Because I created an assignment for the members of my poetry workshop, I am now caught up in a cycle of writing poems of love and hate, hate and love. Here is another hate poem.
Out of Hate
As children wrapped in alien natures
dirt in mouth and rocks falling out of the sky
the witch held us the imp pinched us
so rarely were we full and dry.
At hand’s screech our mammalian bones
shook and froze and beat at the brain
spring raged and flooded our homes
we killed to live and wore the stain.
Post-sin and pre-flood in this bad heaven
in groveling exile as arctic as blame
Lucy and Lucifer our two-headed Satan
crept into bed with us making claim.
My innocent mind-inflamed heart
hated the princely powers left
in charage of earth pursuing the dark art
of a little order at a little expense.
The webs the mudslides the dense woods
chill and fear of not being found again
kept my feet in shoes on roads
righteous fist raised against brown life.
Caught yes we were in rich detritus
in flapping scuffle of disordered din
the beating valves yes the counting poet
caught in the storm seeking the inn.
All that time spent in bed not sleeping
sounds of hounds and hunting and prey
fleeing often into sharp maw or trap
despising the thought that we were they.
Comes the halfway point of day’s labor
comes the snow of blanketed surrender
threatens now the parched tongue of noon
I should lie still and give up all remembering.
Aching from running from who knows what
a world of hate eats at all our skins
warriors with no reason burn our huts
and systematic thought of why begins.
Because we can do better than the faulty
demigods and kings who whipped our backs
because fresh water washes out the salty
fear we are just purposeless artifacts.