This isn't much, but I figured since I hadn't updated my journal in about sixth months I probably should at least post something:
There will never be a good poem written about an enemy. Prose is the cold steel maul you want if a declaration of hatred is your aim. Something about the dedicated poet—she won't let such a truly ugly notion as an "enemy" into her art. Sure, there can be devils and heartbreakers, like Plath's hulking fuehrer of a father, there can even be objects of hatred, like industrial society, as in Ginsburg's "Howl", but somehow that hatred always dissolves and the poet seems to polish a fiend into a fetish. I guess you can never really write a poem "about" something without it becoming an ode. Plus, hate poetry tends to come off as petulant and bitchy, never like the thunderous sledge strike that one has envisioned.
That make sense—after all, most popular wisdom tells us that hatred and loathing are emotions best channeled, controlled or even suppressed. You don't channel love, or control humility, or suppress charity. I'm not suggesting anyone should, of course, just that hate gets a bad rap. Hate is funny when you think about it. Real hate, real deep, black, inky hate that stains your heart and makes you ill when you think about a particular thing or person, is never really explored. Upon investigation, we often come to realize that the object of our hatred is more deserving of our pity, or at least our understanding. These are the things that they tell you are wise. I'm not going to argue with the logic. I find it all too often to be true that, when you hate someone, you usually hate them because their motives can't be understood. Once you get older and you realize that the bully that picked on you in school was brutalized by his father every single day of his life you start to feel more sympathy than anger, and perhaps even shame that you could not understand earlier.
However, all that being said, some hatred is justified. After all, if the bully hates his father for hitting him, isn't he justified? Or should he ultimately feel pity for his father, caught in a cycle of violence started generations ago? Here is the nexus of my argument: I think that eventually, everyone has the responsibility to quit being a prick. That doesn't mean we shouldn't try to understand our enemies. We should always strive to destroy our enemy by befriending him (or her). Unfortunately, there is a small subset of society that cannot even understand their own misanthropy. Even worse, their derision of you (yes, you, and me, and all of us decent people) is so disproportionate to your feelings toward them, that it is obvious that there is not an option to "agree to disagree." They are, simply put, just not high up enough on the evolutionary twig. God created all men equal, but nature is a stone cold bitch. Some people are born stupid, born aggressive, and sadly, born selfish. All these traits can be controlled, however, and not all of them make for an entirely terrible person. I have known stupid people who are also sweet and kind, aggressive people who are clever and charming, and selfish people who are brilliant and fun. But its when all these traits coalesce that you have the birth of a villain.
Now, an aside here: I realize that "villain" is a ridiculous word in and of itself. It denotes a kind of gonzo, a pirate with a hook for a hand, a bald millionaire pumping sewage into the water supply. But I posit that there are truly villains in the world—large and small, but villains all the same. You are fortunate if you have never met one, and you would know if you had. Most people, at this point in the essay, have already thought of several people whom they consider villains. If you still argue that "villain" is too simple, too narrow, consider this: there is someone out there, right now, who locks their child in a closet and takes him out only to thrash him with a broomstick or burn him with a cigar. You know this person exists somewhere, he may even be your neighbor or a distant relative. Now, what is this person, if not a villain? Yes, there are deeper psychological reasons for their behavior, possibly even uncontrollable impulses that cause them to act this way, a mean little gene burrowed like a bug in their gray soupy brain. But still—they are a villain, and a monster, and less than an animal. Less drastically, consider the man at the bar that didn't like the way you looked at him, "all cockeyed and faggy," or the customer in line before you who growls like a bear at the girl behind the cash register, who, of course, has no control over his situation.
...and I just kind of petered out here...but hey, at least I'm still writing, right?