There is not enough hate in the world.

Can hate be sexy?



I Hate You

there are strong words
but I hate you
your intent
the way I think you look
and the way you don't look
I hate you
so it is not important
just because
you are wordy
you are airy
you are big and I am
not as big

it is simple
I simply hate you
there are grenades
between my teeth
and dwelling in my gums
between ass cheek
tip of nose
between knees,
just for you
and your expansion

I hate you

-rude switch-
please forgive me
let me back
into your folds
your canoe
be your paddle partner
in blue and green
pleading

Hate and love are both powerful emotions, and I think one can quickly replace the other.
Is hate sexy? This makes me think about some movies I've seen over the years where a man and woman are arguing and saying that they hate each other, then suddenly they're ripping each other's clothes off. lol

Love/Hate

Yeah, whenever you see a male and female character in a movie who are at each other's throats and constantly fighting, you know pretty soon they'll be lovers! I don't know how often it happens in real life, though; probably not that often. I suppose it captures the antagonistic yet drawn together, ambivalent, love/hate nature of relationships between men and women in general.

Hateful Little Poem

I hate your hair
You hate my attitude
I hate your friends
You hate my mom
I don't really hate your eyes
You know you like my lips
I love that thing you do
Don't you adore me?

My thoughts on hate

I still haven't worked out whether I agree that hate can be sexy (um actually probably yes, it can turn and then sometimes turn again), but thinking about hate brought these memories bubbling up. Thanks for the inspiration, Smithpeter. I've been needing to say this for years.

Neal

Although I'll be the first to say
that pacifistic is the way to be,
and--dang--I’d protest any war,
and violence is really so not me,
I do confess there is one issue
on the hate thing that I must address.
Not that I hate just anyone, you see:
I do despise the sea of vast and murky
generality in which we swim and
I am loud in my protest of unfair treatment
of any group and even want the wrongs
against the whales and such redressed.
Ok. I’m beating round the bush; I’ll say it
spit it out, admit it, tell the tale right here.
I now this truth to all the world reveal:
I really hate my cousin Neal.

So ok hate's a damn strong word and I don't
mean to sound so wacky and absurdly focused
on some kid who's now a man and whom,
in spite of the desire of my id to murder
right now on the spot, I haven't even seen,
have not for many many years, and it is
equally as many since I cried the bitter tears
that came each year when being told on turkey day
again I wasn’t old enough to stay with the adults,
but had to sit at the kid table next to Neal,
which meant I suffered the ordeal of watching
as he mooshed his food together on his plate
and tried hard not to look at all the squishy icky
stuff chewed up and hangin in his mouth
cause he would never close it when he ate.

And then that awful early summer's day,
the last of grade 3, walking home I looked
and saw two figures walking on their way
to me--my mother and HIM--the antichrist
of cousins and heard my mother's insincerely
happy voice inform that HE had come to stay
for two whole weeks and I would have to move
my junk out of my room so HE could have some
space and use the bottom bunk and it was bad
cause every night he kicked my mattress from
the bottom jolting me awake until I got so mad
that I jumped down and put my pillow on his head!
And…oh. You think I killed him? Think Neal’s dead?
Nah. I only scared him, just enough until he fled
and bothered me no more, but the point is that
hate is one bad sore affliction to almost make me
on that night make old Neal meet his fate.
(Although, in retrospect I have to say that
God almighty doing that felt great.)


I’m ok now. I really am. I’m grown and I have
children of my own and live each day with patience
and have learned the art of compromise and do
believe that I can recognize the difference between
those ancient angry thoughts inside my head and
what is real, but listen keep this to yourself ok?
But damn denial: I hate my cousin Neal.

Angeline

my Gawd, what a vent!!
I have decided to hate your cousin too.

I hate Neal

He's in his forties now

I wonder if he chews with his mouth shut yet? And he's easy to hate because everyone has a Neal or two tucked away somewhere in distant memory.

(and I'm giggling madly at the thought of Neal as the iconic poster child for hated relative of your past)

Brilliant!

Re; Angeline's Neal Poem

Wow! Excellent poem! I should send it to this guy I work with named Neal. (I sure hope it's not the same one!!!)

Hmm, is hate sexy? I will have to write a poem about it and see.

F AND F

All we used to do
was fight and fuck
argue and fondle
sweat on each other
and end the night
in tears on the stairs

Five years and Five months
before I had a fond memory of our friendship.

I hate it that I love you.




hmm... (checks pants)

Nope. Not sexy.

Re: Brilliant!

Star At Sunrise said:

F AND F

All we used to do
was fight and fuck
argue and fondle
sweat on each other
and end the night
in tears on the stairs

Five years and Five months
before I had a fond memory of our friendship.

I hate it that I love you.

Click to expand...

but is hate sexy and/or funny?
it is hard to find a difference sometimes.
for me.
humor and sex, violence, cheerleaders and the foot balls.
cheery days, dark nights

I hated the way she
talked
sat
walked
acted

her
annoying
grating
humorless personality
was
bitch personified

I hated her.

I wanted her.

evil so evil that it must be good.

Hate can be sexy.

O.T.

P.S. (she's now probably married to Neal)

Y'know OT?

They probably deserve each other.

Re: Re: Brilliant!

smithpeter said:

but is hate sexy and/or funny?
it is hard to find a difference sometimes.
for me.
humor and sex, violence, cheerleaders and the foot balls.
cheery days, dark nights

Click to expand...

Hmm, good point. Hate certainly can be funny, and sex can be very funny, so it should be possible to link them, but sex without some sorta love just seems sad to me. Maybe that's just me, 'cause I think there's nothing that can't be joked about except for John Ashcroft. Hmmm...

There once was a cousin named Neal
Who wanted John Ashcroft to heel...

Hmmm...

Neal with phone sex was treated,
With John Ashcroft the conversation was heated,
John said "Wait, before you go,
"there's one thing I want you to know...
[THE REST OF THIS LIMERICK DELETED]

Dammit, this poetry shit is hard! How do youse guys do it?

I saw this as a challenge to take up. It is all fiction.

Sexy Hate

With each button
she pushed
revealing with her deft little fingers
more of her thrusted chest
commanding my attention

She thought I’d wait
for her pleasure
to be revealed
but I pushed
her back
down

Pull, grasp, gasp,
smiles,
hers against a pillow
mine at her skirt
tearing free
tossed aside

As I was

Lifting up
again
the feel of control
now it is I who push
thrust
beat
with each
fist
into her.

HomerPindar

Lauren.Hynde said:

I hate Neal

Click to expand...

Boy, im not her cousin but gawwwwwwwwwwwd ya'all make me feel awful _Neal

love and hate

You and I

Hurt me
I Know you want to
Torment me
That's what you're here to do
Abuse me
You seem to think it's right
Isolate me
You'll only come crying tonight

Admire you
It occupies my time
Love you
I swear it's a crime
Hold you
I'd love to all day
Need you
But you push me away


I'm gonna have to say not sexy.

*how damaged*

hateful words spat
in hateful curses
lips pursed, yet the pulsing
in her throat, emotes more

the similar unrestrained voice
of high delight, as I smash
her against the wall, hammer
blows, trying to punch her pelvis
through the surface of anything
we happen to be pinned against

biting, clawing feral needs,
like two cats in heat,
spit on me, I smear it in
as devils lube,

tumultuous we were,
razor keen aggression
stalking on the surface
not knowing wether it would
be fists flying,
or pierced flesh crying

how I hated you, how I craved
your hate for me

plumbing the boneyards, tod?

twelveoone said:

plumbing the boneyards, tod?

Click to expand...

always wandering around back there, a lot of interesting reading, a lot of parsing on poetry in general and this reminded me of a partner I had, crazy good sex, but crazy everything else too

you may not think so but good to see you again.

todski28 said:

always wandering around back there, a lot of interesting reading, a lot of parsing on poetry in general and this reminded me of a partner I had, crazy good sex, but crazy everything else too

you may not think so but good to see you again.

Click to expand...

no. good to remember WickedEve.
smithpeter had died just as I arrived.
coincidence.
interesting to notice the trends in almost ten years.
and it is an interesting question.

but good to see you parsing the poetry, as for me plumbing the boneyards just reminds me of what a corpse I've become.

twelveoone said:

no. good to remember WickedEve.
smithpeter had died just as I arrived.
coincidence.
interesting to notice the trends in almost ten years.
and it is an interesting question.

but good to see you parsing the poetry, as for me plumbing the boneyards just reminds me of what a corpse I've become.

Click to expand...

When I first got here I didn't understand her poems in the slightest, it was like trying to read mandarin through a German filter, whilst running backwards on a treadmill. It was way too hard, hurt my brain, however I am starting to understand more the conveyance of imagery, the things not said so that I can say them myself, such a long education, however I am still enjoying the journey.

10,000 things well that just makes so much more sense now than it ever did the first time you recited it.

a corpse maybe but an animated mind you still have

todski28 said:

When I first got here I didn't understand her poems in the slightest, it was like trying to read mandarin through a German filter, whilst running backwards on a treadmill. It was way too hard, hurt my brain, however I am starting to understand more the conveyance of imagery, the things not said so that I can say them myself, such a long education, however I am still enjoying the journey.

10,000 things well that just makes so much more sense now than it ever did the first time you recited it.

a corpse maybe but an animated mind you still have

Click to expand...

you are getting it. poetry is based on patterns, the poetry is not the pattern, but rather lies in the interruption or the interference of patterns, this is fairly standard, to understand WickedEve it helps to understand how 3D optical illusions work, Eve (and anna) would present two things at once and you would catch and synthesize parts of it, thinking you are getting it (you see it) and then it is not there again.
WickedEve and annaswirls could show you things in the front that were almost pandering, however off to side or right beneath was a whole 'nother story, the pointers were often in the asides, or in slightly off word choice. Both of these women were pit bulls with words, once they had you, they had you. Next time you plow though the bone yard, see if you can find Interact #2; annaswirls is using a comedy strategy for non funny material, Eve often uses comedic tactics for the same purpose, Eve uses some of the ploys Richard Pryor used. You can google and Youtube. I caught some flack in the past for describing them as deceptive, meaning what they were showing was a whole 'nother world. They are not like anything I've ever seen before, it is not the diamond but the facets cut, and these two were brilliant.
I never reached the end before they did, they would have me trapped by the middle shaking my head.
for what it's worth, it took years.

twelveoone said:

you are getting it. poetry is based on patterns, the poetry is not the pattern, but rather lies in the interruption or the interference of patterns, this is fairly standard, to understand WickedEve it helps to understand how 3D optical illusions work, Eve (and anna) would present two things at once and you would catch and synthesize parts of it, thinking you are getting it (you see it) and then it is not there again.
WickedEve and annaswirls could show you things in the front that were almost pandering, however off to side or right beneath was a whole 'nother story, the pointers were often in the asides, or in slightly off word choice. Both of these women were pit bulls with words, once they had you, they had you. Next time you plow though the bone yard, see if you can find Interact #2; annaswirls is using a comedy strategy for non funny material, Eve often uses comedic tactics for the same purpose, Eve uses some of the ploys Richard Pryor used. You can google and Youtube. I caught some flack in the past for describing them as deceptive, meaning what they were showing was a whole 'nother world. They are not like anything I've ever seen before, it is not the diamond but the facets cut, and these two were brilliant.
I never reached the end before they did, they would have me trapped by the middle shaking my head.
for what it's worth, it took years.

Click to expand...

I have figured out it is going to take years, but what journey

I remember that moment
whispering in angered
frustration,

chasing you had worn me down
hollowed out my charm,
turned my wit to shit,
I was nothing when you were
around,

a pandering pussy
a man who'd left his
testicles at home
gone to roam
with no
testosterone,

you cried away from physicality
but led me on for the fun of it
to have this eunuch follow you
what a gas,

when I started to hate you
I gave up the pretence
found my balls in a bag
you chased me

we ran round and round
playing chasey
neither wanted to be the winner
coz we both doubted the prize,

In that moment a whispered
snap,
"I hope you find a man you love
that doesn't love you back"

little did I know that it would be me.

todski28 said:

I remember that moment
whispering in angered
frustration,

chasing you had worn me down
hollowed out my charm,
turned my wit to shit,
I was nothing when you were
around,

a pandering pussy
a man who'd left his
testicles at home
gone to roam
with no
testosterone,

you cried away from physicality
but led me on for the fun of it
to have this eunuch follow you
what a gas,

when I started to hate you
I gave up the pretence
found my balls in a bag
you chased me

we ran round and round
playing chasey
neither wanted to be the winner
coz we both doubted the prize,

In that moment a whispered
snap,
"I hope you find a man you love
that doesn't love you back"

little did I know that it would be me.

Click to expand...

these bits are especially strong, the last line delivered unexpectedly, creating a real turn at the end. enjoyed this.