"abominate" poems
You are going to ask: and where are the lilacs?
and the poppy-petalled metaphysics?
and the rain repeatedly spattering
its words and drilling them full
of apertures and birds?
I'll tell you all the news.
I lived in a suburb,
a suburb of Madrid, with bells,
and clocks, and trees.
From there you could look out
over Castille's dry face:
a leather ocean.
My house was called
the house of flowers, because in every cranny
geraniums burst: it was
a good-looking house
with its dogs and children.
Remember, Raul?
Eh, Rafel? Federico, do you remember
from under the ground
my balconies on which
the light of June drowned flowers in your mouth?
Brother, my brother!
Everything
loud with big voices, the salt of merchandises,
pile-ups of palpitating bread,
the stalls of my suburb of Arguelles with its statue
like a drained inkwell in a swirl of hake:
oil flowed into spoons,
a deep baying
of feet and hands swelled in the streets,
metres, litres, the sharp
measure of life,
stacked-up fish,
the texture of roofs with a cold sun in which
the weather vane falters,
the fine, frenzied ivory of potatoes,
wave on wave of tomatoes rolling down the sea.
And one morning all that was burning,
one morning the bonfires
leapt out of the earth
devouring human beings --
and from then on fire,
gunpowder from then on,
and from then on blood.
Bandits with planes and Moors,
bandits with finger-rings and duchesses,
bandits with black friars spattering blessings
came through the sky to **** children
and the blood of children ran through the streets
without fuss, like children's blood.
Jackals that the jackals would despise,
stones that the dry thistle would bite on and spit out,
vipers that the vipers would abominate!
Face to face with you I have seen the blood
of Spain tower like a tide
to drown you in one wave
of pride and knives!
Treacherous
generals:
see my dead house,
look at broken Spain :
from every house burning metal flows
instead of flowers,
from every socket of Spain
Spain emerges
and from every dead child a rifle with eyes,
and from every crime bullets are born
which will one day find
the bull's eye of your hearts.
And you'll ask: why doesn't his poetry
speak of dreams and leaves
and the great volcanoes of his native land?
Come and see the blood in the streets.
Come and see
The blood in the streets.
Come and see the blood
In the streets!
23.3k
there is never an afterthought looking
at society as a whole but, in times of
discontent; we look disdain in the eyes
as it dulls humanities open-mindedness,
aghast
yet, we find clemency to overlook abominate
behavior in our fellow humans fore... the storm
will pass in the face of sullen words that may
darken our path; it behooves ethically to consider
their trials and tribulations in life as they unmask;
revealing their torment to mind and soul, giving
thought to their utterances and actions seeking
forgiveness, falling to their knees in repentance
dare we ask of their dilemma or do they shutter
in the wake of humanities wrath; shall we re-consider,
silently ingesting; fact or fiction in a society of closed
minds, refusing to shed their armor, their protection
from the few in the masses with no afterthought,
no understanding as a mind clashes with thoughts
of self-destruction; finding no justification
thinking God has abandoned them to face irrational
minds and behavior; not realizing He's right by their
side walking in their shoes; carrying them through
their burdens, trying to open up their eyes mind and
soul to see hope at salvations door , fore, they have
not been forsaken...the minds a terrible thing to waste
on societies triviality
Jan 11, 2013
Jan 11, 2013 at 2:25 PM UTC
he who i hated.
he who i despised.
he who i abhor.
he who i loathe.
he who i detest.
he who i abominate
noetheless,
i fall.
i fell.
i was pulled down
hard,
from where i used to be.
i've love.
i have loved.
i have love him
despite of those.
it's contradict
i've never expected it.
Oct 3, 2016
Oct 3, 2016 at 10:06 PM UTC
Unable to agree on a concession,
unable to meet eye to eye,
we squat on our
opposing buttocks
and hurl
insults at one
another.
The flowers grow,
all around, every Spring.
The warmth circles
and
lingers.
Even so, the algidity
has become us.
We are ever
so much
the products of
somebody's
drunken evening.
Air surrounds, and
though we inhale,
we manage still
to cross
no imaginary line.
I'm thinking.
You're thinking.
Yes, we will
leave one
another alone
one day; but
this is not that day.
I look past
you
and see
another you.
One that called
me friend.
I suppose that
for every
pleasant memory,
we'll now
spend our time
finding new
ways to abominate
one another.
Unable to agree on a concession,
unable to meet eye to eye,
we squat on our
opposing buttocks
and hurl
insults at one
another.
Apr 18, 2016
Apr 18, 2016 at 7:47 AM UTC
Disbelief of your tragedic grief.
Has no relief.
I guess we should rest.
Have tranqulity in your ability.
Doubts abominate my fate.
You should'nt have lied about being on my side. Can you make it So I don't have to wait?
Isolate the fears you create.
Swallow the hate.
The critics don't accommodate.
Don't follow the void that is hollow.
THAT IS INSANE IN YOUR BRAIN.
With only yourself to blame.
Standing barefoot & naked in the pouring rain.
© Harmony Sapphire . All rights reserved,
Jan 12, 2015
Jan 12, 2015 at 2:27 AM UTC
Blockaded from my conquests of the flesh
Dead-ended to my passionless endeavors
I wish not to delve into depth
But, to get my feet wet
Initiate me to be
Frustrated by time and time again
I never had a lover, nor a friend
Lacking a moral compass
I try to maintain common sense, nonetheless
The clock taunts
Negative thoughts haunt
Between drivel I am caught
These feelings too grave to be fought
Trumpets of doom begin to blow
A cringeworthy serenade
Life moving along so slow
I depart from this masquerade
Inflexible to my desires
Taking cover
Inflexible to my dreams
Evacuate
Inflexible to life
For life I abominate
Cody Shull, 2016
Oct 14, 2016
Oct 14, 2016 at 10:55 AM UTC
These days, I resent the inevitable morning,
The perpetual lethargy
And the whittling reminder that the world
Has already begun.
I hate the mass of the sand
As I stride past daffodils and quills
And children who are so inquisitive in their innocence
And those who will never receive a meaningful farewell.
I detest my unhappiness
And my cheery neighbours who insist
That their mornings are so eagerly anticipated
And waste endless teary tissues at night.
I despise the mushrooms that have grown on
The grassy and earthy and sandy paths,
That no shoes have kicked them mercilessly,
For no shoes have crossed them in a small eternity.
I loathe the universal perception
That "love" has become an illusion-
A tired and worthless roar
Into the increasingly desirable abyss.
I abominate the abnormality of hope
And that those who empty their shallow pockets of it
Are greeted with a similar distaste
To the farmers who spread manure in the spring.
However, what I hate most is the relentless truth
That I consistently find myself comfortable,
Educated, loved, well-fed,
And bitter
And the fact that so many others do not.
Mar 22, 2016
Mar 22, 2016 at 7:26 PM UTC
"ABEYANCE"
You left me only,
You left me lonely,
Know that I abominate,
I'm serious ,I absolute.
You used me ,
You never abeyance,
You were absence,
I don't think you,
did ever love me.
All you did it was to hurt me,
I see it was your purpose,
I was not adverse,
Know that I abomination,
I see it was not attraction.....
Mar 26, 2017
Mar 26, 2017 at 3:04 AM UTC
I despise
I detest
I abhor
I abominate
I strongly dislike
I hate
Why did this happen?
I hate that we
never talk anymore.
I hate that I
(still)
freeze up and can't talk to you.
I hate that I
get so self-conscious.
I hate that you
gave me false hope.
I hate how you've
started smoking,
become a stoner.
That kills me.
It makes me want to
slap you
hard
across the face.
I wish I
wouldn't look at your face
and see
a missed opportunity.
I wish I
wouldn't look at you
and become so filled with regret
that I want…
to hurt myself.
I wish I
could look at you
and feel nothing.
I just want to forget.
And then…
after all these
red
angry
thoughts
quit rushing through
my brain
all at once,
a tiny part of me says
in a whisper
that feels like a shout,
"Why are you blaming him?
It's your fault, you know."
And then everything
collapses
around me.
I want to sink to my knees
and curl into a ball.
I want to cry so that
my tears
disintegrate my body
until there is
absolutely nothing left.
Because deep down,
I know this is true.
It was because I
couldn't talk.
I was
too quiet.
I was
too shy.
And now,
when I look at you,
all I see
is what I saw
before.
But now,
whenever I see it,
a deep longing fills my chest.
I hate that feeling.
I wish this
wasn't so frustrating.
You probably look at me
and feel nothing
while I look at you
and radiate disappointment.
I hate that you
made me feel this way.
I hate that you
can move on so easily.
You were important to me
you piece of ****
Jun 24, 2014
Jun 24, 2014 at 9:17 PM UTC
Gathering the fragments of shattered lives.
We must enter the chaos
Follow Dante’s path into the fires
Where innocents are dragged to the molten evil,
Boiling in the dark caldrons of the abominate soul
We are not born of heaven
Yet salvation can be ours to give.
Fighting deep within the chaos
Finding each lost soul, embracing the disparate
Even as our minds seek solidity
Battling the chaos of the unanswered why
Aug 13, 2019
Aug 13, 2019 at 9:54 AM UTC