Flaunting Hatred

Flaunting Hatred.jpg

Poem was inspired by a fabulous artist and a poem choice for his art.  I’ve just recently began following.   Please go and see the work of Anthony Grootelaar.  The picture is unrelated.

I begged him to love me,
but not for nought
as music played in the draught
of what I sought.
I scoffed his imperfections
liaised with wit
when laughter ran unescorted
on a matter of mutual concern,
and yet, through his brutal demeanour,
tenderness rose
befitting the night.
Perchance I could love better –
but only after death.

FEASTS OF GRIEF

Dorna has some unique pieces on her blog and it would be great if you could go see.

madasahatter572

Wretched, a remnant of before
you left me
What do I care for your name?
Why shout it?
Should I bother with tears?
Or as many as you said my name
to equal the number
Why should I give
a damn now about yours?
You were dying
when you were lying
Now you are dead.

I am here living,
or at the very least standing –
breathing low before
your marred headstone,
watching nature at her best;
her nocturnal creatures draw close
towards your grave.

In my mind they feast
but sour memories and grief
make them unmentionable fiends –
that wanted to make a macabre feast
of your bloated body,
and I let them – brittle bones now
rattle in the dust,
still all I can see is anger.
I hate you right now.
You are dead
where all the dead are at long last
at peace.
Laughing to…

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