{"id":320,"date":"2011-03-26T21:00:57","date_gmt":"2011-03-27T01:00:57","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/blog.sherryquanlee.com\/?p=320"},"modified":"2011-03-26T21:00:57","modified_gmt":"2011-03-27T01:00:57","slug":"a-diary-of-love-poems","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/blog.sherryquanlee.com\/?p=320","title":{"rendered":"A Diary of Love Poems"},"content":{"rendered":"

I was at a friend’s poetry reading last night.\u00a0 What is the question we writers always ask each other, but don’t like to be asked?\u00a0 Are you writing? <\/em>A friend asked, how is your book of love poems comin’ along<\/em>?\u00a0 Silence.\u00a0 I haven’t been writing.\u00a0 No lover, no love<\/em>.\u00a0 Wait.\u00a0 That’s a lousy excuse.\u00a0 It’s been a long winter<\/em>.\u00a0 Not an excuse–actually, it’s a reason I should have been writing.\u00a0 But I don’t own guilt or shame.\u00a0 I write when I write.\u00a0 Today, I wrote.\u00a0 I wrote silly little love poems.\u00a0 I wrote to write.\u00a0 I hoped being vulnerable would allow creativity to flow and something interesting, even one line or one word, would appear.\u00a0 Perhaps, it did.<\/p>\n

When you are ready, pick a topic AND WRITE (until your sister calls and she tells you it’s 7 pm and you suddenly realize you haven’t eaten all day and you are hungry).<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Note:\u00a0 illusive or ilusury?<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Beauty of the Beast<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I should have a diary of love poems, a page\/<\/p>\n

a poem for each love\/each lover each year<\/p>\n

each month each week each night<\/p>\n

I have broken bread with beauty and<\/p>\n

with the beast.\u00a0 I always loved the loving. Always<\/p>\n

loved the movement of the moment, the song-<\/p>\n

breathing high notes and then the low notes, and<\/p>\n

again the high notes; the music mindful of the giving<\/p>\n

of the taking.\u00a0 Heart to head, hand to thigh no<\/p>\n

thoughts of time.\u00a0 No time to expect or to regret.<\/p>\n

Only me\/ not you.\u00a0 I am trying not to satisfy<\/p>\n

or criticize or control.\u00a0 Just doin\u2019 what<\/p>\n

makes me happy.\u00a0 No poem written after\/<\/p>\n

or before captures the love\/the loving<\/p>\n

there is no diary.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

<\/strong><\/p>\n

Narrative for an online dating site:<\/strong><\/p>\n


\n<\/strong><\/p>\n

<\/strong><\/p>\n

She likes bowling.\u00a0 She doesn\u2019t like biking.<\/p>\n

She likes birds.\u00a0 She doesn\u2019t like worms.<\/p>\n

She likes boating.\u00a0 She doesn\u2019t like swimming.<\/p>\n

She likes chocolate.\u00a0 She doesn\u2019t like coconut.<\/p>\n

She likes rhythm and blues.\u00a0 She doesn\u2019t like opera.<\/p>\n

She likes motorcycles. She doesn\u2019t like riding them.<\/p>\n

She likes funky.\u00a0 She doesn\u2019t like not funky.<\/p>\n

She likes dogs.\u00a0 She doesn\u2019t like cats.<\/p>\n

She likes shoes.\u00a0 She doesn\u2019t like socks.<\/p>\n

She likes sunshine.\u00a0 She doesn\u2019t like rain.<\/p>\n

She likes walking.\u00a0 She doesn\u2019t like hiking.<\/p>\n

She likes Santa Clause. She doesn\u2019t like the Easter Bunny.<\/p>\n

She likes coffee, black.\u00a0 She doesn\u2019t like sugar and cream.<\/p>\n

She likes movies.\u00a0 She doesn\u2019t like television.<\/p>\n

She likes red.\u00a0 She doesn\u2019t like yellow.<\/p>\n

She likes libraries. She doesn\u2019t like museums.<\/p>\n

She likes memoir.\u00a0 She doesn\u2019t like autobiography.<\/p>\n

She likes talking.\u00a0 She doesn\u2019t like listening.<\/p>\n

She likes mustard.\u00a0 She doesn\u2019t like ketchup.<\/p>\n

She likes meat.\u00a0 She doesn\u2019t like vegetables.<\/p>\n

She likes hotels.\u00a0 She doesn\u2019t like camping.<\/p>\n

She likes wine.\u00a0 She doesn\u2019t like whiskey.<\/p>\n

She doesn\u2019t like biking, hiking, camping, or golf-men who like younger women, or casual relationships.\u00a0 She likes a cigarette now and again.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Love is<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

like the loaves and the fishes, one damn miracle after another<\/p>\n

it is the emperor with no clothes, nothing to hide; it is the frog<\/p>\n

not the prince.\u00a0 Love is the family not the dysfunction,<\/p>\n

the children and the grandchildren.\u00a0 Love is the future. Love<\/p>\n

is the spoken and the unspoken\u00ad\u2014vulnerability and trust.<\/p>\n

Love is awareness and action, not reaction.\u00a0 Love is to be afraid<\/p>\n

but still take a risk.\u00a0 Love is the bird and the worm.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Imaginary 60-Year-Old Lover<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u2014thanks to A. M.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

You are:<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

responsible<\/p>\n

accountable<\/p>\n

mature<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

generous<\/p>\n

kind<\/p>\n

thoughtful<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

social<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

socially aware<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

skilled<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

active<\/p>\n

playful<\/p>\n

spontaneous<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

You laugh and smile and are<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

trustworthy<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

humble<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

forgiving<\/p>\n

and you can\u2019t live without me<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I\u2019ve got to love this silly love poem<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

because maybe it will love me back.<\/p>\n

I will give it all I\u2019ve got, but maybe<\/p>\n

that won\u2019t be enough. Nikki Giovanni<\/p>\n

is the goddess of love poems, I want<\/p>\n

to be a goddess of love.\u00a0 Silly poem<\/p>\n

speak to me; I\u2019m listening.\u00a0 Rise above<\/p>\n

clich\u00e9 and personal debauchery, deliver<\/p>\n

substance and sustenance, sing to me.<\/p>\n

Silly little love poem hear my wanton<\/p>\n

cry and hit me with your best shot1<\/sup><\/em><\/p>\n

an arrow to the gut of lonely, the heart<\/p>\n

of sorrow.\u00a0 Silly poem we\u2019re stagnant,<\/p>\n

we\u2019re in doo-doo deep and dirty.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

1.”Hit Me with Your Best Shot<\/strong>” is a song written by Canadian singer\/songwriter Eddie Schwartz<\/a> and recorded by American singer Pat Benatar<\/a> in 1979\u2014Wikipedia<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I said \u201cthere is nothing left but love\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u2014after 9\/11<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

but love is scarce while hate is abundant<\/em><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

no, hate is arrogant, love is unassuming<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

where are the lovers?<\/em><\/p>\n

<\/em><\/p>\n

in coffee houses writing poetry about love and war<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

why is there war?<\/em><\/p>\n

<\/em><\/p>\n

to create fear<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

<\/em><\/p>\n

what are we afraid of?<\/em><\/p>\n

<\/em><\/p>\n

hunger<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

why are the children hungry?<\/em><\/p>\n

<\/em><\/p>\n

wars are raging<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

where is the love?<\/em><\/p>\n

<\/em><\/p>\n

fighting and fleeing war<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

what is love?<\/em><\/p>\n

<\/em><\/p>\n

passion, compassion\u2014revolution<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

how many poets, how many poems, how much war, how many revolutions<\/em><\/p>\n

before love wins, hunger disappears, and poems are sweet-tempered?<\/em><\/p>\n

<\/em><\/p>\n

<\/em><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I Said I Would Stay Home Today<\/strong><\/p>\n


\n<\/strong><\/p>\n

<\/em><\/p>\n

and write love poems instead of chasing<\/p>\n

the illusury lover or running from her;<\/p>\n

instead of escaping the desire for love<\/p>\n

by shopping or eating or playing the slots.<\/p>\n

I thought I would stay home today and<\/p>\n

imagine love to be something not to give<\/p>\n

or to get, but to imagine it is heart like<\/p>\n

tree, like sky, like earth, like bird; but,<\/p>\n

there is interference.\u00a0 There is blizzard,<\/p>\n

there is thunder and storm, earthquake<\/p>\n

and tsunami.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

There is illness, destruction and death.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Above poems by Sherry Quan Lee, first draft only draft, rrrruff draftSaturday, March 26, 2011<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

What is the question we writers always ask each other, but don’t like to be asked? Are you writing?<\/p>\n

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