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Click here1.
Fucking
Loving
and Hating
Three is a magic number.
One tear running
down the side of my face
freezing
and falling
into a sea
of diamonds
Words can seize thoughts
unspoken
dreams and desires
making the unknown implicit
and the implicit explicit
A poet may ask
"Can hate ever be sexy?"
Can that hatred and sexuality
be captured in words?
in
Short poems
like a sideways glance
or in
Epic poems
like staring at clouds
Stories of love.
Love turned.
Turned to hate.
The worst
kind of love
But hate is so petty
So weak
so small
childish and petulant
Only the worst
could find refuge in it
A pillow of stone
for an unquiet sleep
But love…
Love bends time
and moves mountains
Love is the moon
the sun
the sky
AND the stars
Love takes the world
and covers it
in a glittering blanket
You cannot control the Matrix
with a heart full of loathing
To give in to the forces of hate
is giving in to the dark side of the Force
With great power
comes great responsibility
But we chew our pen caps
and tap out our letters
Dashing off e mail
and drafting on Word
Wondering
Can hate ever be sexy?
Illuminated shadows
still moving
flickering onscreen
2.
I would cross
desert and sea
mountains and valleys
to bring you
a ring
I would travel around the edges
of the walls
built around you
hopelessly questing
to find a way
inside
your heart
I would try and find
endless rhyme
that could make you mine
until the end of time
I would have to invent a new language
because there are none
that have words
to describe how I feel for you.
So:
When you tell me
you are planning on living
your life alone
It is like an arrow
piercing into my heart.
When you say
you are a cynic
about love
It makes me wonder if love
is a fairytale worth believing in.
And when you write me
in a dashed off e mail
you just got the new
"Lord Of The Rings"
on DVD
and you’ve watched it
half a dozen times
I chew my pen
I draft on Word
and think
that
you’d rather watch
imaginary creatures
on a fantasy quest
than be with
a real person
who would want to cross
heaven
and earth
to be
with you
someone
who would sacrifice
their life
to bring you
a ring.
3.
Can hate be sexy?
Making love to you
would be like
my soul
flying
into the sky
the thought of loving you
would be pink
and pale
and soft
and warm
But the memory of making love to you
would turn rancid
and bitter
the thought of having made love to you
would be gray
and dark
and hard
and cold
because I’ll never
be yours forever.
You adore heroes
as long as they’re fictional.
You adore poems
as long as they’re not written for you.
The only ring you want
is in the movies
or in a book
or in the imagination
of a man
long dead.
So:
If you ever would ask me
"Did you see the new 'Lord Of The Rings' movie?"
I’ll say "No."
But I’ll be thinking
"Fuck the ‘Lord Of The Rings.'"
That’s right.
Love has turned to hate
and it’s not sexy at all
Fuck the Lord Of The Rings,
and fuck YOU.