I’ve long been convinced of two truths regarding poetry:
1: The easiest thing in the world to write is a love poem.
2: The hardest thing in the world to write is a good love poem.
Accordingly, I admire the hell out of a writer who can produce a tribute to his/her eternal love without making me a little sick to the stomach.
I think the problem I’ve often encountered is that great poetry – great art of any sort, really – is driven by tension. Whether it’s political rage, the fear of loss, the pain of mourning, whatever, it seems that the muse is more intrigued by that which is wrong with the world than that which is right. And love – real love, anyway – is an expression of two people’s triumph over the dark tension propelling most great artists. Most of the great love poems I can think of aren’t really love poems purely – they’re often driven by negative conditions. The love is unrequited, a lover is marching off to war, things like that.
Just one man’s opinion, I suppose, and it’s possible I’ve never been more wrong about something in my life.
So today, VerseDay offers some love poetry. We leave it to the reader to decide whether it’s great or … less great. (More…)