First, to writers and poets-
you do realize that love exists between the words,
or, more accurately, behind the words,
or, ideally, when reading, hovering above the words,
reaching out to you...
and there is more...
Love can be sensed...
in timing...
in pauses for reflection...
and in spontaneous responses...
is there more?
Yes...
Love can exist without playing games,
and without pretense,
and it can withstand both when they arise...
is that it then?
No...
Love is more that just a feeling to be consumed
like a cheeseburger,
or a fine wine;
it is reactions to the feelings of others,
it is given...
so that’s got to be it, right?
No... there is more...
Love is giving your heart,
free for the taking, though at a cost to you;
the cost is the loss of a 'seed',
but as a seed, you sow it in hopes of return...
and yes, there is more...
Love is something terrifying to gain,
and once gained,
it is even more terrifying to lose...
is that all?
There is more...
Love is joy,
love is pain,
love is hope,
love is anxiety,
and love is not having to pretend at any of them...
however... there is another aspect...
love is an ever-changing thing,
a beast, some would say,
to be tamed, and always to be renewed
every 48 hours...
is there still more?
Much more...
for love is those thousand little things
that say so much,
many in mutual support...
and beyond that
all the things we do not understand about love,
much of which defies reason...
which is perhaps why,
being illogical,
women understand love better than men...
(lol)
(just a parting jab)
and yes, love is a smile,
and a sigh...
and did you notice something
very, very important?
I’ll give you a minute to think...
at a loss?
Then I will tell you:
all this love,
and we haven’t even brought out
our bedroom eyes yet...
no intimate contact,
our clothes have been on all this time...
Yesterday, for me?
Love was the wind
blowing a tear away.
Could there possibly be more?
Of course; in the poetic and abstract realms,
such as, "love is a crazy shape, a colour that is odd..."
for I only pointed out real-world examples
drawn from experience...
here is an interesting continuation-
love between minds, while the hearts sleep...
http://allpoetry.com/poem/5552553
Author notes
a response to the thinking that love begins and ends with sex, and is to be consumed greedily...
thanks to Haygood for the seed analogy...
and individuality for "love is a crazy shape, a colour that is odd..."
In a list
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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Wonderful, my poetic daddy-o.
I do so like it when you write about love and mushy stuff.
Now...Can I borrow the car???
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sure, be home by 9...
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Um...I need $20, too.
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sure, and here's a can of mace, just in case...
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It inspired a poetic response
On this site: the power in words
Of simple or complex design
To fill the wells within the mind
With Love.
Then Reason flows upon those banks,
Over cherished thoughts and gracious thanks,
Disclosing that it is absurd
That Love be born of none but word.
Dismissing such as revelry,
Foolish thoughts to cast to sea,
Logic says it is unheard
That Love be born of none but word.
But Logic and Reason must give place
Where we have neither form nor face,
Only thoughts that have occurred;
Thus, Love,
Be born
Of none
But word.
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now you've gone and made me cry... interesting- a mind-to-mind piece causing tears, speaking of love, the hearts resting, sleeping like children... I think you just defied Mother Nature, or... like Einstein and Newton, you've just pushed our understanding of love to the next level... and I'm glad I mentioned 'intelligence', this piece hit home without a hint of emotional heaviness, indeed, without a hint of emotion at all... and I was moved...
so... who wrote that? You forgot to give credit...
I may 'smooth it out' for you, for I do like a piece to flow like liquid (liquid love?) with no 'bumps'... and yes, you should post it... you've reached my heart through my mind, Jane... no one has ever done that... it could be that this piece was simply a reassurance after much doubt and worry... but I'll enjoy my first assessment...
with you don't know how much love,
Wayne
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Wayne, since it was your poem above that inspired me to pour out that poem in response, I'm giving you half the credit for writing it! Well, I'd like to anyway. Yes, I wrote that spontaneously, not really thinking about it, really thinking about what you had just written. So feel free to "spruce it up" since it's not anybody famous or anyone who would mind (just me). It does sound Shakespearean though, at times, but I don't think Shakespeare would have made it so "bumpy". Thanks a million!
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actually it sounds like "A Poem as Lovely as a Tree" by Joyce Kilmer (yes, I did put it to song and sang it...)
I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth's sweet flowing breast;
A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
A tree that may in Summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.
fitting, in my case...
now I'll run off, la-la'ing my song to it (quite bouncy, actually...)
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Somehow I think this is what poetry is all about---inspiring expression and renewing expression. One poem inspires another which inspires another....it keeps us creating no matter the circumstances, we are constantly creating something new or different from it day by day. It is a feeling constantly renewing itself, so long as we allow it. I think that is what you were saying about Love, and you have provided a perfect example here in the comments. (Loved the tree poem, you're right they do sound similar!)
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well, as for creating poetry, for me there is also that primal creative urge, so if nothing of value presented itself, I would just babble and be happy...
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Primal creative urge? That so matches your pic! And babbling and happy? I can see you doing that---looks like you've given us a geniune look at yourself. Most appealing.
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Ah, but that more would see love in this light. I admire your talent for stating what should be obvious but usually isn't. Your words gave me pause to think on the truest meaning of love, for me at least. It may be different for others, we must all seek to understand it is a precious gift. Appreciated when recieved and mourned when lost. Your words were of no comfort to me however. It only made the realalization of my lost love more vivid. But then, such is life. I will survive.
Thank you for sharing your talent yet again.
Poo
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Well, to take a positive view, at least you'll know the signs when they come again, and knowing the signs may perhaps prevent failure... but right now I'm thinking that love cannot survive exhaustion, and I'm totally worn out! so good night!
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I challenge the premise that love cannot be consumed like a cheeseburger. If one part is only giving and one part is only taking, I believe the taking will consume the giving. That is why there are near "empty shell women" looking for men to give. It could apply in the other direction although not nearly as often. Men are typically selfish (here goes another "man code") and take more than give. The worst of them consume their wife"s love and spirit. The wife generally leaves before this happens and you find them here on AP pouring their heart into a poem and having a wrong understanding of love...
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Yes, there is a case for everything... and I've seen those that you speak of- selfish, hurtful people... but my case (the one I'm addressing with this poem) consumed emotions like she was smoking a doobie... like it was something to get high off of, with no thought for the other person or the future... like a recreation... hence she gained a reputation for hurting men, a 'maneater' so to speak... 'playing games with men's emotions', as one woman put it...
so I added in my AN that I was answering this specific person's question, "So, What Is Love Beyond Sex?" (for she did not know). So you see, I could not be vague or general here, like "love is crazy colors", that would have been silly, I had to take real-world, concrete examples with emotional validity behind them, and hence I drew completely from personal experience, I could not draw from a quote book and pull out empty phrases... and metaphysical arguments, while cute, pretty, and poetic, would not have accomplished anything...
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I belive...
you have just scratched the surface. If there is one thing I know , it's this; I will never know all I want about love. The search is maddening at worst and glorious at best. But the search goes on. Thank you for this poem and the mention. I look forward to future works.
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you missed the point here, H, and it's not your fault... I've put the purpose of this piece in my author's notes now, to add perspective... but, in general, you are right- love is not yet a science...
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and in immediate, pure responses...
- yes
Love can exist without playing games,
- and again i repeat myself - yes.
i could quote here lots back at you but i will not. what i will say though is this:
love is a crazy shape, a colour that is odd and we are forever trying to bash it into the wrong hole like a childhood toy. love is right here right now as my fingers type and my face smiles and my mind says hello
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I really, really like that; "Love is a crazy shape, a color that is odd..." We try to put love in a box. Love is this...love is that... Love is action, not reaction.Love is "you". But also..."God is love".
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thanks, indi, and no, I don't want a deluge of pre-existing, tired old quotes, only fresh views allowed here...!
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but that said, this piece was in response to a specific philosophy (which I added to my author's notes now), and I needed real-world, concrete illustrations... an ethereal response such as colors and crazy shapes would not have worked... lol (as you will see when you read the philosophy I was challenging in my author's notes...)
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