#antipathy - Hello Poetry

The flowery mountain: Psyche, a woven garment? Acts and breeds, deeds and listening Wait on us, like a stone to lament: History... Antiquity and the skip of vice, into a vision Vertigo is a legend of caring, in a sun's epistolary Sigh with the blessed, going to heaven... The first of many The burst of a faerie The worst of a carry The curse of sharing Silence is wisdom with a dangerous puppet... Decency in a quiet avail, is to liberate a stare... Steel in love with its self, is a champion, not a harlot... The brow of suggestion is never heard, unless seasons scare... The holiday on the mountain: Is for any who would believe, an ******* smiles... Sincerity adding itself, is our only hope, the asking is plain The moon with one, is still a more cordial life than this hell...

0

Oct 10, 2025

Oct 10, 2025 at 5:20 PM UTC

david-hilburn

How, An Idiot Knows The Difference...

The flowery mountain: Psyche, a woven garment? Acts and breeds, deeds and listening Wait on us, like a stone to lament: History... Antiquity and the skip of vice, into a vision Vertigo is a legend of caring, in a sun's epistolary Sigh with the blessed, going to heaven... The first of many The burst of a faerie The worst of a carry The curse of sharing Silence is wisdom with a dangerous puppet... Decency in a quiet avail, is to liberate a stare... Steel in love with its self, is a champion, not a harlot... The brow of suggestion is never heard, unless seasons scare... The holiday on the mountain: Is for any who would believe, an ******* smiles... Sincerity adding itself, is our only hope, the asking is plain The moon with one, is still a more cordial life than this hell...

20

Antipathy of God’s magnum opera: \ An anomaly, \ It is preternatural, \ & it is entropy. \ As Children of The Most High God, Jah, \ The Cosmo-Plexus of Empyreal Love, \ We must rise above, we must transcend \ Hate, Malice, & attrition. \ The Spirit is beckoning you, \ Embrace amour & revere the one who is love: \ 8 “Who ever does not love has not come to know God, because \ God is love.” —1st John 4: 8 (NWTSE) \ (—Se’ lah) 10-04-2025

0

Oct 4, 2025

Oct 4, 2025 at 12:30 PM UTC

sandersmauricefoulkeiii

|Magnum Opera |

Antipathy of God’s magnum opera: \ An anomaly, \ It is preternatural, \ & it is entropy. \ As Children of The Most High God, Jah, \ The Cosmo-Plexus of Empyreal Love, \ We must rise above, we must transcend \ Hate, Malice, & attrition. \ The Spirit is beckoning you, \ Embrace amour & revere the one who is love: \ 8 “Who ever does not love has not come to know God, because \ God is love.” —1st John 4: 8 (NWTSE) \ (—Se’ lah) 10-04-2025

14

Brown temples Avid, too sore for sense? Background music, finding what will... A look of devotion, for a tooth called suspense? Black wishes Turmoil is a vaguer clique Of comment's, sigh's make God's fishes Just a rue to understand what is... Grey orbit's Of miasma, found in a suggestion's field Known by sight, a bird has wit's Another bird has seen the sun, and it's yield Green future's Vicinity to unity, the poor Is realm to ***** word's of impurity Set amid tree's, worth their wars White death's Would we save a child's shadow? Regret as hot, as marvel's lead Meant only with yesterday's yawn, are we that we are, mellow?

0

May 26, 2023

May 26, 2023 at 11:04 PM UTC

david-hilburn

Populace, Do We Know You Better Than You Think?

Brown temples Avid, too sore for sense? Background music, finding what will... A look of devotion, for a tooth called suspense? Black wishes Turmoil is a vaguer clique Of comment's, sigh's make God's fishes Just a rue to understand what is... Grey orbit's Of miasma, found in a suggestion's field Known by sight, a bird has wit's Another bird has seen the sun, and it's yield Green future's Vicinity to unity, the poor Is realm to ***** word's of impurity Set amid tree's, worth their wars White death's Would we save a child's shadow? Regret as hot, as marvel's lead Meant only with yesterday's yawn, are we that we are, mellow?

20

Am I no longer fretful of my youth? Do I have any antipathy of death?

0

Apr 11, 2021

Apr 11, 2021 at 8:03 AM UTC

Writer_in_Moonlight

Am I?...

Am I no longer fretful of my youth? Do I have any antipathy of death?

2

I could have only one night left and i would gladly spend it with you doing nothing but enjoying the mere presence of your being is all i would need to finally rest in peace

0

Jun 11, 2018

Jun 11, 2018 at 6:48 AM UTC

Constan

Tonight

I could have only one night left and i would gladly spend it with you doing nothing but enjoying the mere presence of your being is all i would need to finally rest in peace

6

I fear the unreasonable indeterminate, Anxiety that gushes over like a fountain. My body is trapped in lethargy, Naught an ounce of motivation to move. I begin to step and prove, That my anxiety has turned me petty. My thoughts trap me in my pain, I begin to question my fate: Why do I fear the unknown? Why can't I escape? Why haven't I grown? Why is there a hole; a gape? I enter into another phase called apathy. It turns into blatant antipathy. It exhausts my soul until I become empty. I get filled again due to hypocrisy and piety. I wake up; wanting to go to bed. I can't sleep; my anxieties cover my head. I get frustrated and I ache. I give into despair and break. I get fixed; inescapable, I said. ~ Repeat.

0

Apr 24, 2018

Apr 24, 2018 at 12:43 PM UTC

PoemsByCed

"Loop"

I fear the unreasonable indeterminate, Anxiety that gushes over like a fountain. My body is trapped in lethargy, Naught an ounce of motivation to move. I begin to step and prove, That my anxiety has turned me petty. My thoughts trap me in my pain, I begin to question my fate: Why do I fear the unknown? Why can't I escape? Why haven't I grown? Why is there a hole; a gape? I enter into another phase called apathy. It turns into blatant antipathy. It exhausts my soul until I become empty. I get filled again due to hypocrisy and piety. I wake up; wanting to go to bed. I can't sleep; my anxieties cover my head. I get frustrated and I ache. I give into despair and break. I get fixed; inescapable, I said. ~ Repeat.

23

A reproof of scarlet riviera darken its seance that acclaim unforetold entrance of lactose hence virtual lecture, edifice with preponderance in guidance if hesitation ready hinders them entertained by inordinate *** and whether garish is gruesome for glutenesque and intricately hard to maintain as their distraction is subliminal that pain is debilitating and overwhelming in modern lifestyle.

0

Apr 16, 2017

Apr 16, 2017 at 7:41 AM UTC

poetman

A Proctoscope

A reproof of scarlet riviera darken its seance that acclaim unforetold entrance of lactose hence virtual lecture, edifice with preponderance in guidance if hesitation ready hinders them entertained by inordinate *** and whether garish is gruesome for glutenesque and intricately hard to maintain as their distraction is subliminal that pain is debilitating and overwhelming in modern lifestyle.

8

Once upon a time, a woman was picking up firewood. She came upon a poisonous snake frozen in the snow. She took the snake home and nursed it back to health. One day the snake bit her on the cheek. As she lay dying, she asked the snake, "Why have you done this to me?" And the snake answered, "Look, ***** you knew I was a snake."

0

May 1, 2016

May 1, 2016 at 2:40 PM UTC

jim-northcutt

The Woman and the Viper (A fable by Aesop, via "Natural Born Killers")

Once upon a time, a woman was picking up firewood. She came upon a poisonous snake frozen in the snow. She took the snake home and nursed it back to health. One day the snake bit her on the cheek. As she lay dying, she asked the snake, "Why have you done this to me?" And the snake answered, "Look, ***** you knew I was a snake."

1

Sometimes... I cannot hear your thoughts Your mind to me Is like smooth jagged glass Beneath a pool of liquid winter A lake of crystallized silence. It hurts. Sometimes... I cannot feel your emotions Your face is like an empty mask A hollow shell Your eyes are depthless glass Living ice. I can feel your heartbeat I can hear you breathe Tears flow down my cheeks, Freezing in your frigid warmth. They sound like antipathy. Sometimes... We kiss Mental screams against silence Passion against nothingness Motion against stillness You don't lie You don't speak You do nothing at all. There're no roses amongst the thorns. Sometimes... I hear you speak Flowers blooming in winter Blood burning through snow Your voice is a sirenic thing Filling me Maddening me Tearing my heart apart. A captivating inferno. A glacial wind. A numbing kiss. Your voice is poison. I crave its touch. Sometimes... I wonder if you're a corpse I wonder if you're hollow I wonder if you forget to feel. Your smile Is an existential thing. Your laugh Is a detached melody. Your stare Is an empty dream. Arctic indifference. Words fading into the wind. Sometimes... I can only see you An aloof statue A pitiless observer. Tears flow down my cheeks, Freezing in your frigid warmth. I no longer understand you Perhaps, I never did. Flowers blooming in winter Blood burning through snow My devotion To a narcissistic fascination Your voice is a sirenic thing There're no roses amongst the thorns. It hurts. I wish to **** you. You don't lie You don't speak You do nothing at all. Your face remains an empty mask Mental screams against silence Arctic indifference Decayed insanity Inert image upon darkened glass. What do I do with all these feelings? You will not die. It hurts.

0

Mar 19, 2015

Mar 19, 2015 at 3:16 PM UTC

dia95

UnReflected

Sometimes... I cannot hear your thoughts Your mind to me Is like smooth jagged glass Beneath a pool of liquid winter A lake of crystallized silence. It hurts. Sometimes... I cannot feel your emotions Your face is like an empty mask A hollow shell Your eyes are depthless glass Living ice. I can feel your heartbeat I can hear you breathe Tears flow down my cheeks, Freezing in your frigid warmth. They sound like antipathy. Sometimes... We kiss Mental screams against silence Passion against nothingness Motion against stillness You don't lie You don't speak You do nothing at all. There're no roses amongst the thorns. Sometimes... I hear you speak Flowers blooming in winter Blood burning through snow Your voice is a sirenic thing Filling me Maddening me Tearing my heart apart. A captivating inferno. A glacial wind. A numbing kiss. Your voice is poison. I crave its touch. Sometimes... I wonder if you're a corpse I wonder if you're hollow I wonder if you forget to feel. Your smile Is an existential thing. Your laugh Is a detached melody. Your stare Is an empty dream. Arctic indifference. Words fading into the wind. Sometimes... I can only see you An aloof statue A pitiless observer. Tears flow down my cheeks, Freezing in your frigid warmth. I no longer understand you Perhaps, I never did. Flowers blooming in winter Blood burning through snow My devotion To a narcissistic fascination Your voice is a sirenic thing There're no roses amongst the thorns. It hurts. I wish to **** you. You don't lie You don't speak You do nothing at all. Your face remains an empty mask Mental screams against silence Arctic indifference Decayed insanity Inert image upon darkened glass. What do I do with all these feelings? You will not die. It hurts.

80