Poetic Paradox

woman reading Anton-faistauer

 

 

 

If unrequited love became
A love profound and true,
How bitter would one’s life become
How mournful, empty, blue.
Without love unattainable
No piercing pain complete
Would fuel the pen for poetry
And make the words accrete.
For love can be a thorny path
Walked barefoot in the gloom
And when we fall and break our heart
A poem helps heal the wound.

67 thoughts on “Poetic Paradox

  1. “And when we fall and break our heart
    A poem helps heal the wound.” , , , such a pleasure Mike 🙂 you capture a truth in your poem once again. We will inevitably fall, and our hearts will break, again, but no half sentences of devoted friends can heal, like the words of a poet, who can express our pain – enchanting as usual x

  2. Love can be a thorny path, indeed… Even more when unrequited love becomes a love profound and true. ⭐ Excellent poem, dear Mike! All the best to you, Aquileana 🙂

  3. Beautifully written! Beneath the beauty of the verses your have created here, are some truly interesting and intense observations and thoughts. Without a “thorny patch” can we write from the heart, and can words completely comfort the heartbroken poet? Mike, this poem is truly lovely on so many levels, thank you!

    Warm wishes,
    Pepperanne

    • I can remember times when if not for a poet’s companionship I’d have paid good money for magical potions to salve the pain Björn . Thank you for this very appropriate contribution.

    • Thanks Tiny, the strength of that argument is under debate in this column and the realists are currently trouncing the romantics. Bring it on! 😀

    • I haven’t read that Julie but I just googled reviews and quotations abound so I’ve listed it. Thanks for your own very quotable comment 🙂

  4. Unrequited love that is suddenly requited should set alarm bells ringing 🙂 Nice romantic notion aptly rhymed romantically except in the last quatrain (?) where it’s a half rhyme and emminently suitable for a half truth. Great stuff as usual.

  5. An interesting poem, Mike, that I read several times to get the true essence…beautifully done with a lovely rhythm and a light touch of alliteration.

    • Thanks Audrey and yes, the theme provides plenty ammunition for a poet. The notion of such a sacrificial state is outdated now but luckily we can suspend reality for the duration of a few lines. Your take on this is more accurate 🙂

  6. I can and do admire the sensitivity of the romantic poet that you are Mike.
    The delicate wistfulness is barely hidden behind the denied thoughts in this work.
    I can vouch for the exquisite pain and wretched helplessness of unrequited love.
    And I can even claim a few verses of some beauty as a result of such a love… but if I may be bold, truthful, or at least honest and share my wholehearted conviction (with a smidgen of brutal eloquence that only another romantic might express), I think unrequited love is a bitch.

    • You are one of only two commentators brave enough to remind me that Romanticism is a delusional ‘ignis fatuus’ of exaggerated overwrought emotion by hero-types intent on measuring their love by the weight of a quantity of tears measured by their own patented Pain Guage. But thank you Emmy for playing along with the notion for a little while, for such is the heart of a true poet. Aristotle famously praised, “the ability to entertain a thought without accepting it” (or something like that anywho). As a measure of my appreciation for this feedback Emmy your words have earned a place in my Top Ten comments for 2015 🙂

    • You have seen through me Jackie and exposed this poseur in his fantasy of Romanticism, bleeding his heart onto the ink-splotted page of his pitiful existence – you hussy! “P

  7. Ah,… how true, Mike! If all went well, there would be no love songs. And even after love’s sweet pain, with all our finger’s burned, we’ll gladly fall in love again, because we never learn?

Whaddya think?

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