These Hate Narrative poems are examples of Narrative poems about Hate. These are the best examples of Hate Narrative poems written by international PoetrySoup poets
In the past I remember how things were so simple
When I was little my cheeks had such cute dimples
Looking back I remember how sweet I was as a child
When I think again my heart told me I was so wild
Yet, in time my simple choices was revealed as true as anyone
The reason I was the way I am today, I did things, to get done
Finishing lots of my undone ideas was so incredibly hard
So I figure my heart and choices should never hold in no bard
I never thought I would learn heart aches and pain
With such under statement I did things for no gain
I was a child who held true to what he has learned
But as we got older those kinda perspective would get me burned
When I made up my mind that people was not kind
I led myself in a confusion that I was blind
In the past I do recall that seeing is believing
So I was the one who stood their with friends leaving
Alone, I felt I did not belong, I cherish each person who knew me
I got older too see how the world works it stung me like a bee
The feeling of tingling ran through my vain
My view of the world and people who knew me was stained
Now I know they are out for their selves with no kind feelings
Life I know is just a joke because of who I hung out with seeing
Today as I look at the world it is in such shambles and astray
And rather fallow everyone I just walk away
Nascent you were to this macrocosm,
Blessed you were to parents,
Dyspoeic, unsounded from mother’s womb you emerged,
Many conceived you were with Jesus,
Afore brought forth into beingness.
Doctors resuscitate with oxygen mask,
Travail, thirty minutes passed brought you back.
Triumphant over death, won life for yourself.
Whence you cried, Father gloating in joy cried a river.
Thence avouch, sweven God’s work as you grow a man.
engendered after, saw father’s fond on you.
Through many years of togetherness;
Pettifogger we fought and punished.
Though non twins, grew more like identical.
when you cried a child, I cried and still does.
Such is the love of brother, my brother.
Thither you went away to boarding school.
Whereby learned ways, good and bad.
And drew more to wassailer, drunkenness.
dissever we became, perceived I abhorred my brother.
Fondly Imbibe in whisky, disremembering your sole purpose,
So fond nearly you died like once when born half dead.
And whence in hospital bed you battled for life,
I cried a river, my brother.
I do not hate as I hate cockatrice,
I care more than I care the girl of my life.
And whence you live wastefully rummy, I rue.
Come at able, find oneself and the purpose, my brother.
The life you once battled and won when first born,
Be not languish in vain.
Be cumbered and hugger-mugger no more.
Ere in final resting place you lay,
I invoke to envision you gratified after years.
Heedless of how you impeach, I despise;
I merely have one brother.
My brother! My brother.
You think that you know me
But you don't know at all
Every day you say your sorry
After that I fall
I hate it when you lie
You think your doing good
When all you cause is pain
Just tell me that you hate me
So my life won't be in vein...
The Morning Star
By Nate Spears
There’s clarity in the depths on my deepest thought
I’m never blind to a world of darkness
I’m challenged by whatever in time
Defeated by my ambition in others
Close to my last day
But far from my last night
And I’m light years away
From my very last fight
The actions of the man
Creates the path of his life
The absence of the man
Restrains his rights
The mentality of a man
Saves the day he's granted
The intent of the man
Leads him the way the earth has planned it
So feel my rose as it fades
Feel my pedals bring a new days
As I sprout beyond the stars
To a galaxy that stands out
The route brings the creation to light
After the day
After the night
After the darkness
After my arrival
The morning is tainted
The day is seen in a human’s eye
Sight has been sinful before and after
You and I
This is the heart filled reason
For the birth Christ.
My Dark Past/My Dark Secret/ can’t gain any movement stuck in the same positions where I been standing for the past five year I can’t succeed higher elevations. I have been lost for a person who I was passionate about. But completely ended when I committed A Love Crime Now I am away can’t sleep no flex fuel to keep me awake / now drive past my pain smile at my tears laugh at my troubles/I am still standing I can feel my feet and I can still hear the wind blow/I don’t have compass to direct me to right corridor/ I have been knock off this course for too long/ Even A GPS system can’t redirect me/ Now expressions on your face confuse me while I take a shot of Hennessy/ My life has been whole bunch of gambles and not enough great decisions
The day of reckoning came as the rain, washing the scent of violence and greed from all who stood in it. Waters of justice rose, not to drown the wicked, but wash them, and those who swam in the sickness of hate and unforgiveness would crash on the rocks of a new shoreline. They would be left broken, in the twilight of lost hope. The tide of atonement brought up those who were low, and brought low those who bathed in pride, so that they might taste its rot, and breathe its stink. A man stood on the hill before a crowd. Every breath he took was rank with the hate around him. A voice carried up.
"Do not look down from your high place! Will the wrath of God descend upon us?"
He answers, "No. The wrath of God will depend upon you."
*From the incomplete book, "The Wrath" by Caleb Smith
I know...poetrysoup...not storysoup, but I am trying to find inspiration to finish, as I am stuck. I hoped posting a few parts of it would help. The poem, 'Holding Sand' is also from the book.
What is she singing off, war or peace?
What is she humming of, that made the
Grasses howled and the trees bent so low touching the ground?
Why would she disturb the peace of the forest
In such early morning with her bitter songs and voice
Breaking the winds and rendering the forest homeless?
The birds stopped working and the insects went into hiding.
I saw the frog running away from its abode in such a hurry
Nothing chased it but her song and the terrible creaking voice.
I watched the sky swirled in despair
Then the air wept and ceased.
I heard the voice in my nightmare
It woke me up from my lonely and humble Bed,
damaging my thoughts and spirit.
So i came out to see who sings,
Behold it was a maiden down the valley singing to her self
A song of sorrow and agony while she sown her
Is she maltreated? had someone she loved died in the war?
Had they taken her fiance away to join the soldiers?
I thought as i stood watching her in anger.
I hate that voice of agony that prevent me from sleeping.
I hate that voice of sorrow that swirled the sky and stooped the activities of humans and animals.
But i wont blame her
Something must have been bothering her which i do not know
Yet she work diligently and perfectly in the garden.
I must confess that her diligence to work attract and seized my emotions.
maybe even a little stressed,
heart beats completely out of my chest,
I can't the image out of my head,
I rest head in my bed, restless, all night Oh i'm so breathless,
This inflicted, conflicted pain, may come from within me,
but it started with you.
Something so bittersweet, often lies through your teeth,
that's what you fed me.
Stay true, is what I said to you, even this action was cruel.
In this private world, I'm all alone
I don't like how it hurts.
Completely isolated myself from the world,
it's been days since I answered my phone.
Am I hurt, or did I receive what I was worth?
Dwelling on the past is my stress,
I cant move on, I'm definitely depressed.
Insecurities building on me, with your manipulation and painful memories.
I seize to believe this is my life's destiny,
I need a revision,
What exactly is this thing we call living?
I forgot good times, I let in the bad.
Being me, living life, freely, positive intensity,
it made made you mad.
Innocent girl learned how to live a lie,
life passed by,learned how to fake a smile and cry inside.
I need a lift, a need to rejuvenate,
I need to release this hate, at this rate, I hope I'm not too late.
Overly emotional, this experience..hurt my physical, mental, well- being
Who could cause so much pain, was it just me?
How could your aggression, and obsession allow me to numb the delight from life.
I neglect the light,the love, the girl, who once knew how to live.
She was wonderful, highly intellectual, and oh so beautiful,
Now she's evidence of physical,emotional damaged work from the palm of your hands.
Completely broken,maybe even for good.
Why does hatred exist
I don't believe I have ever hated
I have surely disliked but hatred is an extreme
It is certainly not something to be proud of
It is something to avoid
Nothing should ever be a reason to hate
Most wars are caused by evil men
Wanting not only their fair share
But that of their neighbours
And their neighbour's neighbours
It's never ever enough
Where does it end
Greed is a major factor
Control is another
The craving to be king of the mountain
To rule, to enslave
To conquer at all cost
The lives of many are no obstacle
An entire nation, a whole race of people
It matters not... power corrupts
Absolute power corrupts absolutely
None of us living today
Will see a world where total peace exists
But this fact shouldn't deter us
To throw up our hands
And say “It's impossible”
Nothing in this world is impossible
If the will to succeed is present
I have always had faith
That man will always do the right thing
I still have that faith!
© Jack Ellison 2014
In the summer of 1949, I lay in the grass in "Grannys" back yard picking clovers with 8 year
old Ada Bee, my black and only friend. Ada Bee had six fingers on her left hand and picking
Clovers meant that I could stare at her hand without embarrassing either one of us.
My "Granny" was actually a neighbor who had taken us in when my father left. She was kind
and took brother and me fishing; cooked cornbread on the fireplace; made snow ice
cream;taught us to can and love the Lord.
On my special clover picking day, my blood grandmother, "Mammaw" came for a visit, which
usually lasted a month because she had no actual residence and pawned herself off at one
of her eleven children's homes during the year.
It was now my mother's turn to house Mammaw, though mother had no actual residence,
either. Hopefully Granny would like Mammaw since they both loved to fish and Mammaw
would have a place to live for another month out of the year.
Ada Bee and I were giggling just as Mammaw walked up, ecstatic that we had found a four
leaf clover. I smiled anxious to tell her of our luck, but instead she grabbed my hair and
began pulling it with vengeance and slapping me hard.
I was in shock as I ran all over Grannys' 13 acres, cutting my legs on the barbed wire fence
and blackberry thorns, falling down, as she continued to chase me with a big Hickory stick.
When I finally made it back to Grannys house, Ada Bee was gone.
"Granny, Granny, I screamed, please help me!"
"No Josie! Granny said, Ada Bee is a nice little girl and there isn't anyone else to play with
around here!" Granny kept turning in circles covering me with her big apron so that Mammaw
couldn't hit me with that stick. She could have easily said, "Josie, please leave my home",
but she didn't.
It was at age eight, that I learned people are prejudiced and have hate in their hearts and
this hate is further harvested by what they teach their children. It was then that I learned
never to judge a person by the color of their skin. There have been times when I have
wished that everyone could feel the intrusion on innocence that I felt as it may have made
them a better human being.
I also learned that God does not love one of his creations more than he loves another of his
creations. Nor does he love one land more than another land that he created.
Someday, I hope He will tell me what happened to my friend Ada Bee for I never saw or
heard from her again.