The Hated One

This is how it is.

Consider me, the hated one

The foe that you unceasingly must vanquish

Constructed out of stories half-heard long ago
And many what-you-read-somewheres
Defended only by the ineffectual and immoral —

I, and my people, stand accused

Of many things, but most frequently,
Of hating

You gorge yourself almost daily on
Your tribal diet of diatribes
Against the likes of me

But you have had personal experience of my kind, you say:
I disagreed with you
I live differently
And expect you to allow me to continue to do so;
This you cannot, will not do

Because this is how it is:
In your quiet life, you have known humility;
To struggle, to fail, to get back up —
But in the life of me and my people
There is always superiority on your side

You *just know* I’m wrong —

That I think what we think,
That I live how we live
Is a manifest sign of my lovelessness:
For the sheer effrontery we indulge in everyday
In not thinking of you

Yet, you do not know me –
You burn straw men and straw women every day,
And call them me

And when you can, you burn the real me

But, because you love your own,
You cannot be loveless;
Because you do not know me or mine,
You say we are

I know these words will not assuage you,
You will not think they apply to you —

And you will never know that what you cannot forgive
Is not our differences

But what is alike between us

I will continue always to be,

Your hated one

the color, swirling

“… the mass-produced hysteria of violence …”

the color, swirling: chaos as an infant –
the mass-produced hysteria of violence —
abaft the swarth of what’s gone in an instant,
we stand astride – aside? – and keep our silence

as fairylands go dark, or grow more distant.
we give ourselves, in joy, as cannon fodder:
the color, swirling, more blood in the water

A Common Ground

We cannot find a common ground
To share a point of view,
For I stand here, in judgment, of
The things that make you, you

And you are there, entombed within
That fort of your devising;
That there’s no common ground for us
Just isn’t that surprising

But there’s a universal truth
In all strife to be found:
Our hatreds go with us to graves
Beneath a common

Hills of Envy

Something I can’t find…

Hills of Envy

Looking over every crest
For something I can’t find

Spiteful reasons coalesce
This oxidizing mind

Not a touch of reaching Fall
My soul so cancerous

There’s no beauty nor light at all
Can soothe this animus

For those who have what I don’t have
It’s hard to overrate

The wound there is, that has no salve
From my

Dead Ends

“Hate” went viral years ago…

“Hate” went viral years ago
It’s never really stopped:
It’s only sometimes conscious,
Those that knowingly adopt

We take it in like we do air,
Or maybe, more like smoke:
We breathe it in and breathe it out
Till finally we choke

The soot of trolls and cowards
Fills the air like foul disease:
There’s scant hope for humanity
Inhaling such as these

And yet it’s no surprise,
It’s always been that way, my friends;
So many human lives are cursed
And damnable
Dead ends