Tiny Poem Tuesday, Love
Let's gather and read tiny poems about love from Anna Swirszczynska, Stacey Balkun, and Linda Gregg.
Hello gatherers and happy Tiny Poem Tuesday! Daylight savings is kicking my butt this year and the early evenings here in Boston are bringing me down. I’ve dusted off my happy light that I sun myself next to in the mornings; I’m reading and journaling; I’m indulging in the activities that bring me joy. In honor of bringing light to my life right now and in honor of the upcoming (American) Thanksgiving holiday, I gathered three tiny poems about love for us to read and enjoy today.
I had the great pleasure of meeting some lovely subscribers this past weekend and spending a few hours with gathering co-creator and writer Maya. I dedicate these poems to you lovely humans.
To all of you who have stayed with this newsletter for the last year, thank you. I hope this letter is finding you and I hope that it is making you well.
This poem is by Russian poet Anna Swirszczynska (translated by Czeslaw Milosz and Leonard Nathan).
A quick side note: every time I read a translated work, I wish I could read the original text. I wish I knew all of the languages and their nuances and could see how brilliant Swir is in her native language.
Swir uses the title of her poem as the first line and uses this repetition to emphasize the focus of the poem: what is it like to be full of love? The entire poem is analogies. A great tree can be filled with wind when it rushes through its leaves and you hear the chorus of their rustling. A sponge is filled by the ocean, surrounded by it, permeated by the saltwater in every one of its small holes. A great life, despite its grandeur, is full of suffering—sad moments that make the good ones shine. In the end, Swir compares her capacity for love with the two things that are inevitable: the forward motion of time and death. I love the spectrum of analogies that Swir uses in this poem—from the gentle beauty of leaves blowing in the wind to the certainty of death as time moves forward. This is a deep love, and a sure one.
Stacey Balkun opens this poem addressing her love. We know that “she” is the narrator’s object of affection, and “she” considers the river a monster. But how could something so natural and normal be a monster? This title sets the poem up to be dark, foreshadowing death or destruction. I appreciate Balkun’s choice to open this poem in this perspective, alluding a sense of foreboding. The poem then subverts the expectation of the reader. The river does what all rivers do: it cuts through the land. Despite its destruction and power, the river doesn’t use its abilities to bring the narrator’s house closer to her love’s. Her love names it a monster. I love the call and response feel of this poem—the title presenting a question and the poem answering.
Our final poem for today is “Growing Up” by Linda Gregg. Some important context: Li Po is an 8th century Chinese poet who spent much of his life in exile, wandering the world and writing poetry (and if you are interested, you can read some of his poetry here). He writes a lot of observational poetry. He writes about the people that he sees and what they do, what he imagines they are thinking, what their motivations are. He writes about nature. Gregg is reading Po’s poetry, indulging in the lives of other people and the beauty of the natural world’ through Po’s words. She has the TV on and the sound off so she can focus.
Considering the title of this poem, the line “I’ve seen this movie before” suggests that the movie she is watching is one she watched growing up. Perhaps it is one she can quote from memory; maybe it is something she has just seen once. Regardless, she knows when it’s time for the man on screen to say “I love you.” She turns on the sound for a moment, leaving Po behind to hear this romantic proclamation. Why is this scene so important to her? What does this remind her of? Why does she turn the movie (or sound) off after? Does this show that she has grown up, or is the act of watching that scene a sign that she is still growing up? I love the mystery of this poem, and I love that Gregg only gives us a small window into her world—a sliver of love.
Maybe she just needed to hear someone say “I love you” and imagine it was for her.
For those who celebrate, have a happy Thanksgiving that I hope is full of good food, friends, and family. I’m sending you my love, no matter how far away you are.
If you enjoyed these poems… you can read more from Anna Swirszczynska, Stacey Balkun, and Linda Gregg here.
If you are wondering… I am not religious, but I do recite this grace from the movie Catch Me If You Can every year before dinner.
If you want to try writing poetry… write a poem about what you are thankful for, or about what you love.