I Fucking Hate You
I Fucking Hate You
You know why
I Fucking Hate You
Your light has died
I Fucking Hate You
You messed up my life
I used to be happy
Now I just cry
Ok, maybe not happy
But I was alive
Now I am numb
That is your crime
I Fucking Hate You
And that sparkle in your eye
I thought you were different
But you’re just a guy
I Fucking Hate You
You didn’t even try
I Fucking Hate You
For saying goodbye
Who do you think you are
On your horse so high
You’re not a saint
And neither am I
And now as I write
Another poem you’ve inspired
Warm and fuzzy is gone
Replaced by fire
I Fucking Hate You
I hope you die
I Fucking Hate You
How’s that for shy?
rate this poem: 
(8 votes, average poem rating: 3.88 out of 5)
Tonight
Don’t wanna brush my teeth tonight
In too soft a mood thinking of you
that I’d rather eat M&Ms
like when we watched movies and the night-in didn’t end.
I’d hate to disturb our toothbrushes
Their talking about how now
they’re too good of friends
though I will so when you read what I’ve penned
you won’t cringe at the the poems
of you I
to write so intend
(in giving you Reese’s Pieces then
I was giving you my all - and tonight’s no different).
rate this poem:
(3 votes, average poem rating: 2 out of 5)
Unsaid
You smile of your inner child
eggs on the sunnier side,
I like life like my OJ
straight off the vine
ripe
in intricacies and taste-but-not-tell-imperfections
sublime.
A game to read
between the lines that chime in your head
I am
vintage songs you but started collecting
new and familiar
like the drive ahead
full of down-windows-hair
where I hold the keys to the vibe and we’re
fine fellowed friends that jive
to the sound of no cares.
Day to day we gather earnings
pennied learnings
mountains steeping in wishing
wells where we pretend to not play
our selves undeserving
of the breakfast together where we break
fast in ifs and whethers
wondering in this day and age
if the climate change is better.
The truth be not told,
what’s left unsaid is still known.
rate this poem:
HJRT Obitury
We played together as boys, that engine called “Fred”
His years were older than me
We were going to construct an amazing Go Kart
His dreams were older then me
The moonlight sonata on the piano he played so well
His talent was older than me
The next school was far away from all of us friends
His pains were older then me
Eighteen was the age he scrubbed out his own breath
His life is still older than me
rate this poem:
(2 votes, average poem rating: 3.5 out of 5)
JS - Of Death and Friendship
I never knew him.
But, strangely, I was moved to tears by his story.
A story of untimely death and of enduring friendship.
Unspeakable. I still cannot speak it.
And so I write it here.
He was eighteen. Just left school.
His life before him. A book unwritten.
That Summer, after exams
Travelling with his friend in Greece
A virus laid him low. So strong
Within hours he died.
His school friend by his side.
His body was flown home
To a family
Silenced by grief.
September came.
Life resumed at his historic public school.
Amongst the old stone and autumnal gold
Men and boys stood shocked into silence.
A memorial service in the Cathedral.
No empty seats.
No dry eyes.
And dominating the nave
A huge, enormous, photograph of him
Smiling, tousled and muddy after a game of football.
A hand resting on his shoulder.
Silence fell. His friend spoke.
He told of his regret
That he would walk no more with his friend.
That they would not be there for each other
To share life and all it had for them.
He said there had been talk
Of airbrushing out the hand
That rested on the shoulder in the photograph.
But he was glad they had not done so
As it was his hand
And he felt that in some way
If his hand stayed there
They would remain connected.
In the War Cloister at the College
Carved in immortal stone
Too many to count
The names of other young men who left the school
Their lives before them
Who died too young
In foreign lands
Their friends beside them.
Unspeakable loss.
Their hands on our shoulders.
rate this poem:
(2 votes, average poem rating: 5 out of 5)
Happiness
As I close my eyes I hear the sea
With the wind, and the waves crashing in a sweet rhythm
The stars above my head bring me peace I have never known
While the sand beneath my feet tempts me to fall into dreams
Ah if only the moon could out shine the sun for a day
And instead of watching a sunrise, I could lay in the cool night air for as long as I desired
Only her body heat, and a slim blanket keeping me warm
Happiness, it seems, is a fickle, but welcome friend
rate this poem:
Anticipation
Oh the sweet feeling of anticipation
Sometimes it could drive a person mad, but in other cases it can save a person from succumbing to madness
I believe I am somewhere in the middle
One second crazy, and another sane
I guess repetition will do that to a person
As for this very moment I am very much at peace
Enjoying the freedom of summer when at all possible, and thinking of the freshly-made memories the rest of the time
But what about five minutes from now
Only time will tell I suppose, and I guess I should learn to be patient with such matters
Love, or lack of it, seems to be my main reason for the ups and downs
But if I can’t find it maybe its a sign not to look
I will need to keep that in mind
Ah “Do not sex to this” just came up on my Ipod
A sarcastic laugh escapes my lips when I can’t help but see the irony in the situation
Sex or love? Hmm…
Wolf or sheep would be a more accurate description of my current internal battle
Even now I wonder which animal I will emulate
I really should stop thinking so much
rate this poem:
(1 votes, average poem rating: 4 out of 5)
Optimism
I’m not saying I will, but I’m not saying I won’t
The funny thing about love is, it’s possible to love someone with all of your being, and not have that love returned
What a cruel idea that is
It’s a risk, loving someone, but something worth risking
And heart-break is sure to stem from failed love, but so is happiness
We are led to believe that life isn’t fair, and I’d say that is generally the case, but not with love
Because the heart-wrenching pain IS worth the eventual bliss
Yes, only through the pain can we really appreciate our own “love climax”
Of course, for a person like me all you have is assumptions
I could very well be wrong
That’s why for now I will sit back, and patiently watch for my robotic heart to start pumping
Optimistic as always optimism
rate this poem:
(2 votes, average poem rating: 4 out of 5)
Beauty in Death
Oh, my love, I didn’t think there were tears left
My smile, used up and dimmed
You’ve got it to play again one last time.
Tired of fighting, tired of waking to sleep
I’m content for now
To lie here with you, but my grip is slipping
So don’t, please don’t cry
For in a love like yours, I don’t know pain
It feels so easy right now, sliding into
the warmth.
Peace, like angel’s feathers
It was unattainable, forever translucent and ephemeral
It slid through my hands like sand
This is no goodbye, I’m too tired for sadness
I think you taught me love
Through you, I learned acceptance.
I am swiftly fading now
There are memories, that drop like stones in a well
dimming into the darkness
But dearest, I’m not afraid
You hold my hand.
rate this poem:
(2 votes, average poem rating: 3 out of 5)
Thank you dear Mother
I cried.
I bled and I was afraid.
I felt hatred and deep sadness.
I was confused and lost.
No one who was supposed to be there, was.
You just were not there.
Thank you for fracturing my life, and damaging my mind.
When I wake up from nightmares that feature my father’s voice
screaming
I can thank you.
When I think about being beaten for forgetting a toothbrush
on the sink
I can thank you.
But more importantly.
When I sit alone in my room and everything is quiet
And inside I can feel all that pain, still fresh and strong
I can thank you.
You left me, and came back. You took me into a home where
because I was damaged
I wasn’t good enough.
Thank you.
I don’t owe you anything, not anymore.
You gave me life, but you took that gift
and with your own selfishness
destroyed the little boy you loved.
Thank you.
When you wake up, alone in 50 years…
You’ll be able to thank me.
rate this poem:
(3 votes, average poem rating: 5 out of 5)