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Violence Marriage Poems | Violence Poems About Marriage

These Violence Marriage poems are examples of Violence poems about Marriage. These are the best examples of Violence Marriage poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Rhyme | |

Husbands are in heaven whose wives scold not

So much emphasis is placed today on the role of the wife She is to be pure, pristine, just, hardworking She is to imbibe all who surround her with faith She needs to be able to know everything without ever asking She is to be the woman behind her husband The one who would make of him a gem To be a wife, is surely a complicated state Acted out badly, one can even be a contraband! But what of the duties of a man, Is he as important as the woman To be a husband requires one only to work and bring money To care not whether the home is, without him, in harmony Husbands are in heaven whose wives scold not Husbands have rights, rights to use words of spite Rights to beat, rights to abuse Rights even to cheat, to hurt and bruise When the woman speaks out, or scolds such a man She becomes something seen by some as a legend Seen by others as un-womanly Whatever, she knows how to protect herself through her duty What of those men whose wives scold not Should they be brought back to the pot To be cooked and simmered To be brought to the right path Feminists, equal rights, equal opportunities Women's places no more being in the kitchen Husbands, change your mentalities We, women, we are frail and easily broken!

Details | Blank verse | |

I Don't Like Knives for Carole

based on a dream

I Don't Like Knives (for Carole, eternal love. This is all fiction except Carole)
I was jogging down by the canal when I saw it happen. There was a slim pretty brunette lady. The madman leapt out of the bushes. His evil carving knife plunged deep into the girl. She fell to the ground. Again and again he stabbed her. 
I shouted, "Hey!" 
Upon seeing me the cruel killer fled. Good. I didn't want to be stabbed and I was unarmed. I rushed to the girl. She was an awful mess. Bloodied, crying, hurt. I mustn't freeze. 
I took off my t-shirt to stop her bleeding and held it on her wounds. Blood flow thrust my hands back. I increased pressure. The girl moaned, trembled and became white. 
Stay with me, I said. I kept saying it. Don't close your eyes. What's your name? 
Carole, she whispered.
I'm Nick. Stay with me. 
I want to sleep. Her hands shook, held my arm. A death grip.
No! Listen to me... I told her crazy things. Was I mad, going out of my mind? Her blood was everywhere. Fucking awful. 
Carole, I love you. I love you Carole. Those lovely brown almond shaped eyes opened and connected with mine. I was falling. 
What did you say? So faint. 
I love you Carole. Stay with me. Stay with me, you hear? A smile. My love for you will save you. I love you. Stay with me. Stay with me. I never said the death word. 
The sound of sirens. I never called the medics. Who did? The murderer? There's only us here. Carole and Nick. If he comes back to finish Carole and me off, he's going into the fucking canal. I see the medics and armed police. I keep pressure on Carole's wounds. 
Stay with me. I love you Carole. A faint smile. Don't close your eyes. Stay with me...
Carole did stay with me. Not as a bad memory or flash backs but as my wife. Five years, three months, one week and two days and counting. Her injuries should of killed three times over. But didn't. She's in a wheel chair with a severed spine. I won't ever leave her side. Not ever.
They got their man. After shooting him twice. It was he who called the medics. Why? Did he feel guilty of his act or was he playing a sick game? Or trying to make amends? Whatever his reason, he brought Carole and me together. For that we are grateful.