Dog goD 8Hate

(Grass Valley, Ca.)

Gross Irony Acknowledged


I know, it's not you,
it's not me...
who can see?

All this vocation
designated with stealth -
humans enjoying another's wealth.

I know the uncanny
designation's spawning
force...

And I do enjoy my
slight portion:
'HATE! ' with distinction.

Yet that's not mine
either...I have to
wait on his dis-grace

I'd love to spit in his face!

Hate8 - 11/10/07

Submitted: Saturday, November 10, 2007
Edited: Saturday, April 23, 2011
Listen to this poem:

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Gross Irony Acknowledged by Dog goD 8Hate )

Enter the verification code :

  • Goldy Locks (1/29/2008 10:44:00 PM)

    hotxx language. Such force thru brevity & concise wit. Covet thy neighbor's riches - spit in his face! You're unafraid to voice it. The oh-so-unsweet truths, we all keep and are scared shitless to acknowledge... keep on ~ ~ sjg (Report) Reply

Read all 1 comments »

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. Blessings, Ronald Wallace
  2. heart, laxami Cards
  3. The Facts Of Life, Ronald Wallace
  4. The Fat of the Land, Ronald Wallace
  5. Cello, Phil Soar
  6. In Praise of Winter, Ronald Wallace
  7. Traveling, Ronald Wallace
  8. Snow Joke, Ronald Wallace
  9. The Humor of the Universe, Ronald Wallace
  10. Literature in the 21st Century [excerpt], Ronald Wallace

Poem of the Day

poet Wilfred Owen

All sounds have been as music to my listening:
Pacific lamentations of slow bells,
The crunch of boots on blue snow rosy-glistening,
Shuffle of autumn leaves; and all farewells:

...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]