i do know for sure, that we’d have poetry reading– that’s for sure. i’ve already spoken to trevor (actually oddly enough, they were the ones who raised the issue about weddings with me). see, i’ve been meeting his really cool biker uncle and aunty (somewhat infrequently) but still, a couple of time since he left for the states. anyway, we went for dinner the other day and this subject came up.
anyway, trev’s a retired english teacher with the british council, and has the most amazing accent (how not to love the raspy british accent)– and while he’s usually quite shy, he seems quite taken with the idea to do a reading for us.
right now, as many of you know, one of my favourite love poems is (and it needs no introduction because i’ve posted it no less than 5 times in my own blog).. e.e. cumming’s i carry your heart.
but this poem makes for actually a rather difficult reading owing to the parentheses. i mean, i guess we could get his aunt to read it alongside, but it would make the poem sound rather conversational and remove that romantic element no?
anyway, there is louis mcniece’s meeting point which i have to say, i’ve loved since that fateful valentine’s day in sec 3 where our literature teacher decided to spring a love-poem unseen practical criticism test on us. (my friend, yaQ loves this poem too)
or the poem that is engraved on my ipod nano; and the poem which resides on my desktop (as clarence can attest to); and if i should ever get a tattoo one day, it’d probably be an extraction of a line from this poem: richard lovelace’s to althea from prison. yea, but you know, this poem is so tragically romantic, so unsuitable for a wedding, or any celebration of love, except maybe a funeral (?) i dunno. i love this poem, but it just doesn’t fit. i can imagine my mother’s face– and the shock. heehee.
or a prose reading? i love this excerpt from Ernest Hemingway’s a farewell to arms
At night, there was the feeling that we had come home, feeling no longer alone, waking in the night to find the other one there, and not gone away; all other things were unreal. We slept when we were tired and if we woke the other one woke too so one was not alone. Often a man wishes to be alone and a woman wishes to be alone too and if they love each other they are jealous of that in each other, but I can truly say we never felt that. We could feel alone when we were together, alone against the others. We were never lonely and never afraid when we were together.
other poems for consideration
- Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s how much do i love thee (HINT, PEA… the next lines goes.. “let me count the ways..”)
- Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s love
- Christopher Marlowe’s the passionate shepherd to his love
- Yeats’ Brown Penny
- Yeats’ When you are old
- Robert Benjamin’s my lady love
- Sir Philip Sidney’s my true love has my heart
come come, gimme your favourites!