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Click hereshe loves me
she loves me not
Head over heels?
Not I.
Ass over tea kettle
fits better.
I've no grace,
least of all with love.
she loves me
she loves me not
I've seen those women
radiant with love.
Walking talking hurricane
lamps casting arcs
of warmth from within.
Bitches.
she loves me
she loves me not
I stumble, tumble
awkward
and childish
and usually fall
on my ass.
And yet, somehow
she loves me.
Inspired by the painting "Breeze Shouldered Memories" by artist Terry Rentzepis. Please see the February Poem Contest thread for more information.
This poem was mentioned in the Archival Review thread, in a picking through Lit's archive of over 38,500 poems.
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somehow, dear sweet gosling, I missed this when it was first posted., excellent work, Minsue, loved it :)
Your words ring true in this poem. How foolish we seem to ourselves and yet, those who love us seem to ignore it and love us more...
~Honey
and wondrous, and powerfully evocative. Sometimes we get romance right despite ourselves. Thanks, Min. LJ
As gentle as the summer breeze. Soft as a feather. But in its emotion, as powerful as a huricane.
Loved it! A fun read- I absolutely identify. I'm not particulary graceful myself, about anything.
The structure, the complexity of emotion, the echo of how so many of us feel when we're freefalling with more emotion that grace…it's all there. Nicely done, min. :)
Often with love poems they can be sappy and trite. This was very real and immensly more powerful. You did a great job with a simple theme. The simlicity of it gives it its grace and draw. Interesting spacing and blocking kept it unique. I applaud you for your creativity and effectiveness.
Now that the seemingly clinical portion of this comment is over:
It was damn good! I always enjoy whatever you do. You have a gift and a talent that you should be kind enough to share with us more often. I always treasure what you do. Don't ever stop being you.
I've seen those women
radiant with love.
Walking talking hurricane
lamps casting arcs
of warmth from within.
Bitches.
Favorite stanza.
Not a thing I didn't like. Serious, humorous, kind of a mix. Good work!