Tag: hate

Butterflies – A Quadrille


Ugliness lives
in an anger-filled world
careening out of control
Violence and hatred rule
in the name of rights
minus responsibilities

Butterflies live
and flutter in silence
The delicate beauty
of the moment
touching senses
with colorful vision
and gentleness

Imagination captured
Escape secured

Copyright © 2021 Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing
All Rights Reserved

Lillian is hosting Monday Quadrille at D'Verse Poets
She has prompted us with the word "Careen"

A Quadrille is a poem of exactly 44 words minus the title

Photo by __ drz __ on Unsplash

Love and Hate – The Flip Side

Hate the Opposite of Love

Because of me, in the valley of death
You die slowly like the petrified trees
I remember how you looked
How your face would contort in pain
When I angrily screamed at you
Because of me, you despise the chaos
of the city
the faceless crowds hurrying to their
I remember your silence, your piecing stare
from those unforgettable eyes
Unlike the scent of blossoms
Your memory of me is ugly
A weeping sore that will never heal
Untouchable as a leper
My words can still sting
Like a thousand angry bees poked from their nest
You will always remember the hurt
But my face will be obliterated from your memory
Because of me, the stench of swamp water
is ever present
Because of me, you will never search
for love again:
shooting stars and falling objects will kill you

Copyright © 2021 Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing
All Rights Reserved

Written for D'Verse Poets my poem HATE is written as the flip side of Pablo Neruda's poem LOVE (see below)

LOVE by Pablo Neruda

Because of you, in gardens of blossoming flowers 
I ache from the perfumes of spring. 

I have forgotten your face, 
I no longer remember your hands; 
how did your lips feel on mine? 

Because of you, I love the white statues drowsing in the parks 
the white statues that have neither voice nor sight. 

I have forgotten your voice, your happy voice; 
I have forgotten your eyes. 

Like a flower to its perfume, 
I am bound to my vague memory of you. 
I live with pain that is like a wound; 
if you touch me, you will do me irreparable harm. 

Your caresses enfold me, 
like climbing vines on melancholy walls. 
I have forgotten your love, 
yet I seem to glimpse you in every window. 

Because of you, the heady perfumes of summer pain me; 
because of you, I again seek out the signs that precipitates desires: 
shooting stars and falling objects. 

Lisa from Tao Talk is hosting D'Verse Poets tonight and has prompted us
with Flipping the meanings of poems.  I chose one of Pablo Neruda' beautiful
love poems and wrote the opposite. 

Image by Harsh Vardhan Art from Pixabay 
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