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Sheryl Crow

I hate that word, mature, but I guess I am growing up.

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Hate That Dare Not Speak Its Name

The hate that dare not speak its name,
the hate that Muslims feel for Jews,
has now become the very same
that Nazis demonstrated––views
that Christian nations held for ages.
to trash the people that God chose
according to the Bible's pages.
Too many nation states oppose
the peaceful coexistence prophets
promised would occur when swords
would no more generate large profits,
but turned into plowshares. Their words
sometimes disguise their targets whom
they don't call Jews, but they describe
as Zionists, preparing doom
for members of the Jewish tribe.

Haman's sons all live, brought back
to life no longer hung on gallows,
and now are ready to attack
all Jews, and roast them like marshmallows,
as they once did in Spain to those
they called New Jews although they had
converted––could not change their nose,
whose length has always proved they're bad,
and many of them would be burned
alive on sacrificial pyres,
as Christian as the priests who turned
against them, claiming they were liars.

The hate that Haman felt towards
the Jews of Shushan had no name,
based on the theory Jews had hoards
of gold. Ahasuerus' dame,
Queen Esther, saved them then, but we
must make sure that the hate that hides
behind deception now will be
exposed. 'Beware the Ides
of March! ' ignored by Julius, proved
to be correct. We must beware,
lest men by hateful lies are moved
to do what hate makes bad men dare.

Though we’re all forced to live with Haman,
we must not ever compromise
with hate, but make it speak its name, an
attitude that lives on lies,
and kills with its deceptive lyin’,
conflating with its hateful fury
all Jewish foes as friends of Zion
to justify its hate of Jewry.

Ed Rothstein writes in the NYT about 'State of Deception: The Power of Nazi Propaganda, ' a major new exhibition at the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum ('Nazis' 'Terrible Weapon, ' Aimed at Minds and Heart, ' NYT, February 24,2009) :

The most haunting image in 'State of Deception: The Power of Nazi Propaganda, ' a major new exhibition at the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum here, may be the first one you see after the introductory videos. At the end of a darkened corridor is a black-and-white photograph on a black background. Underneath, with unornamented simplicity, is a single word: Hitler. It is a campaign poster from 1932, when the Nazi Party was already the second largest in the German Parliament. The mass rallies, the storm troopers, the frenzied rhetoric of this electrifying speaker: all are condensed into this silent face, which is deliberately unsettling, starkly divided into light and shade, mixing comfort with ferocity, transparency with subterranean energies. It is chilling because we know what that face unleashed, and as we make our way through the exhibition, we feel almost physically assailed. A muscular fist smashes into the face of a cringing, sweating Jew (1928) . An enormous
itler is superimposed on a crowd of ecstatic Germans raising hands in salute as red gothic letters shout, 'Ja! ' (1934) .. The exhibition points out that the Nazis financed anti-Semitic broadcasts by Haj Amin al-Husseini, 'an Arab nationalist and prominent Muslim religious leader.' Now no sponsorship seems needed. Major Middle East media outlets have asserted that Jews use children's blood to bake matzos. In recent weeks we have heard that Jews are following the nefarious plot outlined in the Protocols to exterminate all gentiles, this from the poet and former member of the Lebanese Parliament Ghassan Matar. An Egyptian cleric, Safwat Higazi, has described Jews being 'as smooth as a viper': 'Dispatch those son of apes and pigs to the Hellfire.' And an Egyptian cleric with strong ties to the West, Sheikh Yusuf al-Qaradhawi, has described Jews as 'a profligate, cunning arrogant band of people': 'Oh Allah, count their numbers, and kill them, down to the very last one.' The ex
ent of these visions (chronicled by the Middle East Media Research Institute) , the historical distortions they codify and the readiness with which they are taught to children and are secularized into political action suggest that the strongest contemporary analogy to Nazi propaganda may be one the exhibition leaves unmentioned.

© 2009 Gershon Hepner 2/24/09

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I Hate That I'm Sad

i hate that i'm angry
i hate that i yell
my self on the ground
from your world i fell

i hate that i cry
i hate that i'm lost
my self all alone
but at what cost

i hate that i cut
i hate that i bleed
my self through the times
i thought i would need

i hate i take pills
i hate they control
my self from all feeling
givin up my whole

i hate that i drown
i hate that i've known
my self in the tub
my grave, my home

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Hate That Is Good,

hate that is good,
Iam hating that is good,
loving that is bad,
We all know not,
That is what Mohammed said,
But God know's,
Where is the New World?

Think son,
Education is important like Sammy said or whoever said so,
It is us to study hard and get wisdom,
Brains and knowledge,
We hate the good because of Ignorance,
Never deny your King,
Any moments,
Never disown your Father,
Never live in Ignorance,
The rules are not money,
The rules are all about life on earth.

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The Hate That I Loved

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.
I hate that it’s yours.
I hate that I can’t be around you.
I hate how I’ve lost you.
I hate how I’ve found out who you really are.
I hate that I can’t tell you any of this.
But most of all,
I hate how I can’t hate you,
Not even a little.
I hate how I still love you

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I Hate That I Hate

I hate the way you treat me
I hate that everything is how you want it to be
I hate all your lies and silly games
I hate how you make them all the same
I hate that I feel this way
I hate that I can't take the pain away
I hate that I'm your back bone
I hate being in the same zone
I hate the way you make me feel
I hate the pain won't heal
I hate that you are too blind to see
I hate that I want to leave
I hate not wanting to be around
I hate your mouth that produces bad sounds
I hate a lot of other things too
But I hate that you make me hate you

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The Word That Wouldn’t Fit (Fun Poem 25)

A writer’s life is full of woe,
you find a word you like,
then you write something,
and try to fit that word in,
but when you look again.
That word you thought of
it just won’t fit in,
no matter how hard you try it,
that word just will not go.
In a fit of frustration,
you stick it here and there.
Just like jigsaw puzzle
where the pieces will not fit,
so this word will not go anywhere.
In the end you say, “OH heck! ”
Then you put the word
to the back of your mind.
Maybe another day
in another poem,
that word just might fit.
Having said all that,
I’m not betting on it.

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That Was Then But This Is Now

Why make the past your sacred cow?
I guess youve changed, youve changed and how
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Fruits grown rotten on the bough
Reap what you sow, with a counterfeit plough
Yeah, yeah, yeah
That was then but this is now
That was then but this is now
More sacrifices than an aztec priest
Standing here straining at that leash
All fall down
Cant complain, musnt grumble
Help yourself to another peace of apple crumble
And consequently:
Hearts of oak are charged and blistered
Russians should be baby-sitted
Americans enlisted
That was then but this is now
That was then but this is now
That was then but this is now

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I Hate That. I Hate How.

I hate that I can't sleep at night because of you.
I hate that I can't forget memories of you no matter what I do.
I hate how I look for you, and your no where to be found, your never around.
I hate how when I listen to love songs, your all I see.
I hate how I can still feel your hand In mine.
I hate how I remember looking In your eyes.
I hate how I can't get over you, and move on alone.
I hate how I still have your number programmed In my phone.
I hate that I can't take pictures of us off my wall.
I hate that you're not by my side anymore.
I hate how this Is all so true.

But most of all,
I hate that with out me, your doing just fine.

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I hate that I don't hate you

I hate that you left me
I have that I fell for you
I hate that your smile haunts
I hate that you died
I hate that I can't be angry
I hate that I'm upset
I hate that you wanted this
I hate that I wasn't enough
I hate that I couldn't make you happy
I hate that your gone
I hate that I don't hate you
I hate that your laugh is gone
I hate your gentle kisses
I hate your friends for not crying
I hate that I can't stop crying
I hate that life goes on
I hate that your not actually dead
I hate your choices
I hate the drugs that you love
I hate I feel that your dead
I hate you're no longer mine
I hate the people you now call friends
I hate the men you sleep with
I hate your dad for what he's done
I hate seeing you so unhappy
I hate so many things but the one
I hate the most
I hate that I love you
I hate I would die for you
I hate I'll never get over you
I hate this new you
I hate myself for not hating you

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That Word - from a poem by Kabir

What is there to say
about that word?

Nothing. It is itself enough.

Everything. For everything springs from it;
whatever you speak, is praise of it.

Seek it. But where to seek it?

On a clear night, go outside;
see the stars of the Milky Way shimmering there.

Somewhere inside yourself, you will be near
that word.

When you have found that place
near it, guard it:

love its mystery – always beyond;
love its reality – all that springs from it;

writers write from it;
musicians sing it, play from it;
dancers dance from it;

renunciates owning nothing in their snowy caves
are full of it;

even the greedy seek it everywhere;
even disbelievers have to say it, to deny it;

we live in it, move in it, owe our being to it;
yet it means nothing to you until you seek it;

for inside that word,
everything is full of light;

there is enough of that light in one human heart
to light the whole world.

Breathe in that word;
breathe out that word.

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I hate the word gothic but I would like to try doing something like that. A gothic sound, not rock, but gothic. There's a difference.

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I hate that

I hate that i can't hate you
I hate the fact that pour with him...
I hate the fact we once were...
I hate that i can't be with you
I hate that i still
LOVE YOU

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I Hate That Time

I Hate that time
When you hurt me
I Hate that time
When you ignore me
I Hate that time
When you tease me
I Hate that time
When you laugh on me
I Hate that time
When you kidding me
I Hate that time
When you make me upset
I Hate that time
When I Love you

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Hate That I Ever Loved You

i hate that i've loved you, i hate that you hate me, i hate that i hate myself for loving you, i hate that you let me fall for you.............I HATE MY HEART, i hate that i belived you, i hate that you lied to me, i hate the pain we've gone through, i hate how i've change you.............and i'm sorry you hurt

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I Hate Everything About You!

I Hate you
I Hate your lies
I Hate that you care but you don't
I Hate you for everything you said
I Hate the drugs you love
I Hate the way you changed
I Hate you for threating me that you were going to hurt me
I Hate you for treating me like dirt
I Hate the way you laughed at my problems
I Hate you for wanting this!

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A Letter To Myself

I really didn't see it coming
The pain I put you through
All those lonely nights
When I wasn't there for you
I can feel the pent up anger
The hate that's consuming you
I guess I lost my chance at heaven
By the hell I put you through
If we could start over again
Would we feel the same
Or would the past kill any chance
Of ending any other way
I don't know what to tell you
I don't know what to say
But I know one thing for certain
Tomorrow brings a brand new day

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Letter To Myself

I really didn't see it coming
The pain I put you through
Alll those lonely nights
When I wasn't there for you
I can feel the pent up anger
The hate that's consuming you
I guess I lost my chance at heaven
By the hell I put you through
If we could start over again
Would we feel the same?
Or would the past kill any chance
Of ending any other way?
I don't know what to tell you
I don't know what to say
But one thing I know for certain
Tomorrow brings a brand new day

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That Word That Smells

I've found a reason not to rhyme.
Or open a door to flowing prose.
I suppose I am not feeling poetic today.
Nor especially free of speech.
Although there is a discipline to write.
Sometimes my mind turns off like a light.

And even though I said,
I've found a reason not to rhyme...
Something 'automatic' within me resists.
Something inside of me refuses to respond,
To my temptations that exist to just say...
It!
You know.
That word that smells when one feels like hell!

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The Hate That I Hate

I hate the hate that resides in me now

I hate the hate that is so heavy it weighs me down
I hate the hate that keeps my emotions tightly wound

I hate the hate that charges my wall
I hate the hate that lies to strengthen my fall

I hate the hate that has me in chains
I hate the hate that courses through my veins

I hate the hate that is a shadow at my side
I hate the hate that has stolen my mind

I hate the hate that blinds me from the stars
I hate the hate that has created my war

I hate the hate that has stolen my grace

My scarlet letter written all over my face

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I Hate You, I Hate That...

I hate you
I hate that you left me stand stupid for so long
I hate that you thought I could or would take it.
I hate you
I hate that you let me go
I hate that you left me standing alone.
I hate you
I hate that you couldn't prove me wrong
I hate that I was right.

I hate you
I hate that I met you
I hate that I opened my heart
I hate that it was to you
I hate that I love you
I hate you
I hate that I lost my clear mind
I hate that I lost my direction
I hate that I lost it because of you

I hate you
I hate that I hate you
It wasn't suppose to be like this.
I hate you.

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