I am ashamed
I know what I have done is a sin
I can only hope the gods will forgive me
She will never forgive my evil deeds
No need to plead
Time and time again, I have aggressively acted
I can only hold my head in shame
Yes I have beaten my wife
Over and over and over
Twenty times at last count
I have beaten her to the fridge
I was first to the ice cream, no matter the flavor
But justice was always served
She would tickle me
Until that luscious erotic bowl of ice cream
Fell into her lap
We both laughing at our naughty little sins
Ice cream kisses……………
Copyright © arthur vaso
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!
Copyright © Anoucheka Gangabissoon
Green Eyed Monster - A Love Story
So, I headed home to me flat from a hard day’s night
Working in the coal mines for a quid or two
“Just outside Londondary”, me says, when some busy body inquires
I goes right home to find me bed
Right quick and fast since I’m exhausted
I finds me ugly gal Sal with some guy there
Doing some unkind deeds upon me pillow
That I can’t rightly explain right here and now
Being a gentlemanly kinda fellow that I am and seeing red
I says to Sal, “Watcha doing deary?!” “What’s that in me bed?”
She says, “Nuffin love.” “I just finished the wash and found this bloke in here
And I’m all flustered, and as surprised as you.”
As a rule me complexion is as white as these sheets once were
I becomes hysterical, flushed and weird and fumbles for me gun
“Where’s me bullets deary!” I query of the misses.
But she’s as quiet as a mouse.
Now I’m in a frenzy and frothing at the mouth
“Don’t let me get me belt out or a knife!” I yells out to the wife
“Let’s keep it nice and easy!”
I finds the bullets, fills the chambers, shoots in their direction
I missed them both
But halted the copulation or repopulation
Which ever comes first
Created on 11/25/14 for “The Green Eyed Monster” – Poetry Contest
Copyright © Earl Schumacker
I forgot to set the parking brake.
So now my wife's car is in the lake.
You're looking at a man who can never catch a break.
My wife kicked my ass just because I made a mistake.
She broke my left leg and I'm having to use a crutch.
I don't blame her for being mad but coming at me with a chainsaw is a bit too much.
(This is a fictional poem)
Copyright © randy johnson
Through and through though more to do-
A thousand thoughts to misconstrue!
Too long I've waited, too sad and sedated
To live a lie I declare is true...
And so it seems that in my dreams
I bathe myself in Moonlight beams
That light the night, turn black to white
And will slit my throat at any means!
Copyright © Just That Archaic Poet
I forgave you once, for your behavior
I forgave you twice, for your actions
all the while you're stabbing my heart with a butcher knife
with Every Strike!
I take a bow
Lord, let me live somehow!
I promise, I'll leave him tomorrow!
I beg and I plead for my life
As my nose bleeds blood onto the floor
You strike me again and call me a whore!
I can't take it, I gasp for breath as you try to
Choke me to death
Something breaks the trance, a knock at the door
"Stay here you evil witch" you whisper as you fling my head to the side
I moan, and I cry, wonder~how could I end up with this type of guy
I shudder when I hear the door slam shut
cuz I know you'll only be nice for a while,
you'll walk around with that pretty smile,
You'll give me hugs, kisses, cuddles and great sex
You'll cook for me, clean the house, take me out
Everyday you're ripping my stitches out
because I forgive you time and time again
And your actions Never Change
You're not a nice man.
And you don't deserve me at my best or at my worst.
You don't deserve my forgiveness;
so you're getting my curse
2-18-15 for Forgiveness Poetry Contest.
Copyright © Butterfly Mantra
I put my hands around my wife's throat and I squeezed.
What disturbs me is that when she died, I was pleased.
When it came to having morals, I used to believe that I had some.
But every time I look in the mirror, I'm horrified to see what I've become.
My wife was so mean and she loved to provoke.
Life became intolerable every time she spoke.
She told me over and over how ugly and stupid that I am.
I snapped and killed her and now my soul has been damned.
I want to go to the Cops but they would lock me up for life, I would never again be free.
But that's only if I would get lucky, it's more likely that I would receive the death penalty.
When it came to my problems, she was the source.
If I hadn't snapped, I might have considered divorce.
As each day passed, that witch became even colder.
I'll spend the rest of my days looking over my shoulder.
She was a horrible Human Being and she loved to annoy me.
I'll never stop fearing that the Cops are closing in and that will eventually destroy me.
(This is a fictional poem)
Copyright © randy johnson