Welcome to The Coffee Shop, just for you early risers on Monday mornings.
This is an Open Thread forum, so if you have an off-topic opinion burning
a hole in your brainpan, feel free to add a comment.
We are shaped and fashioned by what we love.
– Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Valentine’s Day is almost upon us. Whether you like the idea of a day devoted to Love, or you think it’s just a conspiracy between the candy makers, the florists, and the card companies, it’s the time of year when Love, especially Romantic and True Love, is on many people’s minds.
So here are some poems that aren’t too long. They may inspire you to say something lovely to someone who is already very special in your life, or to a person you’d really like to be your special someone. Or if you’re in recovery from love gone bad, perhaps a bit of hope for the next time.
by Rita Dove
After all, there’s no need
to say anything
at first. An orange, peeled
and quartered, flares
like a tulip on a wedgewood plate
Anything can happen.
Outside the sun
has rolled up her rugs
and night strewn salt
across the sky. My heart
is humming a tune
I haven’t heard in years!
Quiet’s cool flesh—
let’s sniff and eat it.
There are ways
to make of the moment
so the pleasure’s in
“Flirtation” from Museum, © 1983 by Rita Dove
– Carnegie Mellon University Press
The next two poems are from http://www.onesentencepoems.com/osp/,
a website devoted to one sentence poems.
by Steve Klepetar
There is no video of Steve Klepetar dancing in college
Song for Sex
by Angeline Schellenberg
Oh, mashup of poetry and friction,
all here-ness and bungle,
here’s to years of trust, flashes of huzzah,
the grudging forgiveness,
and the halleluiah.
Angeline Schellenberg, author of Tell Them It Was Mozart (Brick Books, 2016), lives in Winnipeg, Canada, with her husband, two teenagers, and a German Shepherd-Corgi
Sometimes the reasons we love someone are not obvious to other people.
by Craig Arnold
Of many reasons I love you here is one
the way you write me from the gate at the airport
so I can tell you everything will be alright
so you can tell me there is a bird
trapped in the terminal all the people
ignoring it because they do not know
what to do with it except to leave it alone
until it scares itself to death
it makes you terribly terribly sad
You wish you could take the bird outside
and set it free or (failing that)
call a bird-understander
to come help the bird
All you can do is notice the bird
and feel for the bird and write
to tell me how language feels
but you are wrong
You are a bird-understander
better than I could ever be
who make so many noises
and call them song
These are your own words
your way of noticing
and saying plainly
of not turning away
you have offered them
to me I am only
giving them back
if only I could show you
how very useless
they are not
“Bird-Understander.” Copyright 2009 by Craig Arnold
[love is more thicker than forget]
by e. e. cummings
love is more thicker than forget
more thinner than recall
more seldom than a wave is wet
more frequent than to fail
it is most mad and moonly
and less it shall unbe
than all the sea which only
is deeper than the sea
love is less always than to win
less never than alive
less bigger than the least begin
less littler than forgive
it is most sane and sunly
and more it cannot die
than all the sky which only
is higher than the sky
[love is more thicker than forget] from Complete Poems 1904-1962, © 1926, 1954, 1991 by the Trustees for the E.E. Cummings Trust – Liveright
Love doesn’t always go well.
by Jill Alexander Essbaum
Of inclement climate
Too stoic to open,
Like an oyster
That cloisters a spoil of pearls,
The heart that’s had
Jill Alexander Essbaum’s Poem appeared in the December 2009 of
Poetry Magazine, © 2009 by Jill Alexander Essbaum
When Love does go right, it’s worth everything it took to find it.
by Nona Blyth Cloud
We have been married
. . . 37 days,
. . . . . . 2 hours,
. . . . . . . . . 12 minutes
. . . . . . . . . . . . and 24 seconds . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 25 . . . 26 . . . . . .
It seems shorter.
. . . Time sucks our joy greedily,
. . . sipping our bitter hours at his leisure.
It seems longer.
. . . How many lifetimes
. . . . . . have we been lovers?
We married at noon,
when the light is brightest,
. . . . . . and shadows thin,
. . . . . . . . . halo edges . . .
May it always be so.
“Marriage Poem” © 1983 by Nona Blyth Cloud