It should be easy enough to find a love poem to post on Valentine’s Day, and of course it is, but I recalled I had an anthology of love poems from years ago – remembering its green cover, and thinking I enjoyed reading it back then – and so it seemed interesting to seek out and find a poem from that nostalgic source.
And I did find it, but what a miserable collection! I’d forgotten how narrow its selection was too: its three main poets T.S. Elliot, D.H. Lawrence and Robert Graves, and then fifteen individual poets ‘Since 1945’. Well, we all know how miserable Lawrence can be, and is, and the fifteen are little better in avoiding the ‘darkness’ and ‘pain’ of love! I note I had got the book in 1973, so aged 19, and perhaps that teenage angst about the misery of love – albeit late – had been the attraction.
It’s not that I felt I needed to post a red roses romantic version of love on Valentine’s Day, but I did think something reasonably upbeat would be sensible. So I got expansive and turned to poet John Hegley, searching for the light and fluffy, and thought his collection Love Cuts would be a probable good resource. ‘Cuts’? You guessed it – back to the metaphors of pain, apart from an opening poem about his first love being a ‘puppet dog’.
But I persevered, and here is another Hegley poem, just so I have fulfilled some part of my ambition for today’s posting: