Two guys by a bus stop, and they have nowhere to go.
They begin merging plucks and ribbits into a melting comfort.
Their destination is the Earth, and sedans honk at them.
Red stop sign becomes a resting place for a fellow cellist.
Fair lime crickets play along to the weeds, if just for this one moment.
And the taste of copper and paper is thrown at them in antipathy.
They are not homeless if the meadow’s honey is their home.
Yellow plaid is unlikely to grow here, it is foreign, says the guttle.
Different hues of blue in their familiar magical background.
No mortal whistle in the gale ought to be uttered during the tree’s ballet.
One hurricane lantern is shared between deities, or humans, or leaves,
And you can barely make out the vicars of string and bloodline.
Powder white porcelain glares at the back of their senseless heads,
Resting on a moss bed wearing a dress fly-fish dip in and a bear died for.
With a face made of zig-zags, one of them eats their mom’s snack,
The other swims with a black dog in gin bottles and stolen mint.
What a paradox, cried the wolves; they soon bellowed along.
Love is alike a whisper among the deaf and a light among the blind. Many have claimed to understand it and many have claim to be apart of it but alike religion, they all seem to fall short of scripture.
Love unites us all is what they say according to the rational of those claiming to be within the grasps of these inauspicious schisms as they are coddled betwixt irony and self indulgence.
Your love is salvaged only by the reluctant anecdote of those accused and in favor of self-actualization.
Their love is not only a topic of mass hysteria brought forth by the fraudulent offspring of timeless arrogance but "love" is also a wedge between free will and the limitations prevailed by hatreds depth.
Love, is beyond the reckoning of dimensional rifts and broken spatial constructs contiguous by the darkness of man born antipathy.
This is the love you idolize and seek victory within.
This is the love you claim as a self redeeming gift.
This is the love you can only grasp tangibly and without rapport.
My love, wasn't
Take the love out of poetry
and, no matter the scheme,
it will not work for me --
take the love out of
relationships, and no matter
the looks, for me, the attraction
cannot be -- take the God out
of spirituality...and you have
taken Heaven from the Heaven
or Hell dichotomy -- and what
is left?! What we have...a world
of strife and antipathy.
As I walk along the narrow path
Far away from the din of the city crowd
I feel the pain of sadness envelop me,
A symphony of stubborn sadness
That resides in the inner depths of my soul.
At the forest rim, a vast valley stretches.
Unknown farmers toiled on their trucks.
She will not find me at the forest’s edge.
Do I want to encounter her anew?
She is a symphony of steady, unruly moods.
I approach a farm, yet despite the summer breeze,
I find no joy nor pity, no undying love or hatred.
Sorrow lingers as indecision wrecks my peace.
I yearn for simple silence, yet in that calm around
Thoughts thunder, thriving on troubles and worry.
Can I find a warm and bright surrender to my turmoil?
My heart is like a see-saw, now up, now down.
I feel her soft lips turn into anger that knows no bounds.
What is love really like? I want delight and happiness.
I find animosity and antipathy. No, no. There is also
Strong feelings of adulation, allegiance, and amity.
As fear creeps in, I knock on the farm door.
Beauty opens for my embrace. The kiss is long.
Hope shines as we enter the warm hearth.
“Breakfast is ready, my love.” We eat in ecstasy.
That cold sparkle of despicable antipathy,
which never waned and was held inside secretly,
didn't start any true affection or desire in me:
on death's final breath it'll agonize me!
Turning somewhere else is seeking vengeance,
from somebody so embolden by anger and apathy;
being unkind is showing the falsity of pretense:
cling to me and spare yourself more days of agony!
Compassion is another form of unpretentious sympathy,
it must be felt adequately to be convincing and genuine;
no comfort is offered, only shallow words that swiftly dwine:
their echo is louder than a thunder rattling any gloomy sky!
Turning somewhere else to find a plausible answer
won't alleviate the anxiety built by a tragic outcome;
come to the senses, knock down the wall of lonely prisoner:
behind it stands the road to freedom, don't be too fearsome!
It's either deranged madness or unwillingness to appease
an imploration suffocated by tears so mercilessly unheeded;
no arms are open, no ears listen to anyone who's wrecked and afraid:
will human mercy be shown when the tides turn and events displease?
Psychopath
Sociopath
Neuropath’s
remind
Every ‘path’
an open route
locked inside
our minds
Empathy
Antipathy
Pathological
liars
Waiting there
to mark the way
as circumstance
— requires
(The New Room: March, 2024)
Bitterness or resentfulness, especially when long-standing.
I feeling of hate and ongoing anger
Bitterness is where I am at null disclaimer
about something in the past standings
Bitterness I am long standing in my emotions
Bitterness spite my hate my new devotions
Malignancy animosity antipathy
The mistreatment of me unholy
In a ship on the seas of unreasonably
I am sinking in a ship of no anchor for rancour
8/6/23
For No anchor for rancour Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Unseeking Seeker
I’ve not thought any one of them The Best
As to ask the seeker to on it rest,
And have neither any reckoned The Worst
At getting the recipient for a burst:
Of Sympathy and Nicer Empathy
Apathy and Antipathy…
Sympathy we would show on a pavement
And easily continue stopped movement;
Empathy warns you of Rare Sacrifice:
In future ‘A give-back that should suffice’,
Apathy fails not to The Needy pierce,
Even as nothing about it is fierce:
Requests for response to a thing steady
And the much sought feedback never ready,
Antipathy: That on the door your knock
A facsimile of hitting a block…
Yet note thee: Sky never The Resplendent
To whomever is A Rash Dependent.
Black Magic Potions
Across vacancy memories invoke forgotten years
Exodus from antipathy inscrutably liberates fears
Intransience spiritually battles amoral challenges
Crucially revitalized measures presaging changes
Deceptions obscure lies within fraudulent sleeves
Bringing adversaries down indictments aggrieves
Justifications echoing beyond overpowering roars
Unlike forsaken vessels reality lands upon shores
Probing mortal frailties evading blind perceptions
Enlightenment transcend old black magic potions
Delusion transmogrified into vanishing blemishes
Swept along eroding waves of abandoned wishes
09/11/2013
Aboard cruise liner:
Splendour of the Seas
Tale of two Cracks
__________________
Farmers Heel crack
S C R E A Ms
Bountiful harvest
is no time to rest
From Farm to Market
Middlemen exploit
Money lenders squeeze
Scheme benefit vanishes
Bumper crops
finally yield cropped price
Farmers lugged
on soil to survive
But best efforts
and worst System
cracked their hopes
created cavities on heels
Unable to crack
mystery of destiny
hung by rope on tree
World calls it suicide
But is a murder
abetted by apathy of society
Land Peel crack
S C R E A Ms
Ecology cycle of
Water-Vapour-Clouds-Rain
callously breached
Depleting water table
meagre network of irrigation
leaving soil parched
Brittle cracked pieces of soil
sliced sand gasping for life
Disregard for Environment
causing floods, famines
drenching, dehydrating soil
depleting nutritious layer
fertile land turning barren
Earth suffers miscarriage
feeding bosom dries
Blossom dies
Flora and Fauna cries
World calls it Natural calamity
But is ecology's murder
abetted by humans antipathy
____________________________
© Dr Hitendra Mehta
Merciless movement
Atonal antipathy
Nonsensical noise
clarinet crescendo
soaring above
the collided cityscape
Harried hordes
Aggravating acrimony
Terrifying tumult
piano playing
plaintively over
the primal phantasmagoria
Torrid traffic
Alienated aliens
Nihilistic neon
soaring strings
singing through
the striking scenery
Hatred comes in many a grade.
Divergent backgrounds will leave some swayed.
Aggressors will rarely share the facts.
They hide and trawl and wait to attack.
Kindness is not found in their hearts.
Antipathy and malice tears them apart.
They look around for power to gain.
Depraved contending is now their game.
Rogues will come and rogues will go.
Sadistic victimizing is now their goal.
Awfully imply they test our decrees.
These fainthearted consignments are never pleased.
A long mile I have to go
I have to go in search of truth
but it is within me in my soul.
Truth is pure like fire which burns untruth wholly,
It is just like sun which has powerful energy,
capable to destroy unwanted things .
A long mile I have to go
I have to go in search of humanity
which is buried regularly .
Humanity connects the people by heart ,
It removes antipathy and discrimination.
true fulfilment
an ethereal fantasy
of
tempetuous romance
in a
perfect distillation
free
of hierarchy
this
creative antipathy
a diffused presence
the perspective
of impersonal beauty
in
a
potential muse
i stacked sandbags against the
river of your fervent woe hoping
you would stay safe and dry-
but when the tide crashed, you crashed,
and i am having a hard time letting go;
for you are the one who i wished
loved me most…
now i am utterly in love with your
cradlesong ghost
feeding love to you as you starved,
hungered and thirsted for redemption,
the kind only the Lord can bestow-
i tried hard
(too hard)
to make you believe i am the only one who
can hold you when winter frost lingers,
soft white snow sadly whispers solitude,
for you slipped right out of my
sonorous fingers
touching antipathy,
fearing what can never be known
has become my familiar habit-
you need forgiveness
and
i need-
you
as i walk toward your grave
i feel the love you did crave;
goodbye, beloved-
you were gentle and brave
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
12.2.19
Your Best New Poem Poetry Contest
Emile Pinet
Related Poems