Poems of Form and Duality

Created: August 8, 2020

Take it for what you want. There is ultimately very little meaning to life, we only try to find some in the suffering. Perhaps my meaning is to express it in art form.

Love Poem

Love is at the mercy of form,
Without, may as not be real.
Form is merciless,
At its peak and as it degrades.
Love is a chemical delusion,
That is dependent on others,
To keep the chemicals flowing.
Love is loyalty and trust,
Devotion and passion.
Skewed by lack,
And absenteeism in,
A complex world.
Love is a great tree,
Of family and positivity,
That casts a great shadow,
Of solitude and negativity.
Love will make you believe,
You can overcome anything,
With no regard to consequences.
Love is persistent,
As an unfulfilled need,
For connection,
Or a determined suffering,
To unsuccessfully fill the need.
Love is manifested,
As a child form,
Used to give meaning,
Justification, and hope.
Love is a mother,
Feeding and nurturing,
Dependent and confined.
Love is a clan,
Beating all odds,
Until you grow out,
With interfering needs.
Love is dead,
And with it the insanity,
Like god was declared as such,
In 1882 by a madman.
Love is greater than,
The singular,
Universally and unconditionally,
Free as part of the same,
Not some thing you can understand.

Hate Poem

I hate the vastness,
Of the horribly horrific machine,
And its cold cruelty,
Toward the soul.
I hate their popularity,
And their opinions,
I hate their identities,
And their actions.
I hate how they steal,
And push with a smile,
And act like it is deserved.
I hate that there is no respite,
When you are down, or wounded,
In an advanced society,
That does more wounding than growing.
I hate they believe,
That there is help for us,
When it is only good at,
Helping them.
I hate how they pretend,
Things I say matter,
When they do not.
I hate the temporary nature,
Of the conscious self,
And the seemingly irrelevant nature,
Of the unconscious self.
I hate playing the game,
Receiving rejection and problems,
Without acceptance or meaning,
And their demand of separateness.
I hate their filtered perception,
And irrational value system,
Of escapism through black,
And white ideals.
I hate how I need a friend,
When all they do,
Is bloody Caesar like family,
With a stab in the back.
I hate how they feel the need,
To protect others from my dilemma,
Until the proverbial but false,
Closet is opened for god.
I hate you,
And you hate me,
Ain't it fun,
Like a big purple people eating dinosaur.

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