History has shown
They will **** their own
Before living with others in peace
Have no doubt
That hatred is as nourishment
Sustenance
Subsistence
A necessity for existence
They can not do without

Burning hot as fire within the wretched souls
Of those
Whose evil knows
No bounds
Would **** you
As soon as kick you
Because your skin is Olive or Brown
Or you pray to a Deity
That your life revolves around
The depravity
The corruption
Never cease to be astounded
By

Those that NEED someone to hate

Who would these mongers hate
If successful in their efforts
To eradicate
Everyone who was, from themselves, different?

If they knifed all the *******,
Burned all the *******,
Chopped up all the chinks
Would this, their hate, augment?

If they tortured the towel heads
Killed the catholics
Hanged the homos
Would this, finally, curb discontent?

Or

Would the haters implode
And begin to feed upon themselves

Would short people
Shoot tall people?

Would merely looking at skinny
Make fatty incensed?

Would brown-eyed people
**** blue-eyed people?

Would red hair and freckles
Be a stoning offense?

Would black-haired people
Break blond-haired people?

This is a hate poem…

And hate seldom makes sense…

But sensical or no…
Seems the real status quo
Matters love that we show
There will always be those
That just plain NEED

Someone to hate

Bottled up like salad dressing.
Top on, sticky side down.
Put a little pressure on the pressing.
Call it depressing when you take the finger from the noun.
Wrap it around
in a figure eight turn.
Discern or nerves will churn.
Pain is the name of the burn
sensation.
Loosen it at the day's cessation
and keep it on for the duration.
The continuation of blood circulation
is key to the prevention of amputation.
Whether physically or metaphorically,
keeping an injury wrapped in a challis
is the best thing to keep a healthy tally.

I want to be like your poetry.
Filled with your feelings,
Deepest emotions,
Running under your skin,
I want to be like the love you use to write about.
That one girl that had you completely,
Heart and soul,
Smiles and laughter,
I want to be like her.
Always in your head,
Your dreams,
Unwanted ecstasies woven deep,
Written on pages and pages,
I want to be indescribable.
Someone so profound,
No words can explain,
Yet somehow you do,
Find the right words to describe her,
Your love,
For her eyes, her smile, her love for you,
I want to be lasting,
Like your poetry,
Something worth thought,
worth sleepless nights.

stay up with
me until
tonight is tomorrow
moon fading into a
sliver of
ice

opals on your
cheeks and cold
stars warm
from my hands

lie out under
the sky
keeping our
dreams safe in
whispers

the grass is
ours
and our outlines
can last forever if

we let them.