some, skimpily skinned are snaking their boneless bodies up-down
In caressing zigzags of mastered dancers ***** arts
Immorally exposing their mostly expensive parts in bits
To tempt and trap these blind corrupted moths in their Lucifer’s lights
Forcing them to dig deeper their posh pockets to pay to be bemused
Business here is crooked, dark!
Like ***** and her Gomorrah
Or Tyre and her Sidon
It begins with the fall of the night:
The extinguishing of the day's light
And ends with moments to dawn’s bright
In there all night are all dealers of immoralities
Of dark arts, of *** or of drugs
Goons as well as criminals of government deals
And the corrupt business billionaires sandwiched
Richly enjoying the **** of the sinfulness-
Sharing, wasting, the rapacious richness
Of their easily gained supernormal profits
On these salacious naked nudes, free to feel
In there in the masquerade of these rainbow lights
No one sees no one, no one will say of anyone
Just cash exchanges hands
You got it, you get what you need
All the services you want-its all at your watch
With just a snap of the finger, all easily you acquire
You are the master, everyone else your servant slave-
At your disposal to your utmost attendance
© Kìùra Kabiri. All rights reserved.
Mar 27, 2017
Mar 27, 2017 at 5:05 AM UTC