"The Pleasures of Hating"

I hate Mozart. Hate him with that healthy
pleasure one feels when exasperation has

crescendoed, when lungs, heart, throat, 
and voice explode at once: I hate that! —

there's bliss in this, rapture. My shrink
tried to disabuse me, convinced I use Amadeus

as a prop: Think further, your father perhaps?
I won't go back, think of the shrink

with a powdered wig, pinched lips, mole:
a transference, he'd say, a relapse: so be it.

I hate broccoli, chain saws, patchouli, bra—
clasps that draw dents in your back, roadblocks,

men in black kneesocks, sandals and shorts—
I love hating that. Loathe stickers on tomatoes,

jerky, deconstruction, nazis, doilies. I delight
in detesting. And love loving so much after that. 

-- Laurie-Anne Bosselaar

I imagine one of the reasons people cling to their hates so stubbornly is because they sense, once hate is gone, they will be forced to deal with pain.

-- James Baldwin


Hate is only one of many responses
true, hurt and hate go hand in hand
but why be afraid of hate, it is only there

think of filth, is it really awesome
neither is hate
don’t be shy of unkindness, either
it’s cleansing and allows you to be direct 
like an arrow that feels something

out and out meanness, too, lets love breathe 
you don’t have to fight off getting in too deep 
you can always get out if you’re not too scared

an ounce of prevention’s 
enough to poison the heart 
don’t think of others 
until you have thought of yourself, are true 
all of these things, if you feel them 
will be graced by a certain reluctance 
and turn into gold 
if felt by me, will be smilingly deflected 
by your mysterious concern.

-- Frank O’Hara