A little over two years ago, when my account was still new, I posted one of my older poems.
listen originally received 7 votes and .11 payout. I'd like to try releasing it again, as the theme seems particularly relevant for me at this time. This piece attempts to grasp the nature of the word "hate', which to me does not always equal the same thing that it suggests to others.
..
hate is a relative thing
a degree of disinterest - distance and mistrust
a maddened dog digging holes
searching for what was lost
..
pain comes between us with awkward silence
an unwilling taste lingering on the edge of tongues
ready to spit as stagnant water plies its trade
..
something deemed unworthy vying to appear vital
will believe any promise of love
to escape an unnatural mold
..
..
we talk in jilted tongues trading bitter fruit for flesh
a weed spreads with spurious roots
burrowing into memory
leaching the soul bare of bone
..
wounds remind us to heal with a voice like a child trying to be heard
so many stories of war numb us to the masks of reality
..
where is your bloodied uniform
your shattered limb
your toothless smile with deadened eyes
..
we become immune to the battle within
when there is no wound to be seen without
..
an estrangement between strangers
who have forgotten how to love
..
..
and when we no longer
talk
we forget to listen
to the sound of each vagrant song struggling to be heard
..
who will heal the bittersweet flower
as it sings to an empty sky devoid of rain
..
love will survive
if we walk the path along which it grows
speak gently to the wind
