Poems about Violence
#violence
Poems about violence, the destructive force of physical behaviour intended to hurt, damage, or kill someone or something. Here you'll find poems about violence between individuals, groups and in society as a whole. Poetry dealing with violence can be confrontational and emotional, exploring the effects of violence on victims and loved ones.
Indie
Miss Indie
Miss Indie
Poem Published
Yesterday 10:49pm
Yesterday 10:49pm
Stacy
I dreamed your boyfriend
beat a social worker half to death
and I didn't step in because
I didn't want to end up that shade of broken
And I hate that helplessness
that I couldn't stop a violent tirade
of jealousy
because your social worker
just happened to be a man
and your boyfriend
is the kind of crazy that sees threats
in outstretched hands
And you, you didn't do anything
because you never do anything
too busy looking in a mirror
making sure you're flawless
and perfect
while the world...
beat a social worker half to death
and I didn't step in because
I didn't want to end up that shade of broken
And I hate that helplessness
that I couldn't stop a violent tirade
of jealousy
because your social worker
just happened to be a man
and your boyfriend
is the kind of crazy that sees threats
in outstretched hands
And you, you didn't do anything
because you never do anything
too busy looking in a mirror
making sure you're flawless
and perfect
while the world...
#violence
#dreams
#vanity
#DomesticViolence
#fear
28 reads
3 Comments
BlkLyrycE
Poem Published
Yesterday 5:06pm
Yesterday 5:06pm
I'll Wait
#violence
#LifeStruggles
#racism
#frustration
#HumanRights
11 reads
0 Comments
Casted_Runes
Poem Published
12th May 2022 1:07pm
12th May 2022 1:07pm
The Party Favour
That's all she was, I suppose:
A piece of chocolate in a bowl,
handed about as a thanks
for attending the bash.
A piece of chocolate in a bowl,
handed about as a thanks
for attending the bash.
#violence
#abuse
44 reads
0 Comments
I_IS_ME
Poem Published
12th May 2022 2:29am
12th May 2022 2:29am
Cornerboy
i come equipped with a nine fucking ready to bust
Grabbing the Bowie off the mantel and commence to thrust
I'm looking to get a smile out of what was once disgust
This is not really hate, I just don't really trust
But I blow back like ex-lax
Slammed in another clip and released the extract
Fucking pistol popping bitches are soon forgotten
Just point his ass out and I promise I got him
Tightly doing this shit up close or long range with a scope
Camouflaged in the treeline, sniper rifle, I'm no fucking joke
Leave his ass floating as...
Grabbing the Bowie off the mantel and commence to thrust
I'm looking to get a smile out of what was once disgust
This is not really hate, I just don't really trust
But I blow back like ex-lax
Slammed in another clip and released the extract
Fucking pistol popping bitches are soon forgotten
Just point his ass out and I promise I got him
Tightly doing this shit up close or long range with a scope
Camouflaged in the treeline, sniper rifle, I'm no fucking joke
Leave his ass floating as...
#violence
#drugs
#WritingPoetry
37 reads
0 Comments
Casted_Runes
Poem Published
7th May 2022 5:20pm
7th May 2022 5:20pm
A Death in Cromer
#violence
#horror
27 reads
0 Comments
Casted_Runes
Poem Published
3rd May 2022 10:58pm
3rd May 2022 10:58pm
What a Woman Means to Me
an essay
I wanted to write out my thoughts and feelings on the subject of the late American crime writer Patricia Highsmith in the context of what she and her work means to me in an essay because prose is a more analytical medium than poetry, which is more concerned I think with wit and beauty. I have written a poem on the subject, which you can find in my recent bibliography under the title “A Toxic Woman”, and thought about writing another. But to exorcise this demon I need to understand it, so to speak. Which isn’t to say that I want this essay to be dark or depressing at...
I wanted to write out my thoughts and feelings on the subject of the late American crime writer Patricia Highsmith in the context of what she and her work means to me in an essay because prose is a more analytical medium than poetry, which is more concerned I think with wit and beauty. I have written a poem on the subject, which you can find in my recent bibliography under the title “A Toxic Woman”, and thought about writing another. But to exorcise this demon I need to understand it, so to speak. Which isn’t to say that I want this essay to be dark or depressing at...
#violence
#fiction
#nonfiction
87 reads
4 Comments
S-m-sawyer
Poem Published
3rd May 2022 3:19pm
3rd May 2022 3:19pm
Troubled youth..
I look to the street's with a tear in my eye,
They're filled with troubled youth,
And I ask myself why?
Another one stabbed as we look to the sky
Another family broken while they scream and they cry.
Be yourself, that's what they say,
Then put you under pressure to act a certain way,
Life is not a movie, there will be no sequel, why oh why can we not just treat each other equal,
This is my preach, to the blood stained streets, do not listen to all of the media leaks
A country being ran by corruption and a...
They're filled with troubled youth,
And I ask myself why?
Another one stabbed as we look to the sky
Another family broken while they scream and they cry.
Be yourself, that's what they say,
Then put you under pressure to act a certain way,
Life is not a movie, there will be no sequel, why oh why can we not just treat each other equal,
This is my preach, to the blood stained streets, do not listen to all of the media leaks
A country being ran by corruption and a...
#corruption
#violence
#LifeStruggles
#inequality
#rebellion
97 reads
0 Comments
CruelHandedWriter
Jamie Rhodes
Jamie Rhodes
Poem Published
28th Apr 2022 10:02pm
28th Apr 2022 10:02pm
The brutes with no real firepower
I don't know how anyone does it.
Not now my own lawn is well kept.
The flowers watered.
The roses pruned.
She is only 21.
Old for her age.
Old enough to lay beside me
From time to time
Even though some might dissent.
She dresses in such a way
That I always want her.
That feeling never goes away,
In fact,
recently it has kept me up most nights
In the hope that she'll use the room key
I leave in an abadoned running shoe.
She is a barmaid
With no real closing time.
And the brutes, ...
Not now my own lawn is well kept.
The flowers watered.
The roses pruned.
She is only 21.
Old for her age.
Old enough to lay beside me
From time to time
Even though some might dissent.
She dresses in such a way
That I always want her.
That feeling never goes away,
In fact,
recently it has kept me up most nights
In the hope that she'll use the room key
I leave in an abadoned running shoe.
She is a barmaid
With no real closing time.
And the brutes, ...
#love
#violence
#feminism #support
#feminism #support
94 reads
2 Comments
MelancholicDreamer
Poem Published
27th Apr 2022 1:06pm
27th Apr 2022 1:06pm
New age of bellicosity
Wars all around the world
It's always the same
But now everyone wants more weapons
They believe the propaganda
"More weapons mean more security"
The opposite is true
This madness won't stop if we continue walking this path
It might just get worse
The only ones benifitting are weapon industries
There are no winners
At least not among citizens
Everyone looks to Ukraine and Russia
But when turkey drops bombs everyone looks away
Its always been this way but now pacifists are called friends of Putin...
It's always the same
But now everyone wants more weapons
They believe the propaganda
"More weapons mean more security"
The opposite is true
This madness won't stop if we continue walking this path
It might just get worse
The only ones benifitting are weapon industries
There are no winners
At least not among citizens
Everyone looks to Ukraine and Russia
But when turkey drops bombs everyone looks away
Its always been this way but now pacifists are called friends of Putin...
#corruption
#violence
#politics
#war
#rebellion
66 reads
2 Comments
Casted_Runes
Poem Published
22nd Apr 2022 6:26pm
22nd Apr 2022 6:26pm
The Shocking Thing
on cycles of abuse
the unloved become
the unloving
unless they find a fresh resource,
a desert spring
to drink from and bathe in
be it some avatar of love,
a God or therapist or just
a theme of loving touch.
if left alone
the last remaining flora dies
and leaves behind the savages
gathered outside the door,
demanding Lot's daughters.
the only shocking thing
is that we refuse
to understand this
the unloved become
the unloving
unless they find a fresh resource,
a desert spring
to drink from and bathe in
be it some avatar of love,
a God or therapist or just
a theme of loving touch.
if left alone
the last remaining flora dies
and leaves behind the savages
gathered outside the door,
demanding Lot's daughters.
the only shocking thing
is that we refuse
to understand this
#violence
#abuse
#DomesticViolence
103 reads
6 Comments
cabcool
Poem Published
19th Apr 2022 4:13am
19th Apr 2022 4:13am
war
No matter how many arms and legs the war cuts off,
how many blind and deaf people it creates, no matter how many deaths it causes,
there will always be morally rotten demons and mentally incompetent morons who
want war!”― Mehmet Murat ildan
the bark of guns
the belch of flames
the ricochet
of wicked games
no one can understand
the smoke of fire
the stench of flesh
the stain of blood
spilled long and fresh
red rivers in the land
such is the fate
of senseless men
wounded by pride ...
how many blind and deaf people it creates, no matter how many deaths it causes,
there will always be morally rotten demons and mentally incompetent morons who
want war!”― Mehmet Murat ildan
the bark of guns
the belch of flames
the ricochet
of wicked games
no one can understand
the smoke of fire
the stench of flesh
the stain of blood
spilled long and fresh
red rivers in the land
such is the fate
of senseless men
wounded by pride ...
#conflict
#violence
#war
#death
#NaPoWriMo2022
82 reads
2 Comments
_feral
Poem Published
18th Apr 2022 12:14pm
18th Apr 2022 12:14pm
post pub night
it's half
an hour
past pub
night
spread
my dirty wings
hang up
another
line,
she's banging
on the door
asking for
a light
new tricks
older than
white lies,
no shame
left behind
her eyes
no shame
left behind
her eyes,
no shame
left behind
her eyes.
an hour
past pub
night
spread
my dirty wings
hang up
another
line,
she's banging
on the door
asking for
a light
new tricks
older than
white lies,
no shame
left behind
her eyes
no shame
left behind
her eyes,
no shame
left behind
her eyes.
#anger
#violence
#alcohol
77 reads
0 Comments
DU Poetry : Poems about Violence
