Best Loathe Poems
How do I loathe thee? Let me count the ways.
I loathe thee so that I throw up on sight
Of thee, and when my ire is at a height,
I grit my teeth and plot revenge for days.
My loathing for thee, cheater, takes its toll.
Thy empty claims of innocence, I scorn.
I caught thee thrice! My trust was from me torn.
To see thee broke and hungry is my goal.
I loathe thee with the passion I once spent
On sweet romance when I thought thee sublime.
I’d like to see thee living in a tent.
Indulge me as I tell thee one more time
I'd gladly pony up my last red cent
To have thee maimed if mugging weren’t a crime!
Drowning in this whirlpool of emotions and facing the darkness myself
Cyclones of flower petals pour all over the floor
Their beauty I compare to myself
Being force-fed the concept of beauty by shallow beings
An objective subject not meant to be demolished by a screen
Our definition , Our own bodies , Our own faiths , Our own soul
Strong men , women , human beings preach about self-love
They scream ; love yourself
They accept themselves for who they are , but
do I accept myself ?
My skin , My body , My face
I am the person I need to love the most
but I try to become the person that society will accept
My complexion , myself ; I am not an object
I am a living , breathing human being with my own beliefs
And yet I misplace my beliefs and I start to believe the shallow lies
Am I enough ? What is missing ?
How much of myself do I need to lose before I start to become
a fresh canvas
What else do I need to do to fit into society's mold?
My friends tell me I'm enough but I'm so fixed by what it
truly means to be beautiful
To me , my opinion doesn't matter yet it does the most
The truth ; I already know but I refuse to believe
Destroying myself
My mind in a state of war
I'll always hate my complexion
I'll never be enough , I'll never be more
Contradiction
A mixture of Self-love
And self-loathe
I Detest myself
Eyes itchy, open
Red and heavy. Limbs like weights.
Insommnia stinks...
The frigid air bites at my nose,
As I step outside for a smoke;
The pristine snow fills my boots,
And I snuggle deeper into my cloak;
A foot and a half in the last two days,
To me it seems surreal;
An icy droplet hits my neck,
And I let out a startled squeal;
I silently curse this dratted snow,
That froze my water pipes;
When I said it out loud my husband complained,
“That all you can do, is gripe”
It’s pure as fresh snow
and as pale as a ghost.
It’s the shade on the light spectrum
that I loathe the most.
A beluga whale, the milky moon
and the aftermath of bleach
and all my body’s hidden places
just out of the sun’s reach.
It lies on unlined paper
and rests on decaying bones.
On a virginal wedding dress
in the trash, it should be thrown.
A fluffy marshmallow,
billowy clouds and certain rice
just add them to the growing list
of the hue that fails to entice.
I can’t stress this sentiment enough
this tint is truly beastly.
On baby powder, salt, and mayo,
the color white is not for me.
*I wrote this poem on April 6, 2021, as part of a ’30 days of poetry’ challenge. This was day 6 and the prompt was: Write a poem inspired by a color. It’s pretty obvious what color I choose from reading my poem, but if you are still stumped after you finish, reread the last line. Thanks, and as always, leave me some love.
I am the queen of self destruction.
Ritualistic Razor sharp scrutiny of my reflection -
constantly spewing hate at my mid-section,
whilst effortlessly faking the pursuit of perfection.
A crumbled up heart beckons restitution in the midst
of train-wrecked relationships,
ruinous friendships,
and crumbled up to do lists,
in white-knuckled fists.
The essence of happiness remains a mere mirage
for one who is an expert in self-sabotage.
With nothing but empty reminders sprayed out on a dreary collage,
it is exhausting living an ever consuming facade.
Procrastinated plans worship at my feet,
whilst brooding and bellowing as I hit snooze on repeat.
Impatiently my ambitions take a seat,
before wisely declaring undeniable defeat.
Daily my mind’s army assumes a familiar avoidant stance.
Love and hate engage, again, in a repetitive dance,
between an avoidant retreat and a stagnant advance.
It is clear: as long as I sit on the throne of
self-destruction,
for me… for being whole..
there will not be another chance..
Flying ….love or loathe?
Personally….I am a loather
From the beginning to journeys end
I just want it to be over!!
So much waiting is involved in flying
Waiting, waiting and then some more
Great patience and time is required
Just to walk through that plane door
There are passengers who strife to get ahead
Though their seats are going nowhere?
Have half a house in hand luggage
Shoved in overhead compartments everywhere!
Being squashed in between two others
Wedged in a narrow little seat
Desperate to go for a wee in the stinky toilet
Can’t get out as next door is fast asleep!
The cabin air has only two settings
Freezing-cold or Hot-stuffy…..no fresh or breezy
Turbulence is random
Motion sick, scared and oh so queasy!
There are always the general ferals on planes
Nose pickers and those completely without manners
The coughers and splutterers
“The absolute delights” who love to drop silent clangers!
Finally…..the plane is on solid ground
Whole body completely stiff and sore
Brain fogged, weary and feeling quite gross
“Can someone just please open that exit door”?
“Get me out” of this confined germ filled capsule
So I can stand up , stretch, breathe real air
Every flight I swear “This will be my last”
“ I will NEVER again fly anywhere”!
For Those Who Loathe America
~*~
At Pearl Harbor, many young lives
were lost.
Those too young now~ never valued
their auspicious cost.
As kids, in the USA, we learned to
have our say.
Sadly, that all ended this January!
We are stamped as evil, like sides
of dead cattle.
Tomorrow, it's we, who are nothing
but government chattel.
I wish,profoundly, the Founders of this
country were here.
They cherished the land and held people
dear.
I have no idea why hateful poetry overruns
the USA, is even allowed on this site.
Not only from the USA,but from other
Countries, it's a pure international delight!
You can count the number of hate poems
here. (In the hundreds.)
Comments, too, delight in kicking
America and Americans, so dear.
Sing not of world peace then, how
insincere can that be?
When you loathe a country, welcoming
all, coming here legally, by the Statue of Liberty.
I foresee a second Auschwitz, to be reborn
soon here.
For those who don't like us...some would
kick us in the rear?
I pray the hate and insults stop!
They are more than unkind,made by
thoughtless fops.
There is no out-a-gration quota here.
Just Cartels making millions, with
Fentanyl, drugs, and little children,
so dear and full of tears and fear!
I have seen poetry, so horrid against
Canada, too.
I requested its removal, but denied,
a day.....I shall forever rue.
We do not behead people here or drown
children as other countries now do.
Nor kidnap hundreds of children at once,
That’s too ugly to admit, to many of you.
So while you kiss marigolds and refuse any
reality poetry,you weep over dead animals
and dead trees.
These are things I wish I’d never see!
I must detest one,
just the one, yes,
battle within myself
so that I can love the rest.
I use words and phrases
that hold my sense of conflict
so that my strict faith
may rest in my wish to love.
Our grip on love
may not exist; so let it not slip
into the wasteland of my mind -
a mind that holds so much conflict.
Are we born to create a passion
for a battle within ourselves?
Who can love
with no comparison with hatred?
So, yes, I do loathe one,
engender protest for one.
Am I to kill? I suspect not.
But hate? Oh yes, do hate.
(Sep 2022)
I loathe the mirrors for their glassy silence
With an eyelid many things are hidden
But they remind us in hiding
What we try to put away in oblivion
I loathe the mirrors for their likeness
For their contained mimicry of faces
For having measured distance to the near
And for having the same sparkle of my eyes
I loathe the mirrors without mercy
For being an open window to my soul
Because they return everything I spit at them
Because they return my hate in clear calm
Zoom call “White Women” and “White Dudes” for Kamala raises millions.
What hypocrites you all are!
What next? Trannies and muslims and black dudes for Kamala?
Democrats love segregation. Always have.
Imagine the media if Donny held a White Dudes for Trump fundraiser?
How blind and dumb do you have to be? WTFU!
No angels on Earth
For dreamers and screamers to find
Whether they lose or catch their breath
Lost in deep recesses of the mind
Teeming with fantasies
Where fairies toe a perfect line
Drawn in sentimental seas
Where their unicorns decline
Cooking perfect meals
Observing sublime etiquette
Clinching integrity deals
Won on a truth ticket
That frowns on human frailties
Blemishes in character
Flaws, foibles and fragilities
Inherent in every human sector and vector
In which the human mind perceives a mirage
Conjuring up images of snow white angels
Whose main purpose serves to sabotage
Any whiff of weakness sent to imperfections jails
Dreamers create as they indulge in self delusion
In Utopia where perfection reigns supreme
And a fusion of illusion and transition
Ensure dreamers blame
Men and women who don’t conform
To Stereotypes
They form
In insane minds that refuse to reform
Their misconceptions
About merits and demerits of reality
Married to laudable perceptions
In which human foibles outperform the convoluted fragility
That sweeps the acceptance of imperfection
Under a shame carpet
Away from any section
That builds castles in the air and pampers paper tigers in a Trojan puppet.
I am in love with mystery
What makes an clock loud to silence but quiet to sound
Can we taste the clouds rain has burst from
Touch the hearts of sinners for remorse
June is my friend
And so is May
But when I sat to think about it...
So is every month
When it was hot I enjoyed the salt my sweat makes
Just the right seasoning to a summers day
When it's cold I will run like a child
Through the snowy mountain caps
Singing Christmas songs and spinning a dreidel
I remember the boy I will kiss
Puckering up to a potential greater than puberty
Dancing to the thunder as it claps a standing ovation
I am in love with the moments when a scholar is lost at words
I am infatuated with priests who pray silently
I am the holder of the forgotten
And the descendent of the mystery
Rise and be what makes them ill
Shall always make me smile
don't fall in love
Loving him in a romantic way
From a one way street till endless highways
Till he signaled no entry sign
I was a fool or maybe the luckiest of all
For some people,
That happens once in a lifetime
Or
For others,
They fall in love over and over again
How can he deny now
When I defend him then
'Whatever the cost'
What was the past, today
Where is the future, tomorrow
O honey!
You will never know
Cause he never knew what he had
And he never realized when he lost
Baby!!
"Don't fall in love"
"I can't lift you"
It's not everybody's game
They fall in love
Some rise in love
In their own personhood and love...
But
She fall in love deep down his feet;
don't fall in love!
don't fall in love.
I loathe how I react;
Without even a touch
my pulse will be racing;
As I hear your soft voice
I fight with this feeling;
I loathe how I react,
the fact that I respond
with an internal moan;
Uncontrollable high,
left at war with hormones;
I loathe how I react;
Absolutely futile,
impossible to try
halt both sides and cease fire;
Never able to lie;
I loathe how I react;
So sensitive to this,
every moment is new;
Nothing else makes me feel
like being around you.