Best Loathing Poems

I wasn't completely sure who I just was, so 
I counted off three-chimes of the bell in the
clock tower.... I'm out late.... Nighthawks swoop
and Crickets hush their tensile ratchet, until I
pass by.

He pushed by me, cutting me off, as I pointed
towards the Hotel on the...

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My suit of self-loathing no longer fits
The mirror of compassion tells me so
Years of bad-intentions held back growth 
After a time, the length of my sleeves bind
I didn’t realize I’ve become over-sized

These angry pants are fit for a small child
How silly I look with cuffs...

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Step after step I move forward.
Into the abyss, 	
Into the pit
Black, thick, silent,
The pool is filled
 Yet the tar is so bleak and empty.
Fully submerged there is nothing, 
Nothing but me
Nothing to smell hear or see
So I focus on me
My weaknesses
My faults
My mistakes
I feel all...

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Wither away in my old shoes
rust brown thoughts
sorrow is not anyone's possession
a single tear belongs to us all
I know
I have stolen the book of wisdom
in the blackness of life
looking back
I see it all
beauty
loneliness
sad songs
beaten dreams

In a broth scolded hot
boiling all my clichés
steam fills the windows...

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I am your defication
I am farted galvanism
To be wiser than one's creator
Is no great source of pride....

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I love holding you in my arms
Bodies entwined,
Breathing of life and contentment
Together

And as I hold you in my arms
I loathe
That all my mind can do-
Week in the thrall of content-
is Hold you some more....

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I don’t like much poetry,
as I dislike most modern art,
there is too much fakery, even here,
in these paltry words, the effort
not living up to standards
I set for myself and others, unfairly,
but still bothersome....

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They were moments without meaning…
A soothing illusion of safety during a storm.

Well intended tokens of misplaced faith …
Tin medals commemorating saints long forgotten.

Words that became meaningless syllables…
Partial truths spun from the webs of insecurity.

Certainties revealed to be uncertainties…
A passion lost in perverse notions of chivalry.

Emotion...

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Personal vicissitudes pronounced irrepressible self loathing

Ever since mine late boyhood
when unstoppable coded 
cellular processes did segue
I experienced abhorrence
toward yours truly,
an extremely introverted kid,
whose parents nor siblings
(one younger and older sister) could
not arouse him 

out of his emotional torpor 
(even enlisting powers of druid)
akin being on...

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The floor scrubbed raw but still they reflect
Stains from my own mess of stupidity and regret

A contaminant leper for all to see
This holy place I should be forsaken to be

My tainted soul shown through the cracking mirrors
I do not deserve even one of your tears

This...

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i know the sound
"her"laugh,"her" voice
terr it up!
especially now.
ring ring
i know what you're thinking about.
or at least i know what you think of me.
ring ring
it's always been this way.
from the moment i changed your plans.
ring ring
when i no longer wanted to be like you.
RING RING
i see...

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Peroxide blonde and covered in petals,
Bleach kills flowers - She’s less softener than metal
A body rooted in pride, trying to run, Jackal and hide. 
There’s some double entendres, catch them if you can,
There’s something about her, try to find it, you’ll both be damned. 
To...

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The mind is a mysterious vessel
It carries decisions and memories of yesterday but
No matter how many whiskeys, they will not disappear
It replays life altering choices
Alongside choices not made, in a whine
A stamp of regret imprinted on the brain 
The only way to erase it, through...

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My messed up mind draws a blank,
My motivational efforts have sank
Nothing but a chaotic stream of stagnant thoughts,
Starting a mental battle which continuously has to be fought, 
Sleep deprived and mentally drained,
My eyes can’t lie they truly show there strained, 
Trying to hide my psychotic...

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On Pimple Pond

Pocked, our dreams spurt from cabin walls. 
Woolen cover and cotton pillow catch 
pin point boils from day breaking, like pitted glass.
White pebbled path meanders the hill’s cheek, 
wet from being squeezed by nights cold hard hands, 
to where set-tables will not wait...

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