God Help Us All, Love Is In The Air!

Written by poetry  |  31. January 2001

by Priscilla Barton Happy Valentine's Day! Ah, Hallmark is licking its lips in anticipation, knowing crazed lovers will dole out big bucks for their saccharin verse. It's a given. We've been brainwashed. It started in the first grade when that goofy kid who shot spitballs at you all day had the nerve to hand you a Valentine. You kicked him in the shin, but secretly coveted that paper heart. Bet you still have it! Love makes fools of us all. That pretty card, and a heart-shaped box of candy tells us we are loved. Of course, as we get older and more jaded, we demand more elaborate evidence of this love, like jewelry - expensive jewelry. Pity the poor husband who believes the box of candy in his hands is going to get him the sweet and appreciative reaction he so desires. Yep, one more holiday gone commercial. Time to whip out the plastic, and top last year's gift. Where is the romance? Where is the thrill of that tiny paper heart I was handed in the first grade? For all of the men who never seem to get it right, listen up! Buy her a book of poetry by Pablo Neruda, master of love. Then read her the poem that best describes what she means to you. Trust me, this will score you big points with the fair lady. (by the way, she'll also take the jewelry) Of course, if you're a poet, you have the upperhand. No need to tell the poet how it's done. He already knows how to kill with words. In summation, let's be sweet to each other, let's hold hands, and kiss for a really long time, let's drink champagne in the bathtub together, let's blast Otis Redding, and slow-dance in the living room, let's remember that tiny paper heart in first grade. Oh, and let's make love! A poem from Pablo: Distant Woman This woman fits in my hands. She is fair and blonde, and I would carry her in my hands like a basket of magnolias. This woman fits in my eyes. My gaze enfolds her, my gaze that sees nothing as it enfolds her. This woman fits in my desires. She is naked before the yearning flame of my life, and my desire burns her like a live coal. But, Distant Woman, my hands, my eyes, and my desires save for you their caresses, because only you, distant woman, only you fit in my heart. by Pablo Neruda Between kisses, let's remember the upcoming poetry readings on Long Island. Check out The New Scene at The Hansom House located at 256 Elm St. Southhampton, NY on Thursday nights at 8:30PM on Feb.1st, Feb.8th, Feb.15th, & Feb. 22. And don't forget The Swingset at 60 Main St. Bayshore, NY, hosted by Soul Kitchen on Feb. 10th at 8PM. Poetry is out there. Go find it! Peace.

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