"abhorrence" poems
Distant learning courses in the heart
Irrelevant actions have left us all apart
Acquisitions decaying those stray minded people
It's no longer a commonplace to feel peaceful
Simultaneous occurrences have our mind in disarray
Through our pasts they begin to replay
All these calamitous activities brought through maleficent eyes
Disintegrate what's left sending us in a fools paradise
We reap to elope from these rigorous bearings we call home
Only to find ourselves cast away into the unknown
We strive to survive in a world full of abhorrence
Being seen transparent just as worthless corpses
Those few who prevail are not left without detriment
They are forever severed a mental delinquent
**Nevertheless our story lives on
In this godforsaken marathon**
-Joseph B Schneider
Nov 2, 2014
Nov 2, 2014 at 12:38 PM UTC
We once burned witches...
No.
We burned people who were accused
of being witches or practicing witchcraft...
never proven but still burned....
burned alive...
wether or not they were witches
will remain unknown
and why should it
have mattered if they were,
what excuse was that to have
behaved so maliciously hateful and cruel
I will tell you this though
if I had been a witch
or knew any kind of witchcraft
the first thing i would have done
is work out a fire proof charm
perfected an unburnable spell
an I can walk through the fire
and feel a hell of a lot better
after doing so spell
a my blood and bones
burn hotter than the sun spell
a you better get that
little matchstick outta my face spell
before I show you how to burn
THE REAL MONSTERS here spell
the monsters with the lust
to watch flesh turn
to cinder and ash monsters
the monsters who feared
the unordinary who showed
any kind of extraordinary monsters
the monsters of the masses
with crosses that burned
like torches monsters
the monsters who screamed ******
in the name of....
monsters
the monsters who could not see
their own reflection
for the hideous creatures
they were monsters
the same monsters that still live today
on this side of the looking glasses
under our thin skinned social structure
still burning witches
subtly now
with words of disdain
full of pernicious intentions
towards the lost and the lonely
with the cold staring eyes of indifference
and hearts without an once of compassion
towards the homeless and hungry
with the revulsion and abhorrence
towards those who love
the ones they love
the witches being any unordinary
that show any kind of extraordinary
still being feared for their difference
still being hated
reduced to nothing but
pill size suicides
red ribboned wrists
rope neck ties
for feeling too much
pushing too far
flying too high
dancing in cinder to ash
being burned
burned for being alive
Sep 1, 2018
Sep 1, 2018 at 3:32 AM UTC
When darkness long has veil'd my mind,
And smiling day once more appears,
Then, my Redeemer, then I find
The folly of my doubts and fears.
Straight I upbraid my wandering heart,
And blush that I should ever be
Thus prone to act so base a part,
Or harbour one hard thought of Thee!
Oh! let me then at length be taught
What I am still so slow to learn,
That God is love, and changes not,
Nor knows the shadow of a turn.
Sweet truth, and easy to repeat!
But when my faith is sharply tried,
I find myself a learner yet,
Unskilful, weak, and apt to slide.
But, O my Lord, one look from Thee
Subdues the disobedient will,
Drives doubt and discontent away,
And Thy rebellious worm is still.
Thou art as ready to forgive
As I am ready to repine;
Thou, therefore, all the praise receive;
Be shame and self-abhorrence mine.
4.4k
Down by two
the bruised-blue flesh
of the bronze butterfly's
escape through sacrifice,
flays the emotions..
Unwholesome the silence
that goes before her,
a sound like the heart
bound to beat like butterfly wings...
Gently her absence quick
upon me, inhales the night
and swiftly, the dark
sees only ease to relinquish
her candles sheathed in glass
epitaphs that collapse like veins
to fill the fluent air with the spare
embrace of the blue elements...
Down by two in the bottom of the ninth,
two out, two on, two strikes,
the soul's too tragic abhorrence of details
fails to deliver the impossible syntax
of apocalypse, on the lips
of a courteous Christ, crucified
by light, the night fades
far into the furthest exile...
Under a tropic of cancer,
her un-obscured brilliance
pierces the vault of heaven's vast
gathering of angels,
and their illegible scripture...
Shatters the soul in one primal
instant grand slam dream, quicksilver
through her midnight moment's landscape,
every cherished feature in flight, the light
of the bronze butterfly's escape
through sacrifice, to the silver flame
of moonlight's crucial adieu....
Feb 5, 2013
Feb 5, 2013 at 1:08 PM UTC
Fallen from grace,
No longer do I sit high upon the pedestal
That you had once put me
No longer am I seen as idol or mentor
Nor wanted as provider or protector
But now looked upon as an outcast
And banished from your heart
Betrayed by the one who now blinds you
With a veil of lies and deceit
That weighs on your young fragile heart
With heavy words of animosity and abhorrence
You have been trapped in a malevolent web
Of hatred and retribution
Used as an unwitting pawn
In a game of emotional chess
Your words of respect and adoration
Have been replaced by venomous accusations
Of brutality and oppression
Taught to you by the one
Who now holds the chains that bind your heart
But I will not be vanquished or deterred
By these attempts to falsify or dilute my love for you
I will be strong in my resolve and true to myself
I will not let these misguided asseverations
Destroy my confidence in knowing
That my spirit is pure and that one day
You will be able to break free from your restraints
And uncover your eyes
So you can distinguish the truth from the lies
Until that day comes I shall be waiting
Ready to stand next to you
As opposed to being on that pedestal
And walk down a new road with you
As your friend and equal
Feb 7, 2018
Feb 7, 2018 at 9:52 AM UTC
I
I greeted you, my inevitable day
In this shaky firmness of my hands;
Assuring me of my weakness; the languidity of my serene constitution.
The sky smeared with fright,undeed, and look, hark to how the sun closed the night!
This was but unpalatable dew, misty in its impatient greyness
Avidity for genuine sorrow and late confessions
The calm heart then wronged, and soon the war touched the light!
II
Beware of love, o silly hearts!
Loving thoughts, are indeed averse to relenting;
albeit they are always leading to smirks and destitution.
Release thy grains from yon grievous chain!
Spark thy wings, heave and bend!
Wear thy glee, ere any of the gruesome tears remain!
Shield thy mask with greater abhorrence!
III
O notions, fruit my doom and feed my sight!
From womanly misery I yet ought to emerge
and all its surly sleeves I ought to blight!
IV
O peace, fetch for me my untaught breath in vain
Keep me steady, ditch me not in the rain!
Tend me more, yet not my cheerful friend-
in pleasures whom thrives, in virtues was whom foolish!
Praising plaited hairs, swept amidst folded skirts.
Gruesome lies they carry, the finest they conspire to marry;
what a horrid, unalterable, evil concoction!
Yet pureness is the only that deserves awe;
virgins are a symbol of unrequited love, but tenderest affection!
However lonesome, hither and thither I shall bear this pain
Until my stern heart melted to love again.
Dec 19, 2012
Dec 19, 2012 at 7:38 AM UTC
Tell me, Gentlemen:
while you soared higher than your fears and dreams could ever reach, into the blue crystal infinity,
did you hear the voices of angels echoing off the wings of geese migrating south for the winter?
how did it feel,
fighting for a nation that measured your worth in disheveled water fountains, mop buckets, dust rags, and potato peelings,
defending stars and stripes stained with the same molten white abhorrence smeared on ******** bombers?
did it hit you like a G force?
when you climbed into that cockpit, audaciously red, the blood rushing to your head, was it bitter hand fulls of cherries sweet?
when you returned home through back doors and alleyways to face an Uncle Sam with burning crosses in his eyes,
when you stood curbside at your own homecoming parade feeling confetti and streamers tickle the bridges of your noses,
tell me how it felt, Gentlemen.
will my brothers and sisters who fight only for tennis shoe wealth, understand the worth of those medals on your scarlet blazers?
if I listen hard enough to those jets breaking the sound barrier will I hear your story?
tell me, Gentlemen,
what was it like to fly?
infinite respects,
Curlie Fries Mcgee
Dec 15, 2012
Dec 15, 2012 at 8:06 AM UTC
My feelings of hate border on revulsion
Repulsion bordering on abhorrence,
Course through my veins
My blood is thick with ill will
Sociopathic thoughts fire my personal hatred
Hate is more powerful than love
Love hurts hate kills.
Apr 17, 2014
Apr 17, 2014 at 11:19 AM UTC
There was an old person of Florence,
Who held mutton chops in abhorrence;
He purchased a Bustard,
And fried him in Mustard,
Which choked that old person of Florence.
2.5k
It was never my intention to place you in harms way.
Enlisting your heart to trouble after we kissed on that precious day.
As time elapsed, my heart took a moment to understand.
You were portraying your earnest emotions subtly then crass.
The turmoil you must’ve felt during the time you kept to yourself…
Causing you to experience agonizing despair while delving into mournful swells…
Find it in your heart to forgive these third degree burns.
For it was never my intention to crucify your kind soul.
My love yearns to romanticize unhurriedly,
Seducing passionately while intimately feeding the soul so fluidly.
Is it too much to ask for an amorous exploration?
For what is love without a genuine vibration?
If *** is all you seek,
Be explicitly direct; don’t play games that will cause deceit.
Otherwise, in the end, ambivalent emotions will prevail.
Crafting a false sense of endearment that will soon be too much for you to bear.
I once journeyed to a crucible of love and hate.
Traveling far beyond the unfathomable depths of heartache.
Hopelessly exiled to endure the slowest of brutalizing pains;
A light was discovered, allowing the abhorrence to dissipate.
By: Michael M. De La Fuente
Nov 25, 2014
Nov 25, 2014 at 12:22 AM UTC
for autumn's leaves have fallen much too soon
and i, without my eyes to see the clear
brilliance of the sun, the stars, and moon
can still make out what the heavens brought near
the warmth of heaven's gift i feel fornenst
i hear the sound true emotion does bring
my heart, it breaks through its final defense
and on the ice first does this new love sing
what spell's been wrought to bring me to my knees?
what magic has your presence on me cast
to turn me from my abhorrence of he
to lover's gaze which alienates the past
And sooner would I cast myself to flame
Then dare confess when you won't feel the same.
Jan 30, 2017
Jan 30, 2017 at 1:19 PM UTC
The soft blue-green of the moon’s light floods into my bedroom.
The day: over
Time ebbs away, nonexistent
The memories on the shelf fall off
The shattered glass grabs onto the moonlight and hugs it
The light dissipates
It leaves an empty shell, the remainder of light curling and taking off
to cover a faraway land with a soft reassurance of mist
The drowsiness underneath my eyes dwindles away
This is the noise that keeps me awake.
Exhilaration is pumped into my hollow bones
Painful buzzing cuts into my brain at random. The light of the moon fluctuates
The bitter food still alive on my tongue overwhelms my senses
The sharpness of the light penetrates my eye with force. I can’t see anything
The light bends, white and bright, the stars burrow into my iris
My bones are jelly, my brain is a cocoon of abhorrence, my heart is a balloon
It pops.
The beast within me ***** away at the jelly, fed.
The creature in my brain breaks out and flies away to infest another innocent.
The noise slips away. I’m a paper girl limp on the bed.
Unable to move or feel or think or to have a heartbeat.
Quiet blossoms inside. I exist as a metaphor. I ***** my eyelids shut.
i hope they won’t fall off
The stars wink away. An infinite, dark sky looms overhead.
The darkness is a blanket, firm and reliable, warm. I drape it over myself and vanish.
Entropy lives within me. I nurture it, because it is my friend.
It flies away into its nest of clouds. It is distant. It will not come again for awhile.
Shadows shift onto the floor and murmur.
Dreams await.
© 2018
Xandra Lynch
Dec 28, 2018
Dec 28, 2018 at 8:46 AM UTC
Besotted bones blanketed by a burning semblance of abandonment;
Barren bodies, buried in bankruptcy. Blood birthing blurry abhorrence,
Blatantly boring bowels with trembling butterflies; brittle, gun-shy bullets.
Beastly bugs scrambling between blackness, buzzing behind blind eyeballs.
Bend my vertebrae, bowed like a blossoming babe. Bound embryo
Breathing- bawling, cries reverberating invisibly in the womb.
Abort my breath in its bland, bottomless tomb.
-SLuR
Aug 20, 2017
Aug 20, 2017 at 7:14 PM UTC
Repeating nightmares
Just to be sure—
Certain I’m this insecure
Depleting patience
Of conscious dead
From whom nature’s love has bled
The leaders of men
Have come to pray
But no gift can greed allay
Yes, no gift at all
From iron gods
Can assuage a soulless fraud
I call thee, War Horse
The time is nigh
Mars is mirrored in our eyes
And our empty hearts
Will beat anew
With blood vengeance shall accrue
Our humanity—
All our prowess
I bend unto your malice
Ego, madness, hubris, anger
Darkness, violence, loathing, doom
Fury, abhorrence, wrath, danger
Desire, frenzy, hatred, black bloom
Mar 20, 2013
Mar 20, 2013 at 11:41 PM UTC
Got lost and stopped by the grotto
struck deals with villains,
and though I'm in my feelings
kneeling and ****** off
I payed to be ripped off
cadences dip, lost the lotto
Watery graves appealing strange
the solution is lame
the parade's an insane path to follow
Radical urchin burden
grifting the current
mechanisms infected
luring fevers to wallow in, ad absurdum
fathom futility in survival
famine imbibes a stifled echo of revival
in my head
I'm just playing dead for my recital
better informed to the abhorrence I'm entitled
feathered in form alluring sword alarm from Michael
clever to wars imparted forcible and vital, to the era
but staring in awe before the cycle
Bearing a maw beneath the throes along the final.
Bury me after my heart
and guard informal notions of the lauded
if calluses lift the filthy and applaud it
whittle the simply to the too intense or lawless
for a history glistening through a rose of sickly fondness
I won't ask if you were listening to all this
but I must admit
I don't think I can trust you
to be honest...
Dec 17, 2018
Dec 17, 2018 at 1:25 AM UTC
I'll write a letter
To those who matter
Because, though I won't be there to see
I want to imagine the faces of those
Who I'm not writing to.
I'll write a note to him because he still intrigues me
It'll be a cowardly note that says everything I couldn't
And I'll cross my fingers when I open my veins,
I'll pray he didn't care for me
I'll pray it doesn't hurt him
Because he doesn't deserve it.
I'll write a note to her because she's his
And he's hers and that still hurts me somedays
And because I love her like I love him:
In a million, million ways.
And I'll cross my fingers when I open my veins
I'll pray she's enough to get him to stay
I'll pray she doesn't care so she'll be okay.
I'll write a note to her because she birthed me
And I'll explain the importance of contraception
And I'll tell her I don't blame her and give absolution
And then take it back in the next sentence.
And I'll cross my fingers when I open my veins
I'll pray she hurts until she can barely breath
In the same breath, I'll pray she forgets me
And uses the rest of her life to be as free as she wanted to be.
I'll write a note to him because he's my sister
And I'll explain the way I hate him and do hate him
And I'll explain the way I never stopped feeling the rage
Of every single wrong he did me over the years
And then I'll forgive him because he doesn't need me to
And I'll cross my fingers when I open my veins
That he'll understand the simplicity and importance of tact
I'll pray that he gets everything he wants in life
I'll pray he understands why I couldn't wish that
While there was still air in my lungs.
I'll write a note to him because I hate him and I love him
And it'll explain the way child abuse lingers for years
And it'll say how much I wanted to see his grave before my own
And it'll say how I never wanted to see anyone live forever besides him
And it'll explain how he hurt me by withholding unconditional love
It will explain how little I cared after the first decade crept by
And I'll cross my fingers when I open my veins
And I'll turn over to pray
I'll pray he gets what he's due
I'll pray he finally dies
I'll pray he gets some happiness
And I'll do it all in one word: Why?
Those are the notes I'd write.
No one else I'd explain to.
Those are the people who've impacted my life.
If I keep death bare and simple.
I'm not crying this time.
I'm not just on the brink, about to go
I'll think, just as I always do
But there's no indecision anymore.
This is not a place I want to be
Not a life I want to live
But I still have a single ambition
I've still got one last wish.
So I'll do it.
I can be my own shooting star.
I'll get that last dream done
And open a vein? Or step in front of a car?
When I'm done with that I'll write a will
Containing three items:
Burn all my stories and poetry, delete my existence
Cremate my body, funerals are too expensive.
Be honest in my death, express your abhorrence.
Oct 2, 2014
Oct 2, 2014 at 5:36 PM UTC
Be oh so careful
My child
Lest you fall into
This same trench filled to the top
With depression
With self-hate
With abhorrence for the world
It never ends
Oh it never ends
It never ends
You think you can crawl out
You have already filled your head
With far too great an illusion
Of hope
There's no climbing out
The top has a glass cover
We're in Hell's prison
And God knows we'll never escape
It's walls
When you first fall through
Deep down into these depths
You don't know where to go
Everything is wrong
You can't say no
You can't just sing a sad song
But with time you figure out which trench
Is just right
But no one ever really picks right
We always pick what cuts the deepest
Words are powerful
And being able
To wield words is no different
Than a sword or a gun or any other weapon
Words will always be used as weapons
Because words is the name
Of one of the oldest places
In this sordid depression in this planet
The sound of
Words
Fades away
So soon
But the remnants
Cut like daggers
Straight down to the heart
From the mouth of those
Who let hate spill from their lips
Like venom from a viper's fangs
A venom so thick
And so abundant
Makes a pool we cannot swim out of
Trapping us like quicksand
Assimilating us into itself
So far in that we cannot remember ourselves
But only the intoxicated remnants of which remain
Our body's and our mind's
No longer our own
But belonging to the void
That this hopeless pointless life has become
Inside the void you only fall
Forever wondering when you'll meet the bottom
With quite the impression
You'll leave in the ground
Your body won't be altogether
But then again you mind wasn't in one piece either
Broken down along with your spirit
From all the pain you long endured
With no body to tether you to the ground
You go to see you can fly
You can
So you aim for the sky
But the glass atop the trench
Still holds you in your place
Always reminding you that
You did not die completely
Because at your time of demise
Part of you was already dead
Jun 16, 2014
Jun 16, 2014 at 11:48 AM UTC
How can you feel holy
By enjoying the pain of others?
Where is your righteousness
When you deny starving mothers
And brothers and fathers
And sisters and all others
Who need your help the most?
Does it add fat to your roast?
Is compassion some kind of crime?
Does it rob you of a dime
When you have so many millions
And not enough time to spend them?
Your logic is totally illogical!
It’s just short of scatological,
And adds up to the villainy
Of a well-armed sworn enemy.
This abhorrence of equality
Is your standard normality.
It often seems that being smug
Works on you like a kind of drug
That makes you see your neighbor
As nothing more than slave labor.
You who won’t throw dogs a bone
Did you get where you are alone?
How can you feel holy
By enjoying the pain of others?
Where is your righteousness
When you deny starving mothers
And brothers and fathers
And sisters and all others
Who need your help the most?
Does it add fat to your roast?
Is compassion some kind of crime?
Does it rob you of a dime
When you have so many millions
And not enough time to spend them?
You are taking a word such as liberal
And making a synonym for criminal.
You seem to want freedom to choose
As opportunity for religious abuse.
How are these oppressions you do
Good for anyone, not even for you?
For sure it might gain you some gold
That won’t love you when you grow old.
Unless you intend on buying affection
You won’t get much from an election.
The people who will applaud are shallow
If they let the world’s fields lie fallow.
Nov 12, 2015
Nov 12, 2015 at 4:16 PM UTC
In the wake of giants we sing
We see no boundaries
We see no walls of abhorrence
Only prevalence
If we are not chasing a dream
We are helping someone else catch theirs
We think our dreams are too far fetched
We think because we are us we can't
What separates us from prosperity
Nothing but one fact
While we say "no I can't"
Those who prosper say "yes I can"
It's more simple than we imagine
- Joseph B Schneider
Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 3:50 AM UTC
Through sleepless night my demon plays
A discreet prelude soundless and damp
Only to show the song it never able to sing
For its voice was tombstone as heavy as life
They said, find a demon who walks with yours
And since we can neither walk nor sing a song
We shall exchange letters in various forms
I will write my blood into words and yours into notes
And in the letters you sent to me at night
Are countable melodies that turn into bats
Which morph my nocturnal agony into dreamless ballad
With uncertainty of a sincerity I can never pay back
We are in different worlds but our demons are in the same
It was your countless letters of wordless phrases
Which keep us sane in a dying perfumed universe
Of self-abhorrence and longing never attained
And in my contemplation towards my ancient lover still
I came to reek that immortality and eternity
Are just unrequited sorrow for stories and blatant history
Of unfathomed longing never has been fulfilled
In a sorority painted by degraded hopes
Nothing mattered anymore as long as we walk
Upon the different dreams and on the same pavements
Caged by cracking skin and melted bones
And when we meet again in the letters
Or in outnumbered dreams
I hope it would be a blessed hell
Instead of broken old tales
Feb 25, 2015
Feb 25, 2015 at 5:44 AM UTC
When the conditions go wrong
when there are no jingles of a song
when the world loses its melody
when there is nothing but the tragedy
Together we shall stand
When the flowers lose their fragrance
when the peacock forgets the merry dance
when the sunlight is clogged by the cloud
when the shrieks of pain and terror are loud
Together we shall stand
Together we shall stand
and find the desired path
which leads us to the serene land
leaving behind the abhorrence and the wrath
Together we shall stand
till you trust me
and I trust you.
we’ll create a world of new
Just put your hand on my hand
together we shall stand
Together we shall stand
Till the eternal days ahead………
Dec 2, 2014
Dec 2, 2014 at 3:43 AM UTC
*The strain of survival in its most righteous form
Fighting arrogance through a repetitive storm
Day in and day out I pled guilty to incompetence
Bowing to the man who wears a crown of dominance
Seen through his lens of ineffectual views
Is the man of abhorrence yet to pay his dues
The roars of demise are seen as sweet
To the man who is begging for rigorous defeat
The man screams and he shouts for an endless battle
While I stand from afar seeing him beat from his cattle
The man seeks for loyalty in all the wrong places
True colors can't be veiled behind multiple faces*
***Weakened with regret of abusing all his peers
He is forever lost in his home made of tears
-Joseph B Schneider***
Jun 13, 2015
Jun 13, 2015 at 2:54 AM UTC
I blame you.
I blame you for my tears and the nights I couldn’t sleep and keeping my heart I loaned to you.
I had hoped for yours back, but no.
I blame you for the dark clouds above me when the sun was trying to peek out from behind.
But I know I can’t blame you for the fact that I wore my heart on my sleeve.
Don’t deny that you didn’t see it.
Everyone did. Everyone called me out on it.
Everyone knew I loved you.
But it’s not as easy as you might think, loving you.
I can’t keep up with all your games.
And, I’m starting to have this feeling of abhorrence towards myself.
How can you hold a grudge against yourself?
Can’t you help what you do?
Yes. Most of the time.
But I can’t help what you do.
And what you do makes me love you.
But when I tried to tell you, I felt mocked.
Because the way you acted towards me was more than friendly.
I was almost sure of it.
Almost.
I felt stupid for falling for your idiotic game.
I felt like all I was, was a prize you didn’t even care about winning.
And I loathed myself for falling for you.
But I’m not perfect, and I still love you,
No matter how much I deny it.
I’m sorry I’m not what you were looking for.
I’m sorry I wasn’t like the perfect girl you are enamored with.
I’m sorry I laugh too hard at all your jokes.
I’m sorry I love your curly hair and your unattractive glasses.
I’m sorry I’ve loved you for the best part of my life.
And I’m sorry I still do.
And even though I know I shouldn’t,
I blame you.
Jan 8, 2013
Jan 8, 2013 at 12:06 AM UTC
Where marinated in our murky past
have we found justification for the travesties we do,
build prisons where our prejudice lasts,
and allow its prisoners to fester as they stew
I have felt this heat.
The flame which boils in the toils of others,
whose oils lick embers into wildfire.
And we fall back into the Dark Ages.
where minds who place burden on those with different skin
slink flicking flint to fire, raising from the earth
the walls we have spent decades taking apart one brick at a time.
one brick at a time,
comment by comment,
each passing moment
condone it.
ignore it.
passivity pays the builders of this monument.
who see no wrecking ***** to stop them.
passivity, fills the pockets of the petty
coin by coin collecting courage to speak
outwardly outrageous
slurred hate speech contagious
barbary amounts its fortress from our silence,
one brick at a time.
I have seen the origins of intolerance,
holding together the cinder blocks of utterance
all the moments we should have said something and didn't.
In my selfish silence I see senselessness slip past my snares.
In my hush I hear hate harrow the ventricles of hearts much weaker
than the speaker.
Loathing left untended like
loose mountain snow
will like an avalanche gain strength
in movement.
To you,
the architects of abhorrence
the creators of execration
I plead: lay down your urban dictionaries.
Know that you lay a foundation
whose structure will build up,
but whose existence will tear down.
To you,
those who watch the construction
and stare in silence sufferance,
know that although no sweat has fallen,
and no aid has been laid by your hand,
That this malicious monument is as much yours
as it is theirs, through your willingness to watch it go up
one brick at a time.
Apr 5, 2015
Apr 5, 2015 at 11:46 AM UTC
once you claim to not have not experienced
all the fooling with women in youth
and exhausted the libido...
you never really want to claim a need
for their company while ageing and
growing jealous when her stories emerge
over drunken conversations when her
friends get invited -
i mean, it's almost like you have a *****
stitched to your forehead that
is a reminiscence of youth not claimed -
indeed old age is hell for women...
and youth the hell for men -
in between there are children...
feminism is an odd-ball... it's this rebellion
against an ageing patriarchy...
men who sway power...
what a weird and wired fetish of thinking...
why would i claim companionship with a woman
if she experienced all the sensual freedoms
in her youth... while all i got is a freedom
of a range of professions? exertion of one muscle
here, exertion of another muscle there...
had i stuck to full-time industrial roofing i'd
probably write one poem a week...
oh please, let's not obstruct with too much consciousness
of how poetry is defined, that's for english teachers
to rekindle hopes of a Shakespeare resurfacing
while ignoring Milton in the curriculum ante-vitae...
no, when youth is not allowed mutual pleasures...
the following concerns for life suddenly disappear...
there's no acidity relevant to it, no abhorrence,
no need to testify a revenge...
it's all a matter of comfort... and it's more comfortable
to be without a woman than with one,
considering the pelvic-pivot-of-sex was not strained
well enough to settle down into a friendship
with women... since my own sensuality was barely
scraped to consider a friendship...
instilled in me, the idea of two potential flints
scratched for a spark... but nonetheless remaining
two rounded marble spheres
that dimmed the lights... i felt it too opposing
to consider a half measured sensuality forced into
a platonic love... i might as well have been born a homosexual.
Apr 6, 2016
Apr 6, 2016 at 6:39 PM UTC