I think this poem of auisàs mark's is part of "Cants d'amor."

the truthiness of love




Si co • l malalt, qui lonch temps ha que jau

e vol hun jorn    esforçar-se llevar,

e sa virtut   no li pot molt aydar,

ans, llevat dret,    soptament, plegat, cau,

ne pren a mi,   que • m esforç contr • Amor

e vull sequir   toto ço quie mon seny vol

complir no • u pusch,    perquè la força • m tol

un mal estrem   atraçat per Amor.


—Ausiàs March, (1397? - 1459)


As someone on his back for months of illness

would leave the bed one morning; tries and tries

with little help from bone or muscle; striving

upward, he doubles over, cannot rise;

just so with me: I struggle against loving;

wish to believe what thought assures me of,

only cannót, cannót—no strength remaining

after the long infirmity of love.


(translated by john nims)




love is the topic, children

let us begin

it begins with eve

and an apple, and a boy-man

named adam



six thousand years of misery

in which one's heart

pits and pats

followed by sighs and moans


and sometimes little gasps and eeks

such is love

nay, 'tis nothing of the kind

love is sweet words 

meted out, sometimes in meter


sometimes in whimpers

and candy hearts

which demand, or suggest: be mine

yes, that is love

not to be confused 


with what adam felt


it can be, and often is, confused, the two


that they are mutually exclusive


in fact

'tis best when they come hand in hand

that is love

then, what is this

this in particular


'tis another kind of love

'tis a game of sort

when sweet words are followed by barbs

it can be a fun game

when played by consenting adults


sadly, one party is often playing the game

while the other 

would far prefer playing badminton

or, perhaps, croquet

in that case, both suffer



the one suffers conscience

the other injustice

'tis love, children, not the kind we seek



is often confused with something


call infatuation

one is deep, the other is not

but is pleasurable to an extreme degree



'tis often short lived

or, long-lived, but unsatisfying




when one party wakes one morn

to realize

'twas infatuation, not love

then there are more sighs and moans

but no more gasps and eeks


and the world is torn asunder

and tears are shed

which is confirmation that 'twas not love at all

for love is lasting, and grows

yes, caution


to discern between the two is much like

choosing between apples

appearances can deceive

no, not like apples, for the first bite 

may very well be sweet


'tis more like

a retirement account, you pay and pay and pay

only to learn 

when it is too late

that you've done very well


or, sadly, you've done very poorly

in conclusion, children, love is a rainbow

each sees it uniquely

from their own perspective

stand close enough and it appears identical


but it isn't

understand that

be generous, avoid assumptions

apologize often

love is not


as either ali macgraw or ryan o'neal said

never having to say you're sorry

in fact

'tis wise to begin each sentence with an

i'm sorry


as in 

i'm sorry to ask, but . . . 


i'm sorry, i only meant to . . . 



i'm sorry, i shouldn't have . . .


i'm sorry, did you say something . . . 


i'm sorry, it's not your fault



i'm sorry i was ever born

ignore, children, that last remark

it is reserved 

for the direst of lovers


the bell has rung

embrace love, children

but heed this—abandon caution at your peril

though it is best

when you do






Poetry by one trick pony The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 626 times
Written on 2015-08-02 at 07:34

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Jamsbo Rockda The PoetBay support member heart!
What a lovely lesson (no pun intended). You write so many truths here. It should be compulsory reading for all young foolish hearts :)

Fine treatise on the many flavors of love that covers all bases. They say love is a many splendored thing, but maybe it should be splintered thing :)

Thank you for this poem from all of us with a broken heart this morning. ** I'll be writing sad love poems, as per your suggestion, for a while now--so bear with me. :)

Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Travis Bickle: Are you talkin' to me?

Even if you're not, it's an amusing tutorial.