Professor J's Place

23 April, 2010

Love poems

I was looking at love poems today because, well, just because (she says with a wry smile). Here's one I love. What are some of the love poems that move you? Share them with me, will you?

I Ask The Impossible
Ana Castillo

I ask the impossible: love me forever.
Love me when all desire is gone.
Love me with the single mindedness of a monk.
When the world in its entirety,
and all that you hold sacred advise you
against it: love me still more.
When rage fills you and has no name: love me.
When each step from your door to your job tires you--
love me; and from job to home again, love me, love me.
Love me when you're bored--
when every woman you see is more beautiful than the last,
or more pathetic, love me as you always have:
not as admirer or judge, but with
the compassion you save for yourself
in your solitude.
Love me as you relish your loneliness,
the anticipation of your death,
mysteries of the flesh, as it tears and mends.
Love me as your most treasured childhood memory--
and if there is none to recall--
imagine one, place me there with you.
Love me withered as you loved me new.
Love me as if I were forever--
and I, will make the impossible
a simple act,
by loving you, loving you as I do.

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Blogger Cheri @ Blog This Mom!® said...

You were reading love poems because of brindle dogs, weren't you (she says with a wry smile).

I love this one. And you. Especially you.

April 23, 2010 at 11:15 AM  
Blogger Cheri @ Blog This Mom!® said...

Forgetting question marks is a sign of old age.

April 23, 2010 at 11:16 AM  
Anonymous K. said...

Oooh, I really like that one.

Hmmm. I haven't really been in a love-y sort of place with poetry lately, I'm sure you've noticed. But I've always loved e.e. cummings' "somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond," and I think his "i like my body when it is with your body" is pretty hot.

I also really love Colours by Yevgeny Yevtushenko and I plan to share Alive Together by Lisel Mueller on my blog for my upcoming wedding anniversary.

April 23, 2010 at 8:17 PM  
Anonymous K. said...

Oh, I'm crazy about this one, too:

by Margaret Atwood

Marriage is not
a house or even a tent

it is before that, and colder:

The edge of the forest, the edge
of the desert
the unpainted stairs
at the back where we squat
outside, eating popcorn

where painfully and with wonder
at having survived even
this far

we are learning to make fire

April 24, 2010 at 2:29 AM  

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