"violates" poems
Loyalty is something that is earned. Loyalty is built on trust.
We each must be loyal to our own beliefs and our own selves,
before we can be loyal to someone else.
To be loyal to someone means that they have not violated your personal values
They must earn support by being there when needed.
Loyalty cannot violate a person’s choice between right & wrong.
Asking me to lie violates my ethics; do not put me in this position.
If someone is doing drugs, I am being a loyal friend when getting you help.
A loyal friend does what is right, even when others feel it is disloyal.
If I meet you today I cannot be loyal because I do not know you.
If I have known you all of your life, I may not be loyal to you because of past interactions.
Overall a combination of time and actions affect loyalty
To separate these two does not work, for true loyalty resides in a combination of both.
Apr 28, 2015
Apr 28, 2015 at 1:51 PM UTC
I need to cleanse it, free myself
Of this burden tainted upon
My being. Cinders are drenched on
Flesh
Spirit
Expunge
That which writhes is not burnt away,
So I must eradicate its stench
It violates upon my being
I unburden the pressures so released,
Pyroclastic flows breath exfoliation on my
Soul,
Pealed,
Freed
Of that stench scorched into oblivion
I relish in the torment of those below
Freshly parched earth as lungs burn breath,
"Fallen misery descends in singed flesh"
I release the Feathers weighted down
Haemorrhaging as crimson flows to the
Stems, expanding into the beauty
Of death, I am
Released,
Liberated,
Redeemed
Upon the fallen as I step upon ash
"Bones, death, rebirth"
As no longer afflicted,
I am once again blanched as purest darkness
Is Neither black or grey
"But lucid white"
"As purity is only clean"
"I am purity of darkness"
And the taints of humanity are flakes upon
Silent statues upon the ground, I am malevolent incarnate..
Jan 7, 2015
Jan 7, 2015 at 5:15 PM UTC
White body kills Black body
But no body saw a thing.
Every body has an opinion
But no body has the truth.
White body thought that it could
Beat the blackness out of Black body
But Black body stayed black.
Black body cried out,
"Some body! Please! Help!
This violates ****** rights!"
But still, no body heard a thing.
White body has weapons
It inherited from its ancestors:
Police
White Privilege
Justice System
Freedom
Hypocrisy
Lies
Gun.
Black body had a weapon too:
None
White body stays free, remorseless
While Black body lies in the ground.
White body's name is America.
Black body's name was Black Body.
Oct 26, 2017
Oct 26, 2017 at 6:20 PM UTC
Oizys, son
From behind the leaves, I saw you, trembling
In your presence, your power strengthening
In the empty, midnight parking lot
While the street lights hummed
And moths danced around your illuminated frame
You turned slowly, onyx eyes of shame
And dirtied bare feet, male hair long and white
The street lights flickered when you blinked and cried bitterly
And I saw, for my first time, the eyes of Misery
Achyls, daughter
You were in an empty field
No premonitions did you wield
An ancient silo in the distance
Leaning over a chasm black lamb
Dark skinned, dressed in black robes
With tribal painted face
Digging earthen fingers into its black lace
When you looked up, I saw your cloudy eyes
Churning of a storm, cataract yet wise
Your lamb had absent vapored eyeballs
The Mist of Death made my skin crawl
Hypnos, son
Secluded in a cave by the sea
A silent, empty place to be
While gray waves crash into jetties
The clouds gather in the distance
Poppies at the mouth changing time in an instance
I go in your palace and rub my cold skin
For pulsing blue glows from deeper within
You, a lanky youth, with thick brown hair and heavy eyes
Sit there with a paper mask
Illuminated by the penetrating glow
In the center, surrounded by whale bones
Humming a song I remember fondly
You trapped me in your Dreams, singing lullabies softly
Eris, daughter
Violates a bedroom with utmost hate
There are paintings of kings and statues of satyrs
Pillows of silk and animals on the walls
Usurping the gold clawed palace
Silent but kicking and throwing with malice
With black skin covered in a chalky white substance
I peek through the crack in the mansion’s door
Lips formed in a silent shout, you notice my presence
Naked and bruised and plagued with no voice
Suddenly stops and lays against a ****** wall
Through your electric black hair
And fiery red stare
I witness a Child of Spite
Woman of Strife
Nyx, mother
I am a crawling shadow of trees
And wicked heart of night
I am the wax on the cold leaves
And the glow of the moon’s light
Apr 30, 2011
Apr 30, 2011 at 7:24 PM UTC
These days Jesus is a smoker
With an invisible cloak
Running on a schizophrenic rainbow
While we search for artificial paradise
To appease our soul’s appetite
It’s a kind of bottomless fall
Our chaos creates stars
As we walk through the dark forest
With all the timid insects
And aging is time travel
Cause soon you’ll be your parents
There’s an avalanche of power
That violates our psychic peace
When your only friends are dead people
And self-worth is in another’s mind
We need a fortress in our hearts
An anchor to reality
And a lighthouse of wisdom
Cause if no one agrees with you
You must be closer to the truth
Oct 5, 2012
Oct 5, 2012 at 1:00 PM UTC
the Hail Mary transgression:
falling in love with me when it crosses over the line
*guilty of the same, so even when I condemn the errant woman,
with an ice block from a Northeastern pond of no soft forgiveness,
which is still and yet, the only cutoff ending appropriate
but you woman, deserve to learn that
emboldened fantasy that crosses broken bold lines,
is a jagged rot that doesn’t cure the dreamy unreality of
the-cannot-be,
it’s pouring hot water on scalding burns entrenched
guess time to share that your fantasy is the
number one commandment
that this boy also violates routinely so he has a phd of experience,
and the burn proofs when he thot he too could be,
Cervantes, the knight errant, lover of the impossible woman
I, guilty as charged by “The Duke,” am an idealist and bad poet,
so many poet-women here I secret cherish at levels that are nonsensical, absurd, ludicrous
and hold the fantastical fantasty of them dear,
so close and so near, so mine
wrote them each love poems, and they know it,
now, here, in my confessional booth,
my priestly punishment always the same,
ten thousand Hail Mary’s,
but I cheat the cohen priest,
and just write another poem,*
this one is about the line that never can could will be
crossed, hail mary!
Feb 11, 2019
Feb 11, 2019 at 11:48 AM UTC
Teacher: Alright Panda what are your Favorite colors?
Me: My favorite colors are Red and Black
Teacher: Interesting colors Panda, why are those your colors?
Me: I honestly doubt you want to hear the answer to that.
Teacher: Come on Panda, tell the class why those are your colors.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In my head the decision warred to tell but then my life was already hard enough as it was......More and more my demons wanted release so finally I gave in prepared for the looks, name calling, and lonely life again.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Me: you really want to know why?
Teacher: Very much yes, we would
Me: Ok then, Red and black are my favorite colors for their meanings.
Teacher: And what are their meanings?
Me: Red, stands for The blood that is shed during death, The blood that I shed when the knife glides over my skin, The blood that can be heard rushing through your veins when the fear becomes to great....The blood that your heart leaks from the poorly covered cracks from being shattered so many times....
Teacher: (Gulps) And what about black Panda?
Me: *Black.....My true color.....Black, stands for the darkness and destruction warring in my mind, body, and soul, The darkness after death, The darkness in my heart from all the hatred thrown at me, The Darkness and destruction from my inner demons who keep warm and safe at night, The Darkness that one day we will all see, because nobody can escape death....Hes one bad-ass Mother ****** who always gets his way....Those are my colors....The colors that make me and I stand for...*
Teacher: Ummm....Very...Very Interesting Panda (Gulps and steps away) You know I think it's time for lunch why don't we all go to lunch yea? ( Scurries away)
Other students: I told you she was a freak......Crazy......Belongs with the dead if you ask me.....She talks about demons so much I would be surprised if she wasn't one.....
Me: Smirks You guys should learn to keep your opinions to your self, they might get you hurt one day.... (Get's up and walks out the door leaving a note for the others)
Note- "Roses are Red, Violates are blue, Red like your blood, blue like the sea....Keep on talking soon you will all see who the true demon is and hey it just might be me." Yours truly Panda <3
Mar 31, 2015
Mar 31, 2015 at 3:35 PM UTC
Rudolph was differently -abled
As nearly everybody knows.
He suffered discrimination
because he had a nose that glows.
All of the alt-right Reindeer
Were bigoted and called him names.
They never let poor Rudolph
Participate in Reindeer games
Then one foggy holiday Eve
O.S.H.A came to say
“This hostile workplace violates rules
There will be hefty fines to pay!”
Now all of the Reindeer hate him
but learned to hide it carefully.
They just spent two weeks in training
For Reindeer sensitivity.
Dec 1, 2016
Dec 1, 2016 at 9:05 PM UTC
August is anger
August is despair
August takes me there
To blood
To the flood
August is death
And gloom
It takes me from my room
Violates me
Mocks me
Then puts me away
August makes me pray
August is red
And rage
Gotta get out of this place
August is nothing
But grief
Never a relief
Sadness
Depression
Bargaining
Anger
And acceptance
Well not quite there
August is everywhere
And nowhere
I lose it
In august
I lose it
In months of eight
I'm always late
In summer
It creeps on me
Like drips of sweat
Dripping into my flesh
Burning my veins
Leaving nothing
But my remains
August remains
And it's seeping into
September
Or march
Maybe June
Or July
The 8th month _s p r e a d s_
Just like all your lies
Sep 11, 2025
Sep 11, 2025 at 6:23 PM UTC
2am Friends
winter has set the boundage, bars of chill, escape-urge killers,
self-imprisoned by our ruthless timidity, that both comforts yet,
worse violates our truthful, unwanted inadmissible-neediness by
purging the touches and the knowing kindage, this then,
this preface, your reminding of-as-of-yet untouched,
half-invitational, half-regret, half-cursed, whole red need for
2am friends
to fill the void that poems can n’ere fill
1/1/18
Jan 1, 2018
Jan 1, 2018 at 11:36 AM UTC
Roses are red violates are blue
Like a rose with no more thorns
Your gaze makes me no more blue
Days I spend hoping to meet you
Nights I dream of holding you too
Battered, broken and a little shy too
How do I do it, how do I get to you
You’re beautiful, cute and classy too
Hope I can be the right one for you
Nov 15, 2014
Nov 15, 2014 at 9:56 PM UTC
Muslims are not to date.
But you've seen him kissing Kate.
Zayd, Khalid, Luqman don't care that ALLAH tells us to wait.
They flash their sinful pictures straight.
Without shame, a number of my brothers show children watching how to fake mate.
Selfish, self-centered, I do what I want to do is happening at a fast rate.
Most of them who date know ALLAH regards their actions with hate.
Persistence to do wrong, to fake date Kate, prevents them from moving in a direction that is straight.
Maybe their children, ones they were never told about would have entered the world as ******** late.
Maybe their done away with babies would have exited the world as ALLAH'S slaves who used Islamic knowledge as bait.
Before marriage it is said, I love you, You're hot; Kate steals these phrases from the role of a wife and uses them to increase her heart rate.
They share a bed and have *** but what they want not to know is that they fornicate.
A load of grave sins they accrue and a heavy punishment from ALLAH if they do not feel guilty, if they do not repent, if they do not end what they perpetuate.
Many practicing Muslim maids want not to marry them. Little do those who fake date Kate know that their actions likely got in the way of GOD'S good fate.
That their use and abuse of ALLAH'S fashioned female and a Father's beloved daughter, violates her like how a dog with his razor-sharp teeth on her arm viciously ate.
He and Kate with memories to relive the sores and bruises, the trauma and incidents of disobedience which cut off grace from ALLAH, The Great.
You're going to make wait late.
You're going to fake date Kate.
Feb 12, 2019
Feb 12, 2019 at 5:35 PM UTC
To the men who talk down to me
As though I am helpless
Because the parts of my body.
You do not know the meaning of helpless
Until you are being stared straight in the face by fear
Like looking down the barrel of a gun
It's hands strapped around your breathless throat
Point blank range
Eyes closed.
You wait for it to fire
You know it's coming
Words, usually starting with
"We need to talk"
Or
"You better sit down."
You know it can't be good
As tears fill her once shining eyes
And those stars fall into the ocean.
Then you learn very quickly
Almost by instinct
That everyone you love must die.
Helpless is when comforting your mother
Makes you a seamstress.
Stitching her together while you yourself are composed of
False hope
Fading memories
Fear.
Helplessness is when behind this gun is the face of a man
A man you prayed you could trust
But he violates you
Colors your view of the opposite ***
From the time you are seven years old
He ties the noose that you continually hang yourself with
In the years to come.
Helplessness is when you tell yourself you have moved on but
No matter how much therapy they inject into your veins
No matter how many drugs they try to numb you out with
Influence spreads like a virus
Into every area of your life
But since you have become so distantly removed
So adamantly avoidant of this looming secret
Like smoke rising to the ceiling
You notice something lower itself
Whenever you have to face this head on again:
Fear.
See it is a cycle
Helplessness is a cycle
And it always ends in fear
How can I remove myself from this circle?
Dec 28, 2014
Dec 28, 2014 at 12:58 AM UTC
He is my least favorite vegetable.
No amount or level of preparation makes him taste better:
Boiling-
brings out his bulbous, insipid ego
the texture of his flamboyant ignorance.
when I timorously sip him in soups or broths,
his oozing insidious misogyny
contaminates my blissful dining, contorts any ingredients still pure.
I fry him, striving to remove the
excess of impertinence which
permeates the oxygen I feebly inhale.
but he evades my maneuvers:
usurps bliss and violates all semblance of tranquility
I cannot prevail
against the throb of his assaulting narcissism
I must instead attempt
to comment
(arduously, fraudulently)
on the delicate iridescence of his silkily mucoused membranes
and admire deftly
his indefatigable ventures to pervade my
every.
serenity.
Nov 5, 2013
Nov 5, 2013 at 3:18 AM UTC
Raindrops, accompanied by morning coffee’s aroma
Ice cubes and cola, that galaxy on the surface of the fizzing soda
The smell of old books, while reading as you sat on a sofa
Simple joys, euphoria, now free your mind from the entire enigma
Rasasvada, the taste of bliss in the absence of all thought
Maybe the mental state in which your mind experiences drought
People watching, people praying, people playing,
people like droids
Over the course of history, we’ve discovered hundreds of thousands of asteroids
The first one is Ceres; now ask yourself, “Do I exist”?
Are you suffocated by the alienating effect of urban life;
which you still can’t resist?
Inside the neon-soaked metropolis, transgression,
and the ignorance of youth
Truth realizes itself; and that is the truth
Dusk falls, starry night, the slumbering dark will rise
What made you think that you are wise and that you’d never compromise?
It is only while the city sleeps that you can understand its heaviness
Of what? The weight of your consciousness
It was once said that the smallest thing that you’d see is human kindness
And if not, what else will explain mankind and his varied emptiness
Death defies and completely violates the laws of the universe
The prophets did not write their words on papers, in a verse
They are engraved inside the minds of street hooligans and space vagabonds
Wars don’t end wars, trivial things, and worshiping new gods with brands
Humanity, please keep your sanity.
Regress towards simplicity and put away your vanity
People watching, people praying, people playing,
people who forgot what it means to ‘be’
The ebb and flow of life are as strange as
the creases on your sweater
You, a slave of order, creature of magnificent wonder
A being who seeks purpose and solace, in your thoughts you dwell
So long, tonight I hope you sleep well
Oct 18, 2017
Oct 18, 2017 at 3:24 PM UTC
Luscious ruby red lips, tell me white lies,
gorgeous supple **** there I hide my alibi's.
My eyes can't see anyone else anymore,
my life isn't the way that it was before.
Her womb welcomes me, her sin invites me.
She violates me, and I, hurt her too, willingly.
Her warm tender fingers ****** what they will,
every touch is the chilling goosebump overkill.
Feet fall on golden cobblestones, never alone,
'cause I always know just where she is.
Luscious ruby red lips, tell me white lies,
gorgeous supple **** where I hide my alibi's.
Nov 4, 2011
Nov 4, 2011 at 1:52 PM UTC
There is a certain injustice
In the way this life unfolds.
The beauties of birdsong,
The tapestry of nightfall,
Eludes the bustling hunger of life
That survives only during the tragic monotony
Of light and days.
Nothing balances the weakness,
Or the misbalance of joy
Giving simplicity to have-nothings
The pleasant sweetness of no loss
And directing every woe, every jealousy,
Towards the one that has.
This injustice unfurls,
Myriad patterns of thoughts;
Where the thoughtless discrimination
Of black, white, yellow, red and brown
And all the spectrum of colors that the rainbow has left unadulterated
Gets tinged in meanings,
Meanings the hues never intended.
Myriad meanings dictated by space
And spaces in time,
Meanings that lurk behind your eyes,
Towards the way I look.
How the two meet to create a wonder
That violates every injustice
Which had crawled on this earth !
That half broken gleam,
The crack between your lips,
When you part them to smile,
Reminds me, why every injustice,
Is a pain worth bearing.
Jun 23, 2018
Jun 23, 2018 at 11:41 PM UTC
In my throat you have taken root-
The radical violates my lips
Gouging my smile until teeth are broken
Its humid tendrils drop black soil in the cavity of my lungs
The bark of the ***** startled the rabbit
All this reflected in the eye of a raven
Firstborn:
How have I known thee?
Surely it is not our first meeting you and I spring
Come and gone are the lifetimes
Past eternities we have known:
In which we ran naked through the orchards
Sleeping beneath a sky of stars innumerable
A sky still ****** of smoke
I walked in the cool evening
Two dogs at my heels
When we met
I was born and the words were dammed up
The flute of Pan was played as in moonlight we lay
Unafraid Spring and I
Who hath sculpted mountains?
Wind and water are the paint and brush
Stone and flame-Ice and sea
Lightning dancing cloud to cloud
Surely Thor's begun to weld
Upon the anvil of the sky
What is poetry to a flower
A single petal gives justice to a thousand lifetimes
Oh to be
In the vein of a leaf
Or the one running blue o'r your thin wrist
Be still and listen
For a night
For a day
God sings a song of Spring
Love not thyself
Sep 4, 2013
Sep 4, 2013 at 11:10 PM UTC
Love is hate because it spits me out at the shores of violent seas, and the world does not stop moving even though 3 years of my life are washed down the drain.Gunshots never cease and lately they have become a lullaby for my 1 year old sister who is lifeless on the floor, I mean love cannot survive nukes.
Love is a silent tragedy because the man next door is not moved as my brother dodges bullets and cover his bleeding ears whilst trying to outrun a lion in the wild.
Love is confusion because what i see everyday is man killing one another because we have different skin tones.
Love is selfish and arrogant because it knows no boundaries nor offers any respect.Love is a ****** because it violates and strips all innocence all in the name of sacrifice.
Love is a ****** because it kills dreams in the name of honesty. Love is an idea that helps us sleep at night because deception is the fuel to survive in this cold world.Love is a conman.
Sep 26, 2016
Sep 26, 2016 at 6:22 AM UTC
Distant It's heard
The nomads
guitar hum its trembled
arias
Its whispered strum violates
ephemerally
ragged
plasticine walls
It penetrates
stale pine
Punctured by
rust-haggard
nails
It travels
through pebbled hearts and
Nestles
in hidden cracks
Coercing
suffocated crumbs
of life
into the night.
Apr 2, 2012
Apr 2, 2012 at 4:48 PM UTC
If it ***** with someone's head,
If it breaks somebody's heart,
If it violates someone internationally or externally,
Why wouldn't you be a bad person for doing this to another?
And then blame who you did it to.
Mar 21, 2016
Mar 21, 2016 at 8:16 PM UTC
Prelude,
Skin was scorching,
Prickling our naked ankles.
Whispers of passion—amounting to the indefinite.
Excitement overriding fear.
Your smirk—it was scorning my wit, but all the while I was spinning—
Trying to outdo you.
Challenging the norm of lovers before me, despite those many warnings.
And yet, here I am, brushing against your infamous lips,
Having more intentions than I care to share with you,
Because I will be the exception.
I, a determined revolutionist bent on transforming your philosophy.
The inevitable vulnerability, the alleged helplessness found by your touch—
You were all talk, and nothing I couldn’t handle.
_____________
Interlude,
Something encroaches now.
A force unplanned.
It violates me. It breaches the wall of my veins.
Slithering, swimming —
A parasitic force of which I was convinced I was immune.
Biology’s symbiotic model; forever tainted by our act.
For many a love was given in primal flesh, yet goes unrequited in spirit.
I believed I could break this cycle.
I, the revolutionist
Believed I could topple your deeply set pride.
I believed I could crack your shell and pull out the viscera,
Bleeding, pulsating in between my fingers, and let the mass slide from my hands
To fall upon your chest, floundering in plain view.
I imagined that your eyebrow would raise, your lips would part to form a
Contorted grin, you would sigh, and then admit,
“Nicely Done.”
I believed you would be impressed.
I believed you would be impressed…
______________
Epilogue,
Wit is waning.
Skin is cold, rotting… and wasting.
My beautiful body is rotting.
And I cannot admit that you were right,
Lest I would rot more quickly.
Still unyielding to your claims,
Only so you not think of me as fragile,
Not because I think I may win.
Clinging to the hope that you may someday learn to love
This broken, yearning body.
This fallen revolutionist—
All along a convenient satiation of flesh.
Nov 17, 2011
Nov 17, 2011 at 5:07 PM UTC
Roses are red
Violates are blue
If I had a brick
I'd throw it at you
<3
Jun 9, 2014
Jun 9, 2014 at 10:29 PM UTC
I think it's funny, when girls claim there's no such thing as a good guy when looking for love,
As they go out...
Like you'll find Prince Charming, loaded in the back of the club...you search for a smart dude, instead accept a lying slub…
Who plays the tough guy and starts trouble with any dude who give you a hug.
It's kinda sad...that good girls seem to enjoy the bad...
Makes me question if they were taught self respect from their dad...or maybe they didn't have one so they didn't learn to block scum...so their false interpretation have them skip a star for a useless *** lets equal out the sum and do a little math, her smart brain plus her beauty equals a dumbass?wait...let me erase, a new problem I need too create, add the fact that he's ****** and her heart he violates, claiming he works late while goof out on dates as your trusting, naive mind sits home and optimistically waits...
You need to better yourself, see the woman who is great, don't settle for a pretty face and immediately assume it's faith.
Women I'm just trying to help, a dude with a tighten up belt, I can relate too your pain cause I know how being cheated on felt.
I feel for your heart and wanna heal all your minds, just remember a dude on his own knows how to make a woman shine and he loves her for her and will always give her his all...he takes in her beauty but loves her for her flaws.
I know men are tough and at times and ya have enough, we play our cards our way and you constantly have to try and call our bluffs
So to all my women who read this I promise not all of us are the same and all women, we got em'
This here my story for all my beautiful girls
This is Girl Problems.
Aug 1, 2013
Aug 1, 2013 at 11:55 PM UTC