UKArchive



UKArchive ID: 24737An ode to the opposite of love by Fitbin
Originally published on April 16, 2010 in Poetry

This is a short description of my submission. It was written to express some thoughts and themes that were lurking around.



Cold sunlight illuminates his jaded old frame,
lying to himself for fun, he takes another drink.
Expanding in vital consciousness even as his
intellect withers and all dreams fade from view.
Brain cells atrophying so quickly he can feel it,
a terrifying loss of thought and will and essence.

What caused all this? Where did it start?
Questions formed as the answers swam out of reach.
His hands shook as he vainly tried to take a stand,
fighting against the aggressors that overtook his body.
What if the voice inside his head was not his own?
Who was it? Brutal imagination, or just plain, old insanity?

Fingers tapping out letters and words of dubious meaning,
a meandering journey of obfuscation and deceit.
A chocolate egg filled with broken glass and needles,
his life was awkward and negative and wrapped in fear.
Whatever he wanted, he got, except for truth or peace.
A joke inside an insult, tortured his fraying soul.

Cutting and rending with reckless abandon, he bled her dry,
burning and breaking the spirit and the tormented flesh.
Time sped up unbearably, with every blink another day had passed,
accused of wanton cruelty, that hurt his fading nobility.
His mind closed and the walls went up, another decision made,
with no home and nowhere to belong, he drifted into confusion.

© Fitbin (fitbin on OLD UKA)
UKArchive ID: 24737
Archived comments for An ode to the opposite of love
Elfstone on 17-04-2010
An ode to the opposite of love
This is a powerful poem and a frighteningly accurate description of the person contained therein. It leaves me feeling that you must have known him. A good, if uncomfortable, read. Elf.

Author's Reply:
Hi, thanks for your comment.
But who do you think the poem is about?

sunken on 21-04-2010
An ode to the opposite of love
Hello Fitbin. Surprised you didn't get more comment on this, my good fellow. One of your strongest, in my sunken opinion. Sorry I didn't comment at the time. I've been busy attempting to split atoms using everyday household objects. Surprisingly I've found the good old potato peeler to be of most benefit with regards to this seemingly implausible task. I trust this hasn't helped at all? Nice work, fella.

s
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Author's Reply:
Sunken, old bean,
many thanks as always.
I think cold fusion is the best bet.

pdemitchell on 04-05-2010
An ode to the opposite of love
I like this - it reminds me of writer's block for some reason - Fingers tapping out letters and words of dubious meaning. Dark and brooding and exploring the borders of insanity. The form is very loose. almost reading alound as prose but without falling apart as a pice of poetry. Mitch 🙂

Author's Reply:
hey thanks,
I am glad you got something out of this.
I do opt for a very loose style,
so it's good if the piece still manages to convey some meaning.