Welcome to Week Two of ‘Editing my own Work for Fun’ and not only is this still true, but it’s becoming very much the learning experience. This, structurally, was a bit of a challenge: working to strict syllable counts has the potential to do my head in on difficult days. As a result, there is a bit of difference between original and the new, updated version. Extra snacks if you can see where the change has been made.

The micropoetry sequence selected for next week is already making me sweat…

[The original of this poem can be found here.]


Hate

Standing still, attentive:
yet somewhat sarcastic,
love no longer fantastic.
What was possessed, departs;
passion evaporates,
relationship predates.

So overly cheerful
increasingly grating
becoming nauseating.
Acting quite the grown up:
no need for words twisted,
might yet have persisted…

Were it not for hard fact:
you’re still sleeping with him
lies wound around, kith and kin.
Grasping one’s not enough,
taking risks, pleasure both
harsh abuse, marriage oath.

Sexuality’s fine,
not where objection lies
relishing first girls then boys.
You married me, alone
not brother: so therefore
high time, show you the door.

Hate, not strong enough word,
two lives combust, apart
harshest truth, destroying hearts.
Happiness, disappears
pulling deceit too close.
mass deception exposed.

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