The Ugliness of Love

Discussion in 'Poet's Corner' started by Youlleatamuffinandlikeit, Nov 6, 2011.

Thread Status:
Not open for further replies.
  1. Youlleatamuffinandlikeit

    Youlleatamuffinandlikeit Well-Known Member

    The Ugliness of Love

    If the face I wear be a mask
    It’s one most idiot’s cannot grasp
    There is such a thing as a greater mast
    From a flag that flies
    A hated emblem of the past
    I am the truth beneath the heat
    I am the fury fire’s leech
    You cannot begin what you cannot seek
    Of wasted love
    This soul reeks

    The fool is a fountain of youngish beauty
    Bids stay too long
    Find only brutish cruelty
    It matters not that the water’s salty
    Stench of the heads stacked up revolting
    At least he’s good-looking
    They’ll say
    Secret gem all people crave
    He'll turn and demolish another page
    Body and muscles cannot save
    Beauty beholds blindness:
    His heart is faulty

    How many hearts does the male slut batter,
    Before you look past his immaculate platter?
    How long can a handsome face torture your soul?
    Before you see him as bridge’s troll?
    Is there any limit to the damage they impose?
    Anything worse than mocking without clothes?
    Is it love that brings this greatest patience?
    Or are you just one of many adjacent?

    I’ve scaled both sides of this duplicitous coin
    Seen hearts melt
    And scorn
    Dependent on the loin
    There are no angels in the hearts of men
    No ruler save the turgid pen
    For when illusion turns nightmare
    There’s nothing a person will not dare
    To show that nobody ever cares
    That life is down to your hair
    When you are beaten, freak most rare

    You are all ugly to me.

    ~ Muffin
    Last edited by a moderator: Nov 6, 2011
  2. Youlleatamuffinandlikeit

    Youlleatamuffinandlikeit Well-Known Member

    Written three more verses tonight:

    In this carnal hierarchy of humans
    There’s only faith and a using
    Turn over polite worm wood
    See spirits squirm if they could
    Beautiful minds are as mud
    Lacking ability for blood
    I stand apart from these ‘blessed’
    Nobody wants scuzz undressed
    Faulty pen blinds to the best
    Underground hearts to the test
    There’s only have or ache shake
    In world of fucking for its sake

    ‘Love’ is power
    ‘Love’ is a tower
    ‘Love’ is this ruse I’m feeling again
    Heated is mask of bewitching bruiser
    Clasping closely his red net, full of loser
    Brimming misery in a fizzy lake
    Brings power in the form of affection fake
    Trust not the whiteness of his smile
    The gaudiness of his gingerbread mile
    They warp and hide the truth of vile
    Libidinous violence; the spell beguiles

    Flower that springs from nature
    Has done nothing to earn it’s date-share
    No justice in the spring of allure
    No answer for those bereft elegant cure
    Yet hard falls the hammer of society’s swing
    On underlings seeking their own truth of the wing
    The flick of a wrist
    Carries death or a lift
    A canvas through which internal agonies sift
    Misery is the heart of beauty-avarice
    Eternal struggle is the price
    When fighting to be more than mice
    Mirror shatters age and lice

    Not sure yet where I would put them in the overall poem.
Thread Status:
Not open for further replies.