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Haydn Swan Feb 2015
You violate me with your delicious tenture,
licking my soul with your words,
making my skin tingle with the anticipation of your thoughts,  
******* me with your mind,  
twisted obscurity in an ******* delight,  
the cardinal remnants left trickling down my legs
breathing obscenities in a heterophonic haze
Andrew Rueter Dec 2017
There is dirt mixed with blood
Underneath our fingernails
Our life is mixed with mud
While we fight and flail
The struggle is for my agency
Otherwise I feel they're ****** me
I feel they are replacing me
With an imposition of their will
Love as vast as the sea
Wouldn't get them their fill
Their emotions they ****
For a ****** thrill
That could be achieved by a pill
But instead they use power
For they understand in this hour
There is a mentality
Of fatality
Where we minimize our enemies to their negative desires
So we can build with our allies oppressive empires
Until the whole world is on fire
And these rapists can do as they please
When it's systemic they do it with ease
In a world without trust
They are the beneficiaries
They care only for lust
With actions incendiary
Burning the forest they hide in
Where our secrets provide their shade
Because overwhelming suspicion pervades
The image of all strangers
We see only danger
And our judgement is skewed
When everybody is considered a ******
Yet there are only a few

There is a moment
When I make a ****** decision
I am not sure what the recipient's reaction will be
There are two negative extremes to this situation:
1. I will **** them
2. They will falsely accuse me of ****
Our ****** lives are navigating these issues of trust
Between those extremes
But when our definition of ****
Starts to define the victim's comfort
As more important than the violator's intent
We show an unwillingness to understand and a bias
Which would give anyone reason to not trust someone
And the ****** atmosphere becomes one of uncertainty
People get into relationships so they don't have to worry about it
But bachelors must consider these things
**** victims must too
As well as the man sitting in prison for fraudulent claims
One has been illegally *****
The other has been ***** legally
I'd imagine both might see a world of rapists afterwards
Yet there are only a few
Anonymess Jun 2017
Intruder. Intrusion. In my personal space.
Violater. Violation. What you took, I cannot replace.
Material. Materialistic. But that that's not the point.
My thoughts. My feeling. Have been shattered open.

Intruder. Violater. You didn't just steal.
You took something from me more valuable.
Than diamonds and rubies and all the queens gold.
Intruder. Violater. You don't know what you hold.                              

Intruder. Violater. You've taken my purge.
Letters and answers and maps to my worth.
Intruder. Violator. You've taken from me.
Memories of where I was, who I am and I am how I came to be.
You've taken my heartache, my sadness and pain
But also the joy and happiness from life I have gained.

Intruder. Violater. Maybe something to sell.
You took my whole world and spun me around.
Material. Materialistic. Harmless. Maybe to you.
I'm shattered and heartbroken and there's nothing I can do.
I wrote this after someone broke into my flat only to steal my laptop. I wasn't so much upset that the laptop was stolen as about what was on the laptop. Years of memories and writing and feelings. Things I held sacred and kept sacred, just taken to be sold.
Marie Dec 2020
The Umbilical cord is cut upon .... first breath.
Separating us from mother;
Pushing us to thrive in a manner outside...
Maternal internal cannibalistic vampirism.

Circumcised upon ****** classification.
Separating us from father;
Peeling away the skin,
Exposing the core of the apple.

Hair is pruned.
Separating us from the psyche;
Leaving us in the dark,
Like a shadow without a heart.

Held up by our foot.
Strung like a pretzel;
Smacked by the tune of historical blood,
Claiming degrees of separation.

We deny...
We are
       (Mother and Father...
        God and Devil....
        Creator, Perpetrator,
        Anti-Violator and Master Manipulator.)
  Adam, Eve, Snake and Apple.

--Marie Moldovan ©️ 2020
Nicole M Allen Dec 2013
Your calm behavior
This kiss has its own flavor
Love leave sectile cuts like a razor
He should of  been labeled with a disclaimer
Warning me of his true identity
A heartbreaker
Wishing I had a mind eraser
A memory drainer
But I'll let you be the stimulator like before
I am just a partaker and a  violator
Because my final words with him were last December
But forgetting you will leave me with displeasure
You give me so much love
No one can measure
Second poem, open to comments and criticism
Rangzeb Hussain Apr 2010
Gunshots pierce the silence of the yawning night,
In the subterranean abyss of the subway
A young life ebbs into the filth strewn sewer,
It is a girl, fair and beautiful with black locks,
Her violator pockets the still smoking weapon and zips up,
He spits, looks over his shoulder and lights a cigarette,
He inhales deeply and in his nostrils he can taste her sweet perfume,
The memory orchestrates a smile
Which once again compels him to look down at her still warm body,
Upon her dress and glistening legs the blood is beginning to congeal,
Her eyes are sightless but they mirror his image in the dead sockets,
He takes another lungful of her succulent youth
And then slithers and melts into the anonymous jaws of the city,
His ***** are still encrusted with hunger
And the night is yet young and tender,
His teeth glint by the light of the neon signs.



©Rangzeb Hussain
elizabeth Aug 2016
Tears running down my face,
my worst fear
has come to life.

Terrified...
Shaking...
Too many thoughts...
Please...
Help me...

I don't want to face him;
my Violator,
my Terrorizer,
my own personal Nightmare.

Please...
Don't make me go...
I don't want to..
Wake me up...

I can't go up.
I can't.
Don't want to.
Don't make me.
I'm like a little girl;
I am a little girl.
Please don't make me.

Please...
I can't breathe...
Wake me up...

*Please
August 19, 2016.
Wake me from this nightmare. Please. Someone... Help me.
g clair Mar 2015
"I think we try too hard, he said
we need to laugh much more instead"-
"I think we cry too much, she laughed
we're starved for love until we're fed."

"I think we spend too much he reasoned
need to save for rainy days"-
"I think we leave too much unseasoned
spice it up with mayonnaise!"

"I think we eat too much, he stated
we've got all this fat to shed"
:and I think walking's overrated
lets just ride our bikes instead."

"I think I'm talking to a wall
you cannot hear a word I say"-
"but I've responded to them all
just maybe not in your own way."

I think he thinks too much she pondered
I can't read his mind at all
and every time his eyes have wandered
spikes are sharp before the stall...

"I think I'm needing something more"
and she knows what he's thinking of
"Be my guest, don't let that door
besmirch your tender side, my love."

"I think I'm made for bigger things
than being saddled here with you"-
"but oh be sure those bigger butts
are gonna buck your system too!

She thinks "he has it way too easy,
thinks I want to hear this stuff!"
tells him that she's feeling queasy
"heard it all, enough's enough!"

She thinks it hurts too much to talk
about the things he puts her through
her tendency to shout and balk
has raised the foam up from the brew

and seeing clearer, painful truth
his disregard grew from that day
mistook the *** for love in youth
and clung to that which came her way

Daddy never knew his daughter
never built her up to know
how she was loved above the water
that he drank or his big toe.

It's sad the man that she admired
never knew how she'd be burned.
because the love from Dad required
words and  lessons never learned.

and to the wounding add some salt
the failure of the best to choose her
now she sees it's not her fault
she cannot tell the best from loser.

Mum was quite the same you see
a distance there but never spoken
always mediocrity
discontent, lines blurred and broken.

"I think I'll wait another year
before I set my course to sail"-
"why wait, just throw me off right here
this roller coaster's off it's rail"

to this He says, " You're here beside me
for the long haul as they say"
" I think it's best we keep on riding
tell me later, in the hay."

Lots of pain in barbed sarcasm
each has blocked the other's heart  
words in action killed the passion
boundaries blurred and torn apart.

Respect, protect your precious boundary
that which makes you who we are
love yourself and then each other
shining love and sparkling star.

When the boundary violator
makes you feel less than dirt
tell each other now, not later
how that word or action hurt.

I think we try too hard, he said
we need to laugh much more instead-
I think we cry too much, she laughed
we're starved for love until we're fed.

XO
Relational dysfunction, We are all products of some kind of brokenness which leads to our developing our own dysfunctional patterns. Choosing that which fits into our dysfunctional comfort zones, that which accepts our personal coping mechanisms. This poem illustrates from my own experience brokenness and blurred boundaries. Most important thing to do is forgive others and love yourself . If you can't love yourself , you will never be able to choose the right people to share your life with. http://youtu.be/7a5nmO1P5lo
g clair Jun 2014
"I think we try too hard, he said
we need to laugh much more instead"-
"I think we cry too much, she laughed
we're starved for love until we're fed."

"I think we spend too much he reasoned
need to save for rainy days"-
"I think we leave too much unseasoned
spice it up with mayonnaise!"

"I think we eat too much, he stated
we've got all this fat to shed" 
:and I think walking's overrated
lets just ride our bikes instead."

"I think I'm talking to a wall
you cannot hear a word I say"-
"but I've responded to them all
just maybe not in your own way."

I think he thinks too much she pondered
I can't read his mind at all
and every time his eyes have wandered
spikes are sharp before the stall...

"I think I'm needing something more"
and she knows what he's thinking of
"Be my guest, don't let that door
besmirch your tender side, my love."

"I think I'm made for bigger things
than being saddled here with you"-
"but oh be sure those bigger butts
are gonna buck your system too!

She thinks "he has it way too easy,
thinks I want to hear this stuff!"
tells him that she's feeling queasy
"heard it all, enough's enough!"

She thinks it hurts too much to talk
about the things he puts her through
her tendency to shout and balk
has raised the foam up from the brew

and seeing clearer, painful truth
his disregard grew from that day
mistook the *** for love in youth
and clung to that which came her way

Daddy never knew his daughter
never built her up to know
how she was loved above the water
that he drank or his big toe.

It's sad the man that she admired
never knew how she'd be burned.
because the love from Dad required
words and  lessons never learned.

and to the wounding add some salt
the failure of the best to choose her
now she sees it's not her fault
she cannot tell the best from loser.

Mum was quite the same you see
a distance there but never spoken
always mediocrity
discontent, lines blurred and broken.

"I think I'll wait another year
before I set my course to sail"-
"why wait, just throw me off right here
this roller coaster's off it's rail"

to this He says, " You're here beside me
for the long haul as they say"
" I think it's best we keep on riding
tell me later, in the hay."

Lots of pain in barbed sarcasm
each has blocked the other's heart  
words in action killed the passion
boundaries blurred and torn apart.

Respect, protect your precious boundary
that which makes you who we are
love yourself and then each other
shining love and sparkling star.

When the boundary violator
makes you feel less than dirt
tell each other now, not later
how that word or action hurt.

I think we try too hard, he said
we need to laugh much more instead-
I think we cry too much, she laughed
we're starved for love until we're fed.

XO
Relational dysfunction, We are all products of some kind of brokenness which leads to our developing our own dysfunctional patterns. Choosing that which fits into our dysfunctional comfort zones, that which accepts our personal coping mechanisms. This poem illustrates from my own experience brokenness and blurred boundaries. Most important thing to do is forgive others and love yourself . If you can't love yourself , you will never be able to choose the right people to share your life with. http://youtu.be/7a5nmO1P5lo
Ady Mar 2014
Your body is a canvas,
but the tongue of a blade should never be your brush,
blood should never be your palette
and bitter tears should never sting your skin.
Your body is a canvas,
touched by the brush of a petal,
painted by the tints of rosy joy and yellow sun,
your eyes should reflect the starry night
and the silver of a moonlit sky.
Your body is an altar,
it should never be desecrated by skeptics,
it should never be sculpted with bruises
and stained by the possession of manipulating demons.
Your body is an altar,
celebrated by passion fueled prayers,
adorned with ornaments of kisses,
and cleansed by candid disciples.
You are priceless and worth every struggle,
so don't let anyone deceive you in an opinion
based solely on their contorted perception
of untruthful quantification of our current
media,
because you are a sculpture in the Louvre
and a masterpiece is not worth the touch
of a violator.
Dave Bronson Aug 2016
I search for the arms
of strangers,
of friends,
of my family.

People pass by me
and their eyes drop
to my arms
before they meet
my face again.

They found a woman's body
hands, feet and face
burned. Naked
tossed into the woods.

Her killer
still unidentified.

They asked for tips.
She struggled
they said,
her violator may have been wounded.
Scratches and bruises may still be visible
on the forearms of her attacker.

So I find myself
staring down
at the pale arms
of men,
of the unkempt elderly man at Honey Farms,
of the teenage gas attendant who never quite
meets my eyes,
but also
at the father of my daughter's afternoon playdate,
the teenage sons of my neighbors
and at an evening barbecue, my own father,
questioning against doubt
what they are capable of.

And when I am alone,
even though I know,
in the mornings
I look down
at my own arms
unmarked.

And still, I check
twice.
K M May 2015
And so what am I supposed to do
when I return to this mess
To this overturned chair
******-up cover
This disgusting room tarnished by your wrath
Well I just turn over the pillow
to hide the tears and mascara stains
I just toss it over the other side is fresh
ready and waiting
But it smells foul like
******* please leave this house
Crafty manipulator that you are
You think everything has submitted
to your unspoken whim
Hiding weakness and sensitivity
It's plain for me to see
I know it seems like I know what I think
But I don't know what I think about you
Violator
You are a grotesque farce of a man
I take a shower so the water silences
and washes away my tears
So you don't even have to know
And I turn right-ways the chair you threw
So you don't even have to remember what you've done by tomorrow
But I will not go sit with you now
and watch TV
acting as though this never happened
Mystic904 Sep 2017
Don't know what to say
It's all upto my dismay
Of being reckless and a sinner
Forgive me! I'm not what I say

I'm a disobeyer, Forgive me!

Do all that and forget
The sayings I forget
Don't know what it is
The prayers I forget

I'm a violator, Forgive me!

Don't want any of that
Why do I do all that
The end only chooses good
when I know all that

I'm on the wrong, Forgive me!

No one can save me
Only can God see me
In Him I believe
And He is the key

I'm a sinner, Forgive me!

The things I know
Isn't it enough to bow
What happens to them
That's the truth, I know

I'm not human
Again if I disobey
Even when I know
The few rules I must obey

I seek repentance
Forgive me!
Mateuš Conrad Aug 2017
schizophrenics? oh you mean the professors? the charles xaviers of this world? there's a few, statistics suggest about a 100 : 1 ratio... nothing special in terms of rarity... nonetheless, a telesensivitos acquired against all hopes, of turning it into a telepathy, or a telekinesis... i'd still prefer people think about their symptom, dreaded as it is, as a sensitivity which minds, regarding the existence of a soul, and experiences the materialistic "reality" of people, who give no foundation for exploring the theme of uprooting their body from the matter and the dead that binds the eyes to decay, and lifting it toward the status of the ethereal... it's plain and simple with me: sorry professors, you have to sense these materialistic endeavours in others, who'd lie that it's you.

is it just me?
  why do i find that the lack of medical
dualism, i.e. regarding depression
as the physical abnormality
of lethary,
i.e. a brain in a pickle-jar:
is emerging as the "hippocratic"
  dichotomy of the motto:
i will inflict no harm,
should i find no alleviation...
human rights my ***...
   spread of democracy my ***...
you group the mentally "ill"
with the retards...
you're breaking something
of worthwhile consideration...
for some reason
psychiatry exists within
the sphere of medicine:
but outside the sphere
of the hippocratic oath...
irony?
  i don't think so,
"mental illness" has more
of a political basis
than a medical term...
since few people find
interest in it...
   i can count england
as a proud violator of
psychiatric endeavour...
  and, in that anti-cartesian
narrative i have in my
head...
  most of the time it's
not cogito ergo sum that
pops into my head...
rather?
    3, tiny words, as follows:
go **** yourself,
and i stress the most hidden
of sarcasm's worth
ever expressed...
          again:
   psychiatry is in the sphere
of medicine, but it's
   outside the sphere
of the hippocratic oath...
i was talking to this one
schizophrenic in a dark alley
and he said be unfathomable
stories from an asylum,
he cited anti-psychotic
medication...
   you know he said?
'oh, those pills had the effect
on my friend in the asylum,
where he grew a pair of ****!'
my my... ain't that a truth
worth remembering...
   so what's supposed to be
anti-psychotic medication,
is akin to hormone pushers?
i bet the guy didn't want
to join the transgender community...
      then again,
what if you took that strait-jacket
off him, and sent him down
the track, competing with
castor... ****, sorry, caster semenya,
you think he'd... she'd, it'd win?
god knows i tried jerking off
to that 8th wonder of the world...
but that's what psychiatry is...
covert sadism,
     institutional sadism...
     psychiatry entertains the notion
of being medicine,
   while in fact remaining outside
the hippocratic dogma...
no dentists really wakes up one
day and say: time to pull out the wrong
teeth...
rarely a surgeon says to himself:
make sure you forget and leave
a surgical tool in the body after sewing
it up post-operation...
   well... given the "medical"
angle of philosophy and buddha's "wise"
sayings about the illusion
of the cognitive self...
       i'm pretty **** sure
a lot of psychiatrists wake up and say:
time, to, play, and **** around
       with this guy's or this gal's ego
matrix of thought.
   sure, the self, otherwise known in
existentialist texts as the "self" can be
illusionary, but sure as **** sherlock:
thinking ain't.
    i even managed to hear a confession
from one psychiatrists,
   he even brought a psychiatry student
to suss me out...
   all i did was take out my cognitive "mirror"
and hear him ramble out
   a sentence:
   he must have been abused, as a child.
me? abused?
    sure, i had an alcoholic grandfather...
   but it's also the same grandfather
that sometimes buys my cigarettes,
        and, fair to say:
bought me the philosophy library
  of the *gazeta wyborcza
... 25 books...
the one i spent most of my summers with...
clearly this sinjit broopatal of a psychiatrist
(he was asian, sorry) was
talking about himself,
   slip of tongue, and i started thinking:
did he mean to think that,
or say it out-loud?
             psychiatry deems itself
a medical profession,
   yet its practice and ethical condunct
lies outside the hippocratic oath.
David R Jun 2021
rat-a-tat-tat, the metal annihilator
taught our ears its foreign tongue,
in the hands of violator
takka takka's sung

sowing death and violation
hungry for the mutilation
of a child, of a nation,
brat-a-tat spells termination

it was the third primordial sinning,
first was greed, then came envy,
as long as greed 'n envy's winning,
third is sure to make his entry

bloodshed with green mama, jealousy,
goaded by lust, spouse, father, king,
as one, begetters with their progeny,
takka takka sing

altogether, takka takka takka,
baby, child, mamma 'n pappa,
in the name of Phi Theta Kappa
takka takka sing
progeny
BLT's Merriam-Webster Word of The Day Challenge
mitus Dec 2017
I’m glad I met you
I’m glad we split
I gave you a nickname and I called you boo
It was cute until that very day that you hit
Me.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,”
I cried
To myself
“This is the way it’s supposed to be.”
It was hard to see the light that day

I’m glad I met you
I’m glad we split
I no longer pick up your phone calls at two am
You sob and plead and beg me back
I disagree and do not crack

Here we are, once again
You show up at my door
And swear in vain
I slam the door
And your heart breaks
I don’t mind
For you hurt me
I wish for you to no longer plea
As I will press charges against thee

You come back
I stand away
You hold a rusty pipe found by the corner coming up the staircase
You strike me right in the face
You continue to beat me
With no remorse
I force
My way elsewhere from you maniac
You flee
I curl up in the closet near the pile of your *****, old shirts
I should’ve burned a long time ago
My neighbors find me
Soaked in dried, scarlet red, blood
They know no English
And scream in Spanish
“¡Juan, llama a la policía! Tenemos que ayudar a Missy a salir del armario.”
I feel her large body swish around paper towels and wet them with tap water
She returns back with aspirin and everything she could to
Help me?
“No no no no no NO. Quédate quieto, no retrocedes. La ambulancia estará aqui pronto.”
Frustration occurs.

You return
Couple weeks later,
See me in pain
I call you insane
You are documented
Not only am I fermented
But my wish came true
For you are an official abuser and violator.

For when I see my last true light
I will always finish this fight.
So I’m glad I met you
I’m glad we split
Next time bud,
Stick to the script.
Graff1980 Apr 2018
What a shame
that full of ****
misogynist
moves with
deliberate
dickishness
looking for a
a sacrificial
lamb
to feed
his drunken
hunger,

that slick
slinking
trickster
who confuses
the masses
and misuses
the women
who view him
as an authority figure.

I would
burn this *******
well,
metaphorically,
give him
a sea of grief,
but it seems
people put him up
as a visionary,
which is scary
cause what I see
is a vile violator
of humanity.
Ruheen Apr 2019
What is the point of human rights if we don't acknowledge the fact that people have them?
As soon as you're born, you have them. Simply because you're human.
But acting human is a whole different thing.
Humans aren't machines.
We shouldn't be controlled.
People cannot tell us whether we deserve those rights or not, even if we don't.
In the end, we still have them.
But what's the point if we're not respected for having them?
Maybe it depends on an individual person.
We may think that someone doesn't deserve any rights, but they think that they do.
They may think that we don't deserve them, but we think that we do.
But when you think about it, our 'worth' is what decides if we 'deserve' to have rights or not.
It's almost like an unspoken rule;
Popularity triumphs all.
And though there are exceptions, that 'rule' still exists.
Popularity, money, fame.
Things that can vanish within a matter of time.
Our lives?
Not the same.
We all have the right to be human.
We can't choose not to be human,
But we can choose to be a good or bad one.
People violate human rights day-to-day, right in front of us.
And we just sit and watch.
We're bystanders.
And, honestly?
That's worse than being the violator.
Inspired by something I read.
There are 30 articles. 30 rights. We all have them. And they cannot be taken away.
Bullying, discrimination, false accusations. All of these violate at least 3 or 4 articles. And this happens every single day.
Human Rights is probably the most ironic things humans have ever created.
What's the point? Seriously?! I mean, why create something that isn't even going to be acknowledged?!
More people know about osmosis that they do about human rights, something that they've had since the day they were born. (Probably an exaggeration, but you get what I mean!)
I'm pretty sure the United Nations isn't happy with how things have turned out.

*lets out a long breath*
*sighs*
*smiles sheepishly*

Anyway, sorry for the long rant. Enjoy?
just dawned upon me awareness today
April 20th, 2022 14:30 military time.

Unvoiced law of the land
obeyed lest one
who owns temporary priority
will get mad and deliver hex
upon generations of violator
even if parked car property
of an innocent visitor,
who knew not the space
self relegated to Matthew Scott.

Fifth anniversary of our occupancy
housed within one bedroom apartment
additionally, familiarly, and specifically
known to us as B44
will occur July first
two thousand and twenty two.

Soon after we,
(yours truly and the missus)
moved here first day of seventh month
two thousand and seventeen
both of us unanimously co-opted
select parking space.

For residents at highland manor Apartments
self assigned parking exists here,
and each resident better be conscientious
cuz resulting consequence
(think Monty Python's Flying Circus
forever linkedin courtesy
John Philip Sousa's
'The Liberty Bell' March),
where mean strong arm of law

actually disguised as
animated outsize foot
see https://www.youtube.com
/watch?v=2AxiATxLofk
reaches from out the sky
and crushes wayward miscreant
hence verboten to dare occupy
parking space of another.

Fond memories associated
with me attempting to back into
between painted (occasionally
blurred) lines describing
open ended box,
whereby after umpteen attempts
(after shearing off tire tread
of driver or left passenger side)
amidst guffaws uttered by spouse,
she insists to take over
and backs in with nary a hitch.

Such unspoken accommodation
also prevailed when I happened
to consider myself a perpetual student
and established voluntarily
choosing a catbird seat,
and remaining steadfast sitting
in same chair
(of course I mean only
during time class in session)
throughout the semester.
Chuck Kean Aug 2020
Black Widow

    You know it’s hard for me
To see the truth in your eyes
When you’ve spent so many years
Spinning out your web of lies

I thought that you loved me, you
Kept your true feelings well in disguise
I was just your back up lover
When there were no other guys

You captured me and took a swift bite
I was just another delicious find
You wrapped yourself around my heart
And refused to unwind

You took what you wanted
Like a viscous ****** violator
And you would set me aside
So you could save me for later

I was lost in a cloud of deception
My eyes were in a hypnotic glaze
I was trapped in a trance
Of your poisonous haze

When I saw through the charade you
Left me and nightly tears stain my pillow
After the mating you devoured me
Like the deadly Black Widow

Written By:Charles Kean
Copyright © 08/11/2020
All rights reserved

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