"infractions" poems
Visibly wholesome with internal infractions
Humans predisposed to fatal attractions
Remain cautious & constantly selective
In a world where hearts are pure but minds are deceptive
The mind screams lust while the heart craves affection
The root of true beauty lies within imperfection
For every blossoming rose, is at least a single thorn
& every heavenly angel has a deeply hidden horn
Thus a man's flaws aren't defined as his impurities
It's the illusion of perfection that equate to his insecurities
Aug 20, 2014
Aug 20, 2014 at 5:24 PM UTC
thus by prosecutor charg-ed, with this crime so heinous~ed,
the judge insisted on a super speedy trial, this, a special case-d
"can't wait to hang this ***** be~deviler,
got me a jail, second only to hell,
if he thinks his hifalutin lawyers will get him de-roped!"
I plead guilty to save the state some moola,
avoid the expense of all the attendant hoopla,
but in my tired defense, I said little but this,
it was god who cursed me with this word-ly power!
now I ain't saying I was naturally bad,
but who are you to judge me so harshly ,
when all I did, with a tool god~given, was,
tell people how beautiful they are, so close.
never far, from bringing them forth to their fruition
so my intentions were good, tho my goose is cooked,
loonily, this I truthfully willingly confess, though just as bad,
I was lazy, I was negligent, I am now hell-bent for many
infractions, the greatest, chiefest of them all, was all the times,
!!!!!
***read a poem much beloved by other's on this blue earth,
weak from jealousy jealous, I never...reposted it! for their way
much better than mine, and I was too selfish to praise them,
so I expect I won't be too lonely in perdition, just another poet***
!!!!!!!! addition
*so children, teach your children well
a poet's hell will slowly go by, if they
fail to repost them hundreds of poems
that mak'em gasp~laugh-just plain weep,
for that will really **** (sorry lord) the one
true judge wh gave us this wordy blessing,
and is eagerly awaiting us special*
sinners
and that just might be my one true name…
(Oh sinner~man!
where are you gonna run too)
[{(]})]
p.s. this poem readily available to be reposted ('jes a 'gestion)
even
plagiarized elsewhere, but remember, when you, who stole it,
somebody's a~watching whose
vision is unimpaired.
plus, I got new software invented by Ai trained teachers,
so so, easy to find ya...
Sep 28, 2025
Sep 28, 2025 at 5:14 PM UTC
I have walked these fields
I have known this land
And though the years have changed the face
The memory still stands
Of a time when things were simpler
Of a time when hope was pure
Of a time when changing weather
Was all of which we were unsure
And I have seen the sun rise
Over fields of green and gold
Now that view is just a memory
And I know I'm getting old
Can it be that earth is failing?
Can it be that light has dimmed?
Can it be that we've abandoned
all the life that we once lived?
Is it any wonder
that our children can't get over
just the smallest of infractions
when the world falls all around them?
For constancy is foreign
in a land of no intentions
where a lost appreciation
for sacredness of life abounds.
I cannot pretend
To understand it all
For as often as I wonder
Equal am I inclined to fall
For I am of a generation
Which forgets itself began,
Wanders aimlessly through atmosphere
And defiles its fellow man
And over weakness, few have triumphed;
Through affliction, few have prevailed
And reverence for creation
Is an instinct we have failed
But our days are not yet over
For this one hope stands unmoved:
We are still formed of the same dust
Whose strength our ancestry has proved.
Is there any remnant
of the spirit deep within us
that might once again remember
the great faith we once achieved?
There is far greater meaning
found in one hopeful sentiment
than in a thousand shouting voices
denying all things once believed.
Jan 15, 2014
Jan 15, 2014 at 10:56 AM UTC
Relegate your thoughts
into the vault.
The mind isn't ready
to deal in absolute.
Banish into oblivion,
untimely discrepancies and faults.
When infractions are unclear
for you to refute.
Consign the arrogance,
into the darkest dark.
Let them fester,
never to see light of day.
Cradle the fear,
nurse it till ripe, engorged and stark.
For everything now lies...
Indefinite and in the grey.
Jun 26, 2016
Jun 26, 2016 at 1:44 PM UTC
You expect me to
Sit here and take it
I sat there for years
Waiting for you
To grow up in some way
To be the man I needed you to be
You yell and scream
At the smallest infractions
You steal away my hope for you
Locking it in a box with your malice
Your love for me
Is gagged by the hate I feel
I know it’s there
Somewhere
But not here
Not now
So yell and scream
I just won’t listen
Anymore
Oct 23, 2012
Oct 23, 2012 at 10:19 AM UTC
picture the pieces of yourself
that you spent hours picking apart
for every flaw and imperfection
for every blemish, every mark.
double them as plasters,
band-aids stuck to shield the wounds
made by your mistakes,
by your infractions.
they weren't good enough.
sticking to your skin
like leaves off branches,
baring crimson and flesh torn open.
Jun 6, 2020
Jun 6, 2020 at 1:39 AM UTC
Got 2 fingers for this night
2 bloodshot eyes on the town's small size.
I'll take this walk on shaky toes,
take 1 more bottle for the icy road.
3 years, 3 months and countless ghosts,
some angry friends, a long walk home.
I stumble down Wyoming Street
and ball 2 fists inside my coat.
Stunted
I tripped while running in place,
bit my tongue and cut my nose up--
****** my pretty, spiteful face.
And I'm just
punting
and slurring while I beg for pardons.
Forgive my weak and sour heart--
didn't mean it
when I said "Goodbye and **** this place."
I'm a werewolf on nights like these--
popping joints and twisting knees,
yellow eyes and dagger teeth;
full moon makes my lungs freeze.
When memories claim my mind,
can't see through greyscaled eyes.
Sorry to waste your time
but I seem to have misplaced mine.
Hundred questions for myself.
Emptied 15, placed them on my shelf.
0 answers inside each 1.
Shapeshifter's sorry that I killed your fun.
3 years, 3 months. 1 long walk home.
I gambled with these dicey ghosts.
I spilled some drinks and said some things.
Grab my coat and hope you can forgive me.
Stunted
I zipped my leaking lips up.
Bit my tongue -- I'd made no progress
Hung my petty, spiteful face.
And I'm just
punting,
but could you forget my infractions?
didn't mean it
when I said, "Goodbye and **** this place."
I'm a werewolf on nights like these--
Claws bared and licking teeth.
So, please just don't mind me
as I walk out on unsure feet.
Sorry to waste your time,
but I seem to have misplaced mine.
Apr 20, 2017
Apr 20, 2017 at 11:56 AM UTC
Give me a pebble and I'll give you a diamond.
Give me a tear and I'll hand you a smile.
Give me your worthless worries
your hopeless heartbreaks
your endless encumbrances
your inured infractions.
Stone me,
Pelt me,
Inundate me
with your misfortune.
Load me with your burdens
So at the end of the day once you're weary of these timeless toils
The mirror shows not the creases of creation
but you.
Sep 18, 2014
Sep 18, 2014 at 11:09 AM 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
Pitiful person sitting here nursing
Wounds and infractions you stand collecting
Looking for something you know is a myth
Desiring to receive that so greatest gift
Love not long lost
What a long list and journey for you to find
A painstaking undertaking all to say ‘mine’
A ridiculous effort in too much time
Never understanding life’s greatest crime
Love is long lost
Collateral damage gone missing in the holocaust
In this world with pain deeply embossed
Sitting there gradually losing its shine
Just out of reach of our closed up minds
Nov 28, 2011
Nov 28, 2011 at 5:57 PM UTC
Fear and infractions,
Basic senses,
Subtle subtractions,
Delayed response,
Relayed reactions,
Play off the hint,
Winter hue,
Malice tint,
Hateless tasteless,
Faceless placeless,
Placed placement,
Playful payment,
Frivolous and fevered,
Tempered beliefs,
Believers,
Belay the bounty,
Beautiful and temptress trite,
Fracturing county,
Past tense recite,
Fast forward rewrite,
Rewound and respun,
Locked and lead loaded,
Geared and gunned,
Sudden and semi-accidental implosion,
Rewarming,
Sickly hex,
Weakened flex,
Internally overcasted and overtly storming,
Outwardly warning,
Slowly learning,
Forever turning,
And in turn,
Burnt and still laid burning,
Waking a ghostly turning,
Soundlessly and -ly burning,
Smokey on the peripheral,
Ethereal,
Eternally external,
Forcefully feared,
Into inferno,
Out of opinionated opressionables,
Que wide and willingly willed questionables,
Wordlessly whispers with the whim of the wind,
Beget blindness,
Begets mindless,
Begets beauty bound by which beauty begins,
Found fearfully,
Torn tearfully,
Retold beautifully,
Molded after mourning,
Mourned before morning,
Night neared,
Sadness teared,
Tearing soundly on edges,
Destruction and dutiful pirouette,
Tasted tyranny teem and endance pledge,
Irony stills,
And the air dare not forget.
Jun 17, 2010
Jun 17, 2010 at 12:14 PM UTC
You wound me up like a spiral staircase
Predictable like my weekdays
Fluent in enticing my reactions
I forgave you of toxic infractions
You could draw my body freehand
I sunk into you like quicksand
Aug 10, 2017
Aug 10, 2017 at 5:17 AM UTC
*The crisp chill of a late November evening;
leaves falling on the aging soil as I watch
the sun descend six feet below the horizon.
I stare beyond the astral plane hoping to see her;
my imaginations become infractions against decency.
Our secrets remain in these old pockets despite the demons
standing beside me. The taste of ginger lingers on my lips;
my hand bleeds from the tight grip on a rose that bears her name.
I miss the smell of her skin and the glimmer in her eyes;
I long to see her smile.*
Nov 29, 2013
Nov 29, 2013 at 10:56 PM UTC
Time is passing,
Blasting,
Into outer
Space age creations
Contemplations,
On the speed of light
Orbiting Life's
Reason and rhyme
Supernova visions
Expanding the infinite
Still yet,
The stardust confess
To the Universes unrest and
Entropy infractions,
Everything possesses
Equal and opposite reactions
Nov 5, 2014
Nov 5, 2014 at 12:48 PM UTC
My insecurities often scream louder
than the little voice inside of me.
Broadcasting and blasting out of stylish speakers
for all the boys and girls to see.
I've been held down,
by demons with travelling cloaks,
woven with invisible tapestry
clutched about their throats.
So to remove the words
I have so carefully purged
out my enigmatic system,
the ones caught and stuck inside my chest
with unusual strength and mysticism.
I took my hand,
jammed it deep down through my mouth
gagged on my fore fingers a second longer
in order to drag them out.
The vile words,
drowning in biled verse,
I drug them out through dreary space
and hung them with my shirts
I aired out days before.
The score of the fight
lies not in the aired out and forgotten,
but in the formations of tones
and phonetic clones
tangled in my web of rotten
sceptical insinuations.
Indelible infractions,
and taking back my sinful actions
are recanting hate, dispelling fate
burning holes within my reactions.
They've altered my vision,
long blurring scenes of scattered days
glass nails shattered in iron blenders
banishing frantic forays.
I've found it easier, less chaotic
to accept instances where I've felt at home.
I've come to enjoy devilish voices when I've lost it
because at least then, I'm not alone.
Jul 18, 2014
Jul 18, 2014 at 4:57 PM UTC
Humpty Trumpy promised the wall,
Humpty Trumpy's in a free fall:
His base reactions
To blackened redactions,
Gave Trumpy just cause
For more infractions.
Apr 18, 2019
Apr 18, 2019 at 6:13 PM UTC
Tall, and sagacious, with unassailable secrets
locked by crooked keys in rusted chests -
stoic glances - upturned lips hiding more I want to see.
I find the mountains of my skin between my fingers,
hands on my hips, squeeze,
push in and battle the duplicities: more or less.
Does he look?
He uses big words I look up in dictionaries
I wonder if he likes complicated clamor of endless infractions
like the books he reads, like the characters he keeps in his
brain's edifice. And I'm volatile, I want to be written, but I know, yes, I know
I should be writing myself.
But I am small, in ways, somewhat sagacious, slightly introverted.
Does that even count?
I stutter, and feel my chest unlock then I'm
grasping at it like hands catching nuts and bolts so heavy
they're slipping through my fingers to dance on the floor.
The pieces I lose
make musical clamor, and I wonder if he's fond of the genre.
Nov 23, 2014
Nov 23, 2014 at 3:47 AM UTC
Have you ever peeled an orange?
Felt the satisfaction as the smooth husk glides
Right off, falls away in a rush
Opening to the sweet flesh inside
Taking pleasure in the simple things
Those smooth and flawless actions
So why should flaying men be different?
Why the cruel infractions?
You say you scream from pain
But I hear the rejoicing
Hidden in your shrieks
As I flay the skin right off your face
Revealing the ****** smile
Concealed beneath your cheeks
Ah, the rush, the thrill
Peeling you like a fallen fruit
Elation takes me to new heights
As I joyfully flay your skin suit
My concentration becomes delight
As I open you up to new views
The rapturous beauty
Your muscles, tendons, bones, and sinews
Aug 2, 2018
Aug 2, 2018 at 2:13 AM UTC
I crave to feel the pangs of anxiety fill my fleshy veins
Hastily they induce brief, jolting, electric, waves of tenderness
I am revitalized like cracked lips to a water drenched cloth
Suckeling the remnants of satisfaction
Ravenously the addiction sets in and swarms the empty worlds in between my teeth
Words filling them in as the deceit spreads
I am diseased and bewildered, I ache for the hazardous
It’s the lust and temptation of the night I fear will fade away
Bare white mountainous knuckles gripping to the guileless lucid ideas of serendipitous romances
Surrendering to the howl whilst giving in to the bittersweet and otherworldly seductions of marrow
Scraping pieces of the exceptions with a fine tuned whistle and blow deep into my mind's havoc
I’ve desired the ever changing hands of he to fool me perpetually
Unfamiliar lips in shapes and sizes fill my ears with ceaseless notions
Rippling soul shuddering vibrations as if they were the whispers of past lovers
There is no you definitively
Roaming vivaciously in darkened walkways
Sore blistering hands reach palms up beaten sweaty, uninhibited, and cool
Etching each tick of the patron clock into my skin, grimacing as the moments slip
For when the hue of the lunar’s menace gleam is no longer near
Tomorrow night you will be a different you
Tenderly forgiving the infractions of dusk’s wicked mystic
As l walk past immortalized shadows down by the sea to meet another hue
Jul 6, 2016
Jul 6, 2016 at 3:51 PM UTC
I need to tell the truth
Let me be candid
I'm in a world
full of bandits
Diluted infractions
I need action
Drowning in
"look at me pollution"
love's an illusion
on a lonely screen
I find
unsolicited advice
How nice
Is this my new therapy?
I've lost my mind
Without meaning
how can I believe it?
Where's the truth
What's the truth
Where's the love
What's the proof?
You said I matter
That's a lie
Watch me shatter inside
Over and over I die
as life goes by
like a racecar
I'm tired, scarred,
never understanding why
What'd you say?
Say what you mean
Do what you say
There's no in-between
If all I have is you
How the hell am I
Supposed to make it through
I don't have it in me to
keep on giving
Make it worth living
Feb 9, 2023
Feb 9, 2023 at 3:19 PM UTC
The love i give to her. Once again i think of her
If only she of thought of me, I wonder if she thinks of me?
More than bruised by my past, cut deep. Tho, I know this love is placed deeper within her.
I envision her not just in my future, but happily living with her until the end that’s forever.
Finding myself presently wishing she was present with me. Or that her presence was abundant in present day and time.
Previously my days were spent wishing i had more time with the girl I was previously with.
Feelings for that girl were prevalent in my heart, but they didn't help the mend cracks at all.
Tho, she looked past the fractures and fought to find how to mend my broken heart.
Ripping past infractions and infringements pitting me against her clean out of me.
How these thoughts of her entreat me, tho, I won't let myself be defeated.
Time strives to lead me away from her to break my devotion to her.
I will not abdicate my rights to her, so I endeavor and think of her.
If only time would past so I could meet her and forget my past.
Meet my future so I can my abandon my past.
I know if I meet her this love will last.
Jul 2, 2013
Jul 2, 2013 at 5:10 PM UTC
I am an open book
So take a look
Maybe you'll like what you see
Or, maybe you'll ignore the message
And only see the typos, the grammar infractions
The mistakes I made along the way
In my little novel of a life
Because the book isn't about the order or meaning of the words right?
It's whether or not they are done "correctly"
You could read me so easily
I don't try to conceal it
For the most part
Sometimes
Occasionally
But that doesn't matter
Read the material I've provided you with
Even if it doesn't tell the whole story
My heart is on my sleeve
Look at it, anyone could tell I've been in love
By the scars in its flesh
You can tell it's been broken
But that's alright
You can also tell that someone has mended it
I make my intentions clear
I'm not here to hurt anyone
But myself
But that isn't intentional
For the most part
Sometimes
Occasionally
But that doesn't matter
I'm here for you
Talk to me, I'll listen
I want to help
Do you think of me?
I think of you
Yes, you
You who are reading this right now
I might not have ever met you
But I can guarantee that you have crossed my mind
Mentioned in my prayers
'Cause I'm thoughtful like that
One of these days, someone is gonna read this book
And be spellbound
Glued to the pages
Can't wait to find out what happens next
Desperately wanting to be a part of the story
At least, that's what I hope
And I'll be happy to include them
You don't have to watch from behind a glass pane
It won't hurt you
For the most part
Sometimes
Occasionally
But that doesn't matter
Just, don't burn the only known copy before it's even done
I don't want to disappear in a puff of smoke
Not just yet
Read me
Tell me what you see
Because when it comes to myself
I am tragically illiterate
The illiterate author
Of a tragedy
Oct 25, 2015
Oct 25, 2015 at 3:52 PM UTC
If you want something why sit around and wait for it?
You don't put in an ounce of effort, but then you pane for it..
Start taking chances!
Take the lead
Your lack of actions in past infractions
has got me hating me...
Sep 14, 2013
Sep 14, 2013 at 2:47 AM UTC
A temporary wealth
is all that I am ever allotted.
A brief understanding,
as well as an ability to be understood.
We entertain ourselves
with coarse language,
crude humor,
a commitment to behave
as we know we should,
for a while anyway.
Even now,
our respective grasps
on whatever it is
that we are allowed to share
during this day’s task is tenuous,
at it’s very best.
There are count times,
microcosms of malcontentedness
that lead to slight infractions
here and there.
We,
I learn daily,
are in passing.
Always, in flux.
We are not pals
and
never shall we abide one another
as more than men,
in conflict
and resolution
at the same time.
It is not a death,
their exit,
usually anyhow.
There is no pall that befalls us.
Each of us is birthed
into the life of the other;
in an effort to facilitate
a change in each other,
I believe.
An impact,
like an iceberg shipwreck,
rescuing and rewarding the passengers,
most of whom would rather drown themselves outright.
None of us can swim.
We don’t know how.
We barely know what it means
to live as society says we should.
The rules change more often
than we can keep up.
Yet, we grasp
and
cling to basic, vague understandings
in hopes of surviving
despite our best efforts otherwise.
We work together,
tumultuous,
listening fecklessly,
recklessly hoping for
the best possible outcome.
It is quite the undertaking.
This,
this performance,
this penance,
the doing of this
is how we invest,
how we spend our temporary windfall.
We learn,
together,
to be human.
Not that we ever actually were not so.
We learn,
however,
to be ourselves,
incandescent inside of our own skins.
Together, but with lives outside of mine,
for the betterment of all of us.
I learn to be a better humanist
than perhaps I would’ve
if I’d never been endowed
with
this temporary wealth.
***
-JBClaywell
©P&ZPublications 2021
May 23, 2021
May 23, 2021 at 5:14 PM UTC
I am the red flag
sprawled across your trembling limbs
when the world reminds you
that winter is also a season.
I am a reminder
that perfection exist
only in flawed visions
of how we see others
but refuse to see ourselves.
I'm the one you vent about
but refuse to listen to
because red flags
aren't viewed as imperfections
but as infractions;
Violations of laws
that neither of us agreed to
but live by.
Do you not see your own flags
boldly waving in the wind?
The way I stumble
beneath your force
or cringe
beneath your voice.
Do you talk about the way your flag
clings to it's pole?
Refusing to be pulled down?
Refusing to be burned?
Sep 23, 2020
Sep 23, 2020 at 2:40 PM UTC