Hate

I just re-watched the movie 10 Things I Hate About You. If you haven't seen the movie, you should, it is really good. It is based off of Taming of the Shrew (Shakespeare). At the end of the movie, Kat reads her poem. It goes like this:
"I hate the way you talk to me
And the way you cut your hair.
I hate the way you drive my car.
I hate it when you stare.
I hate your big dumb combat boots.
And the way you read my mind.
I hate you so much it makes me sick.
It even makes me rhyme.
I hate the way you're always right.
I hate it when you lie.
I hate it when you make me laugh;
Even worse when you make me cry.
I hate it when you're not around
And the fact that you didn't call,
But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you;
Not even close;
Not even a little bit;
Not even at all."

I wrote a poem like this for my friend. It is a bit more repetitive and it doesn't really rhyme. I'm not trying to say that if you hate someone a lot, you actually like them, it just sometimes happens. So here is Hate:

Hate
I hate the way you smirk at me
when you know you messed it up.
I hate the way you think you're funny,
when you know you're really not.
I hate the way you think you're cool,
when all you are is crude.

I hate the way you laugh at jokes,

when they are only rude.

I hate the way you act so high
when you know you'll get your way.
I hate the way you flick your head,
when hair is in your face.

I hate the way you think you're good,

when in truth you really are.

I hate the way you chew your gum,

even from afar.

I hate the way you act so bad,

when I know you could be nice.

I hate the way you never listen,

when people give you advice.

I hate the way you don't hate me

the way that I hate you.

'Cause in my hatred there might be

a little love too.

If Ever There Was...

This is one of the few poems where I wrote about myself. I had just read Sonnet 54, hence the canker blooms. I used this to express sort of a jumble of things from finding myself, to finding a home, to finding love.

If Ever There Was...
If ever there was a way to live
Where seeing the canker blooms
Meant smelling them too
I would want to live there.
If I could live in a world
Where you knew what you had to do
And when you had to do it
Then I would be there.

If ever there was a way to truly be
Someone you are not
And fool not only others but also yourself
I would be using it.
If I could change everything about me
Even my passion and my nature
For something, anything else
I wouldn’t be who I am now.

If ever there was a way to be sure
That I actually like you
And it wouldn’t question who I was
Then maybe I could let myself fall in love.
If I could fall in love
With you or someone like you
And I knew I was ready for it
Then maybe I wouldn’t stop myself.

For sale: baby shoes, never worn.

At school we talked about Hemingway's six word story: "For sale: baby shoes, never worn". Some people think this profound, others find it simplistic, I find it inspirational. It seems easy to write a story in six words, but to write something decent is really hard. Here are a few I wrote:


Truly, Happily, Unused, Unworn, Thoughtfully, Silent.
Who would have thought that he
She wasn’t taking care of herself.
What about revenge, can’t you remember?
I always sit at lunch alone.
We hate each other: always, forever.
Hate him, because you loved him.
You only need to be perfect.

The Listener

This is the first poem I wrote. Not actually the first poem I wrote, you know I wrote the haiku in third grade, wrote the free form in fifth grade, wrote the shape poem in sixth grade, but this was my first real poem. This was the first poem I wrote that actually meant anything to me. I wrote it on January 17, 2008 in the dining hall at my school.

The Listener
Subtle and silent,
Not a word.
More learned from
Mere observation.
Speaking is nothing more,
Than a waste of time.
A mind full of memories,
That aren’t mine.
A way of life,
Better than yours.