Indeed, Indeed I Cannot Tell

Indeed indeed, I cannot tell, Though I ponder on it well, Which were easier to state, All my love or all my hate. Surely, surely, thou wilt trust me When I say thou dost disgust me. O, I hate thee with a hate That would fain annihilate; Yet sometimes against my will, My dear friend, I love thee still.

Alas! This Is Not What I Thought Life Was

Alas! this is not what I thought life was. I knew that there were crimes and evil men, Misery and hate; nor did I hope to pass Untouched by suffering, through the rugged glen. In mine own heart I saw as in a glass The hearts of others ... And when I went among my kind, with triple brass Of calm endurance my weak breast I armed, To bear scorn, fear, and hate, a woful mass!

The Weight Of Love (Love Love Love Love)

I once was asked concerning love versus hate Why does it seem that hate is so great? While hate is a very strong emotion too Nothing can equal love that is true The weight of hate is very heavy to bear While it seems like love is lighter than air Accounts of hate make a big news headline While actions of love you must look hard to find

Sonnet 145: Those Lips That Love's Own Hand Did Make

Those lips that Love's own hand did make Breathed forth the sound that said "I hate" To me that languished for her sake; But when she saw my woeful state, Straight in her heart did mercy come, Chiding that tongue that ever sweet Was used in giving gentle doom, And taught it thus anew to greet: "I hate" she altered with an end, That followed it as gentle day

Bouquet Of Words

Don't ask me what is friend? What is love? Where it lies in? Well definition, most of us confused With the sweet of love juice As love has chain to fuse Grab this love that i lend Love is not only for a lover Love also made for a friend and great love for God Beautiful loves are broad

Symptom Recital

I do not like my state of mind; I'm bitter, querulous, unkind. I hate my legs, I hate my hands, I do not yearn for lovelier lands. I dread the dawn's recurrent light; I hate to go to bed at night. I snoot at simple, earnest folk. I cannot take the gentlest joke. I find no peace in paint or type. My world is but a lot of tripe.

Sonnet 142: Love Is My Sin, And Thy Dear Virtue Hate

Love is my sin, and thy dear virtue hate, Hate of my sin, grounded on sinful loving, O, but with mine, compare thou thine own state, And thou shalt find it merits not reproving, Or if it do, not from those lips of thine That have profaned their scarlet ornaments And sealed false bonds of love as oft as mine, Robbed others' beds' revenues of their rents. Be it lawful I love thee as thou lov'st those Whom thine eyes woo as mine importune thee.

A Better Place

Let us love this world and put it in a better shape than hate, Let us share true love with one another to make the world go round; For our negative actions will surely lead us to fights and wars, But true love from us all will make the world a better place.

No Room For Hate

I went to a house and walked up to the gate A man came outside and his name was called Hate He asked me a question would you like to come in? I then thought for a moment hate is no kin He then wanted to know what do you think of me? I said in reply I still have no need of thee Hate stood for a moment and began to shake his head Maybe I'll try and ask for his soul instead

Sonnet 10: For Shame, Deny That Thou Bear'st Love To Any

For shame, deny that thou bear'st love to any Who for thy self art so unprovident. Grant, if thou wilt, thou art beloved of many, But that thou none lov'st is most evident; For thou art so possessed with murd'rous hate, That 'gainst thy self thou stick'st not to conspire, Seeking that beauteous roof to ruinate Which to repair should be thy chief desire. O, change thy thought, that I may change my mind! Shall hate be fairer lodged than gentle love?

The Good Man In Hell

If a good man were ever housed in Hell By needful error of the qualities, Perhaps to prove the rule or shame the devil, Or speak the truth only a stranger sees, Would he, surrendering quick to obvious hate, Fill half eternity with cries and tears, Or watch beside Hell's little wicket gate In patience for the first ten thousand years,

Love The Wild Swan

"I hate my verses, every line, every word. Oh pale and brittle pencils ever to try One grass-blade's curve, or the throat of one bird That clings to twig, ruffled against white sky. Oh cracked and twilight mirrors ever to catch One color, one glinting Hash, of the splendor of things. Unlucky hunter, Oh bullets of wax, The lion beauty, the wild-swan wings, the storm of the wings." --This wild swan of a world is no hunter's game.

Blight

Hard seeds of hate I planted That should by now be grown,— Rough stalks, and from thick stamens A poisonous pollen blown, And odors rank, unbreathable, From dark corollas thrown! At dawn from my damp garden I shook the chilly dew; The thin boughs locked behind me

The White City

I will not toy with it nor bend an inch. Deep in the secret chambers of my heart I muse my life-long hate, and without flinch I bear it nobly as I live my part. My being would be a skeleton, a shell, If this dark Passion that fills my every mood, And makes my heaven in the white world's hell, Did not forever feed me vital blood. I see the mighty city through a mist-- The strident trains that speed the goaded mass,

Love Turned To Hatred

I will not love one minute more, I swear! No, not a minute! Not a sigh or tear Thou gett'st from me, or one kind look again, Though thou shouldst court me to 't, and wouldst begin. I will not think of thee but as men do Of debts and sins; and then I'll curse thee too. For thy sake woman shall be now to me Less welcome than at midnight ghosts shall be. I'll hate so perfectly that it shall be Treason to love that man that loves a she.

I Hate It

I hate how I loved you I hate how I felt I hate everything you said That made my heart melt I hate what you did I hate how I hurt I hate how you left me Alone to die in the dirt

The Prohibition

Take heed of loving me, At least remember, I forbade it thee; Not that I shall repair my unthrifty waste Of breath and blood, upon thy sighs, and tears, By being to thee then what to me thou wast; But, so great joy, our life at once outwears, Then, lest thy love, by my death, frustrate be, If thou love me, take heed of loving me. Take heed of hating me,

Vitae Summa Brevis Spem Nos Vetat Incohare Longam

They are not long, the weeping and the laughter, Love and desire and hate: I think they have no portion in us after We pass the gate. They are not long, the days of wine and roses: Out of a misty dream Our path emerges for a while, then closes Within a dream.

Poem (Hate Is Only One Of Many Responses)

Hate is only one of many responses true, hurt and hate go hand in hand but why be afraid of hate, it is only there think of filth, is it really awesome neither is hate don't be shy of unkindness, either it's cleansing and allows you to be direct like an arrow that feels something out and out meanness, too, lets love breathe

But Most Of All...

I hate that you changed. I hate that you’re the same. I hate that you left. I hate how you’ve stayed. I hate how I cry. I hate how you make me smile. I hate how I miss you. I hate how I feel. I hate how it hurts. I hate that it’s my fault.