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Best Conflict Poems

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Details | Conflict Poem |

Death of the Poet Destroyer

~The Untold Fatal Attraction Poem~

Mid-morning she sees the sun ahead
Her death flowed in a messaged bottle
Gazing into her brown eyes upon all open sores,
Her conscience dark and gray a never-ending war!
A giant cyclone of a thousand thoughts swirled around this little girl.
Inflicting away the pain, through the comfort of others pen
The way she twisted and twisted life’s perception was out of her control
Inside she knew the glass slipper was never hers to show off
 
She is baring nothing but a tainted pen, walking throughout eternity’s sand
A prosecutor of misdeeds, accomplishing what, without knowing the way
Departing from her fractured self, she begins to slip into a righteous form,
Twirling her twilight's pen like a baton, spinning it to one final stand
 
She awakens in a dream, where her sadness does not allow the light to reform
Her body is weak and pale against the birth of her undying sun
Staring down into the deepness of every-bodies abyss
Inside all souls is where she felt lighter, than the retarded sun gives
A crimson sky follows her just to reveal her diminished soul,
A life of shunning out the city glow will always dwell deep inside her
Sleeping under society as one, insulting the taste of innocent blood
Forgetting the vengeance, in a dimension where the pen is mightier than the sword
 
How did she let it come to this?
In one feeling she fell in love with the spirit of the living rhyme 
Watching from a cave, with a diabolical look
Refusing to grasp the self - nature and kill off the destroyer's will
A price beyond this enigmatic world, craving to be just like them
Condemning her meaning to a blasphemy of white butterflies
Destroying her poetic meaning that was destined to dance a tangle of endless rage
In love with the essence of her deceased will
She clings on to the dimness and brilliance at the same time
All corpses lost beyond the girl in question,
Sympathetic in a bizarre language, she mutters out sweetness
Her heart mended, recognizing all the adoration and poetic addiction
Exchanging the real terror, fixated by the life force of her poetic destruction
Giving birth to a new revelation
Now she will never deceive her love for the making of true art,
Not wanting to belong in this wretched world with her destroying criteria,
Her soul sails looking for a new era where love will no longer generate
As she loathes the love and decides not to destroy this generation with hate

At last, longing this one day with the angel of death
With a closing teardrop, one last thought
My death will not be the end; only the ascension~

by;pd


Details | Conflict Poem |

White Picket Fence

Featuring: SCRAP METAL
----------------------
Fresh sand garments 
The Mental Colosseum floor
Self infliction's--waging wars 
----------------------

~ AND THE POEM BEGINS ~

A mask, tiny holes
Breathing heavily
Dancing around my toes
Broad carbon steel
Safe behind my will
Equipment of revenge
Fencing the world with my eyes

I bow, with the morning dew,
 My mind a dual in its own world.
When the curtains lift,
I prepare myself with a weapon--   
Epee Crest to protect my chest
A sword sharper than  fangs
I circle my blade around the door knob 
Ready to face the world 
Practicing --in hopes today I won't retreat

“Fencers ready!"
ATTACK!
A magical knightress
Painted in white
"Let's dance!"

~ THE SHOW BEGINS ~

Queen Amri  "VS" The Damsel 
Wishing it was over
Stainless steel echoes
“Every poke counts”
 Hoping & Taking
 
No room to disengage   ---I retreat
Peacefully I secure my stance 
On Guard!
I lean in, I disengage  ---I flee
Back again, I lunge 
The Queen is to smart to retreat
I -Amri, parry away from the argument of the lunge.
Recoil & Double tapped
In and out….. I'm struck
Boldness---
Back to the drawing board
On guard, I stand like a statue
Out of breath; feels like i’m dying
Yet I am still fighting.
The Queen knows what to do.   
TODAY~
I Yield, She Wins!

Raising our foils 
---At the on guard of another day

I move in swiftly, cutting like razor blades
Using refreshed energy
24 / 7 
I attack, She provokes!
Sand runs its course
Victorious against the queen
Touch – tied – triumph -- Touché
Standing on my own 2 feet

I am the 
-Grand Finale Show-
Conquering The Battles Inside
TODAY~
-I WIN!-

by;PD


Details | Conflict Poem |

Demon Below

Demon Below

Adam, his moves is like no other, 
Thank you for taking the knife out my back
A dagger I ignored, 
until the odor of hate kept pushing the blade deeper than before
Adam, dear, don't think less of me, 
since I will voice my vicious words once more
The way the stranger slicked and slithered in a worm like movement
I was hooked, I admit, biting the apple for the second time
I will no longer bite my tongue, 
watch as I hand over the dull knife back to this dark lonely shadow

Blind under the unguarded tree, a quick voice drew me in
The way it came at me, like a friend holding hands, covering my back, 
A paradise in his own mind, a moat of quicksand, my foot sunk in

Offering his game, 
A stench I ignored, building friendships, trusting the new employee 
I don't run with the sheep, 
must I be punished for accepting his bouquet of daisies
Adam, I can't take this, the way he slanders, our name
Must I make a fool, from he who's been bitten by fools before
I don't wish to go down this road, but I have no choice
These sneaky attacks, are the weakest form of sinning
In a way I kind of feel sad, and wish he bathe his words in chlorine
A reptile, like the chameleon, I did not see this one coming.
The only theft that took place, was when the stranger took my friendship
And shook the devils hand, in front of me, laughing at the notion
Of never having my back, a slap in the face, for luring him my way
Adam, you are my man, you are tall, 
Like a lady I will step back and let you take care of it all.

----------------------

Eve look,
Who is that dark stranger squatting sickly,
Yelping about theft from inside that dying oak tree in the ditch,
Do you smell him with that rancid rage, jealousy jingling in eyes,
He wears reptile hide sown together with rat's tails,
Listen Luv, he's speaking of cliffs and crosses,
Warning us about constructing original ideas, original Love,
He sounds like some prancing paper preacher,
A pen with no story, a plan with no passion,
He claims our journey as his own
Yet he has no Woman, no Holy Rod,
His only charm is a dried pig's tail tied around his arm,

Now he throws mud in your direction like a burnt bully,
Remain here Eve, this is a dangerous animal,
I will go over there to quiet his madness as hammers lay rest to nails,

Eve, that demon told me we should rewind our ambition
Back to the garden of glee, back to where life is free,
Tried to persuade me to abandon you like rain from sky,
Eve My luv, he said things against your virtue,
I felt anger as war feels frenzy
And rammed my fist through his mouth,
He has violated the wrong Kingdom,
We will laugh over the carcass 
Of his patheticness as we bury him,



A Poets Collaboration:  Adam & Eve


Details | Conflict Poem |

Karma

Yesterday, I followed her true invisible form
Colors turning a kaleidoscopic deep and warm

A state of mind, that makes reality feel alive
Stabbing moments that teach how tough it is to survive
And still this dagger is penetrating into my back real slow
Sweeping away the grimace under the rug in a one woman show 

Illusive dreams asking for more and more
Sinking with doom, as karma sways through heaven's door
There she keeps her walk on stilts avoiding kismet
Removing every single footprint before sunset

Spending eternity planning the bliss we cannot see
Quenching my confidence, with a moisture that pleasures me
Arching a dirty deed, aiming all fingers that point at me
Spreading her demonic ecstasy, a mass of light weight, we can't see

A giggle-some laugh, I cannot hear
Tainted, in a nefarious way as the night disappears
Delighted, she glistens through the celestial world alone
A whisper of love with an impossible auspicious tone

Epic and exquisite, she works incognito striking whomever she wants
She Is The Enigma!" She Is the Illness~ that forever haunts
A mysterious lady whose perception flows with her own timeless oasis
An Empress is working on her own simplicity basis

My body impervious to react to conflicts that dwell with deep desire
Aggressively my defiant ways will allow her excessive universe to transpire
Like a lily we give in to the beauty of her empress exploding ravenous lust
It's magical and feeds off of the revenge that deepens with thrust

Down in the lilac valley, storming down like a glacier leaving nothing below
We caress we emerge, then we dust off the repellent of her forsaken glow
Leaving us with wounds, when our conflicts ricochet
Impacting us with a rebound when everything bounces back our way

She Springs in like a breeze that dwells and leaves gallivant
Past shadows, swing back with a darker chant
Leaving nothing but a Chinese Aster garden terrace
Her crown, sheer vixen and vigor with Victoria's fantastical lace

Her candle desalinate effect with a gentle glow
Everything to her is an issue with the results that come and go
Karma's punishments sail real slow, against the wind, waged by the zephyr
Rebuilding from the aftermath of, Karma's payback splenetic weather

Close your eyes and feel the consequences we embrace
Secretly every wage comes with reward from our hubris sin
A grasp with no escapes from the repercussion and deeds in our hearts
Doors spillover, in a significant unexplained phenomenal start

...


Details | Conflict Poem |

Nightmares and Razor Blades

I stare at my ceiling,
I start to wonder, why am I not healing?
Then it dawns on me,
The nightmare clip starts to roll.
I shake and shiver and wince at every little thing.
I'm scared to death, 
What does this all mean?
I start to cry,
I feel as if I might die.
Then I grab my blade, 
The tears come quicker.
My breath starts to quicken,
My grip on the blade makes my knuckles turn white.
In the mirror is where I see that my ivory skin is now blotchy and red.
I tell myself, "This may be the last time, if you finally cut deep enough."
So I try my best not to make a sound 
As I sit up in bed and hold my wrist out in front of me. 
I count to three,
One, 
I put the blade to my wrist.
Two,
I start to add pressure.
Three,
I yank the blade across my skin,
It pierces and then I start to bleed.
I suddenly want it to stop, 
But there's no going back now. 
I wonder why it came to this,
I know nobody cares about me,
I know nobody is going to forget me.
Quietly I say, "I'm sorry."
But nobody is there,
No one will ever be.
I start to fade out of this world,
My addiction would finally be gone,
And so would I.
I was lost, 
Lost and angry. 
Suddenly, it was gone,
I woke up screaming.
The pain was oh-so real.


Details | Conflict Poem |

THE BROKEN DOLL

Walls of silence hold,
 Me prisoner,
The child held within,
 Cries out for release.
Relative solitude comforts, 
Not the tortured soul,
Inward coiling withdrawing,
 Deep inside. 
Shedding its outer skins,
 Protective
Layer thus preserving its,
 Inner being.
Innocents shroud lies in ruins.
Gentle spirit, cast aside wings,
 Damaged appendages.
The fallen angel kneels in,
 Shame,
Shadows before mankind.
Unanswered prays rest upon,
 Deaf ears.
Muted sobs, echo on stilled,
 Winds breath.
Hardening to stone, the
 Chilled heart
 Reflects frozen repose.
Forgotten amongst mine own,
 Kindred,
Childhood symbolizes a betrayed,
 Victim’s refuge.
Small fragile hands reach out,
 Into nothingness,
Hollow space grasping into,
 Oblivion.
Chained shackles twist,
 Imaginations warped view,
Somber tones cloud troubled,
 Thoughts.
Amidst life's trials, I'm aimlessly,
 Adrift,
Without any form of stability.
I, alone remain shambles,
 Wreckage.
Displaced and damaged,
Beyond repair.
A broken doll thrown away,
By those who should have, 
Cared for her the most.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN


Details | Conflict Poem |

RED ANGEL

RED  ANGEL

I see the fire in your eyes!
This Red Angel, who's not human, intriguing with lies.
Pointing to the path that leads to paradise.
Ending Revelations with violence, breaking every inch of ice.

Blazing wings like the sunset over a field of corn.
A row of roses with rubies sharper than a thorn.
A devious smile covering up a set of horns.
Diluting me with images, since the day I was born.

Goose bumps when your essence is near.
I linger and shiver my lips with fear.
A slithery hypnotic tongue, the Red Angel wipes away my tear.
Holding the reddish key, whispering the word. "FREEDOM!"Into my ear.

Like the crimson tide lifting me from drowning at his request. 
I find my heart pondering deeper and deeper within my chest.
Blessed with the curse of 'death' when my demons are depressed.
I'm still smiling to the sweet surrender of your breath.

A halo exploding like the fur of a volcano filled with lava.
Allowing the angel's advocate around~like a tree of strawberry guava.
Swallowing my own drops of red blood from my own saliva.
Living like the dead after a full bottle of vodka.

I beg for mercy at the Red Angels cow like feet.
Collapsing with sweat in his sweet eternal heat.
Gasping for the fresh air to avoid the smell of rotten meat.
I see the aura of an angel with his fangs ready to feast  and eat.

Falling into a daze towards the red picket fence.
My Red House engraved with flames, after my feeling where condense.
My soul tormented by goodness at evils expense.
Flowing with every feeling including God's given sixth sense...

 By; P.D.

((( Merry X- Mass Everyone)))


Details | Conflict Poem |

Her Masterpiece Is Her Story

Her paintbrush is a razor,
Her canvas, her wrists,
"I deserve the pain."
She shrugs and insists.

One day the brush will push down,
And it will cut so deep,
That this girl will fall
into an eternal sleep.

She doesn't remember how she started
What brought her interest to this,
How do you discover,
that cutting is your form of bliss?

No one would have guessed that she does it.
No one would have considered this one.
This girl is forever fighting a battle,
that she thinks the demons have won.

Her artwork is all over her,
Her beauty is on her thighs,
and if you look in her old trash,
you'll find her letters of goodbye.

Her masterpiece is quite disturbing,
Her masterpiece is a little gory,
Her artwork is her escape.
Let me tell you her story.

She compares herself to every person,
She is compared to each girl.
She thinks she's hideous,
And there's this boy that is her world.

She was bullied and picked on,
She was teased from head to toe,
Hard to believe that her best friend,
was her one and only foe.

Then later she disliked every little thing,
Her body, face and even her mind,
Soon she saw she was a failure,
and it was just in due time...

That this girl couldn't take it anymore
She'd decided she was done living this,
So one day she went home
and decided to end it.

Everyday for multiple days,
This girl would try to drown,
Hard to believe this girl at school,
never ever wore a frown.

Sometimes she'd just fall asleep crying,
Praying that she'd be enough,
Because she didn't want to leave her family.
She knew about their sweet love.

This girl found hope in small things eventually,
She soon would see this beautiful light,
and find a REAL best friend,
that helped her put up a fight.

Her masterpiece soon was leaving,
Her artwork was almost faded,
and it gave her a sick feeling,
the feeling of being jaded.

She found a boy that actually loved her,
And showed her love exists,
And this boy too had a masterpiece,
placed close to his wrists.

He related to her and she related to him.
She kissed his artwork and said he's not alone,
When she cut herself it hurt him,
Her masterpiece now wasn't just her own.

Her masterpiece effected others,
Her artwork wasn't just for herself,
She now had people, 
who saw her cries for help.

And then her family found out,
So then they saw the art too,
to them they were just scars,
To her they were the truth.

She's trying to be okay now,
She thinks she might survive,
Even though they didn't think
to take away the knives.


Details | Conflict Poem |

The Day After

The Day After,

Day after day, I pray for our father to give this demon peace
Adam, I want you to know he does not bother me so, 
His rage is on his own, not mine, 
---tormented by a word, he plasters on his face
Words of sorrow, that haunted him for years
God Bless Him, and the thin skin he lives in
He has no ammo in that pistol he calls a pen 
The movements, and the words he spews are too predictable 
Come sit by my side Adam, let's enjoy another slice of apple pie
Together we can watch the mud splash from under his feet
Look at the way he enjoys eating spoiled grapes
From the hands of his mangled up paparazzi cameltoe hoarders

For who does he think he is, attacking essence, that don't suit him
Adam, I have no problem when this demon speaks in tongues
I laugh at the ones who follow and uproar, his roar, 
Indecent knowledge,
Why this demon cries and lies all night long? ---LET THEM ENJOY!
Anything that helps him attract ridicule flies from the same nasty barrio
I can say hurtful things, that will anger the demon, 
Give him, the real reason for vengeance
ADAM! I'd rather not, my words are poisonous enough
Too much for someone like him, who easily gets bent out of shape, 
When it comes to paper and pen, this backstabbing demon
I've shown you my sword, the rage I can display, however that's not lady like
Even I was disgusted by the thoughts that pour from my golden pen 
I killed, a world, and hung myself when spewing that 75 line verse
A poem, in which God, himself shut me up, and said "Eve What Have You Done!"
Walk away now, and never look back, that kind of slam is forbidden
Listen to the air, God is whispering, I need not to fight, a fight that's not worth it
Adam, this time let's trust the Lord' 
Look how this demon's eyes, widen when we bite the strange fruit together
Forget about the worm in the apple, preying on dirty minds needing attention
At the end, he will notice, God is my witness and I'm under his protection
I move forward, not backwards, and I know how to turn the other cheek
Adam it's time to look away, 
Let's make love like never before, let's continue to explore a world of love 
A world made especially for ADAM & EVE

By: Eve


Details | Conflict Poem |

Tattoo of a Broken Heart

It’s raining in the corner
Stripes upon the floor
Bloody knife in a barroom door
Drinking whiskey
From a hollowed out gourd
Full of wasps
That rage in my core
Old man Mason
Got a smile upon his face
He knows the fire
And now I got a taste
Can’t stand up
Can’t lie down
Spinning room 
Going round and round
Lipstick so red and thick
Devils eyes are on my hip
Right hand of the devil
Is a handgun son
I’m shooting dice
I’m shooting everyone
Woke up in a Philippine jail
I’ll sail for Hong Kong
Once I make my bail
They’ll never find me
The only evidence to tell 
Is a tattoo of a broken heart
And a rusty nail


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