#disagreements - Hello Poetry

The morning sun reflects Across the leaves of the red-tipped photinia, Flowing forth to accent the brilliant White of the oak leaf hydrangea. Peacefulness rests solidly on the scene. There is time for talk and a chance to listen. Life is calm, except for the roughness at the edges. Disagreements suddenly become prominent. How does one disagree? When do topics become as rough as sandpaper? How hard does one scrape the soft edges of ideas? If rubbed too deeply, do emotions sour, curdling like overnight cream left unrefrigerated? Can we play with these ideas like juggling bottles in the air? If they are dropped, are they erroneous, becoming shards swept to the garbage? Righteousness and reason override relationships. We must think alike if we are to be maintained. Midday has arrived; sunshine dominates. Hydrangeas and the red-tipped leaves now glow the shade of seafoam, Shining as clearly as a meadow. Have our ideas become more lucid, more detailed, more correct? Were we willing to discard what was deemed baggage, too wrong to carry beyond today? What too has become of us together? Did our arguments massage so intently our intellects that the bruising might not heal?

0

Jun 3, 2025

Jun 3, 2025 at 10:05 PM UTC

william-a-poppen

Discussion

The morning sun reflects Across the leaves of the red-tipped photinia, Flowing forth to accent the brilliant White of the oak leaf hydrangea. Peacefulness rests solidly on the scene. There is time for talk and a chance to listen. Life is calm, except for the roughness at the edges. Disagreements suddenly become prominent. How does one disagree? When do topics become as rough as sandpaper? How hard does one scrape the soft edges of ideas? If rubbed too deeply, do emotions sour, curdling like overnight cream left unrefrigerated? Can we play with these ideas like juggling bottles in the air? If they are dropped, are they erroneous, becoming shards swept to the garbage? Righteousness and reason override relationships. We must think alike if we are to be maintained. Midday has arrived; sunshine dominates. Hydrangeas and the red-tipped leaves now glow the shade of seafoam, Shining as clearly as a meadow. Have our ideas become more lucid, more detailed, more correct? Were we willing to discard what was deemed baggage, too wrong to carry beyond today? What too has become of us together? Did our arguments massage so intently our intellects that the bruising might not heal?

20

Where I end And she begins Is open for debate There are places We overlap Blend together Little between us Is on the surface Some are long entrenched Others postpartum And they will hold on To the bitter end Ebbing and flowing Careening and crashing So many create Their own storm Those wise enough Allow them to drowned

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Apr 20, 2020

Apr 20, 2020 at 12:47 PM UTC

Carlo-C-Gomez

Not Every Ocean Can Swim

Where I end And she begins Is open for debate There are places We overlap Blend together Little between us Is on the surface Some are long entrenched Others postpartum And they will hold on To the bitter end Ebbing and flowing Careening and crashing So many create Their own storm Those wise enough Allow them to drowned

18

tell me all your secrets and i’ll tell you you started a sequence of sleepless nights for me i don’t need Jesus i just need you in your completeness in this world that He bequeathed us that old book is red with rust it can’t define our goodness or limit what’s between us, our disagreements, the inconvenience of love in the modern age so love me and they’ll leave us and then we can be thus exactly as we are.

0

Feb 15, 2019

Feb 15, 2019 at 1:24 PM UTC

z54

23

tell me all your secrets and i’ll tell you you started a sequence of sleepless nights for me i don’t need Jesus i just need you in your completeness in this world that He bequeathed us that old book is red with rust it can’t define our goodness or limit what’s between us, our disagreements, the inconvenience of love in the modern age so love me and they’ll leave us and then we can be thus exactly as we are.

8

There is yours and there is mine there is no us like in storybooks I am young and you are restless I am reckless and you are wise To the outside we might be combined but there is yours and there is mine Our stalemate love is a sour tragedy bitter on our lips and tongues Because there is yours and there is mine and what we have we can't combine You are the restless soul that has been aged and I am the youth that is your pastime Stalemate love for stalemate lives - How can something so fair be so -

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Apr 3, 2015

Apr 3, 2015 at 12:41 PM UTC

lou-mcnamara

Yours and mine

There is yours and there is mine there is no us like in storybooks I am young and you are restless I am reckless and you are wise To the outside we might be combined but there is yours and there is mine Our stalemate love is a sour tragedy bitter on our lips and tongues Because there is yours and there is mine and what we have we can't combine You are the restless soul that has been aged and I am the youth that is your pastime Stalemate love for stalemate lives - How can something so fair be so -

28

I saw you there the other day... With that snide look on your face. I wanted to say something but your greeting was all I could care to stomach... I don't remember things ever being so bitter between us I keep thinking that its me... But I don't think I could of sliced it so nicely...

0

Dec 30, 2014

Dec 30, 2014 at 1:47 AM UTC

andrew-kerklaan

Conflict

I saw you there the other day... With that snide look on your face. I wanted to say something but your greeting was all I could care to stomach... I don't remember things ever being so bitter between us I keep thinking that its me... But I don't think I could of sliced it so nicely...

6