What I know about love

[PrinceMyshkin]

...could fill a book,
a very large book
beginning, on page one,
with an eager, optimistic ?
followed, on the next page,
by an inquisitive ?
then, perhaps, a somewhat frustrated one,
and so on and so on until
the very last page

which would be blank, of course.

[Granny5]

Very interesting Prince. The end should have several blank pages to be filled in when something exciting happens.

[Sweets America]

I love it, Jer. You know what? I love to read your poetry when I feel down, and since we can interpret poems as we like, you will allow me to think that this one could match my situation right now. I mean, the questions and blank pages... This is not only about love. This is strange how the blank pages can be seen in two different ways: as Granny says, they can be filled with exciting events, so they are full of hope, but on the other hand, they are scary. Emptiness is scary when you are never sure you will find something to fill it with.
Thank you Jerry.

[Granny5]

One never knows what's waiting around the next corner...could be a new love.

[Sweets America]

One never knows what's waiting around the next corner...could be a new love.

Actually I was talking more about something else. The blank pages, to me, are about my professional career and my future in general. It makes me sick. I hate not knowing where I am going. :(

[PrinceMyshkin]

I love it, Jer. You know what? I love to read your poetry when I feel down, and since we can interpret poems as we like, you will allow me to think that this one could match my situation right now.

Of course I can't prevent you or anyone from interpreting any of my poems anyway they wish but what I hope for you is that you will see not only the frustration and sometimes the fear of not knowing what lies ahead of us but also the freedom, the prospect of anything which may of course be a happy surprise...


I mean, the questions and blank pages... This is not only about love. This is strange how the blank pages can be seen in two different ways: as Granny says, they can be filled with exciting events, so they are full of hope, but on the other hand, they are scary. Emptiness is scary when you are never sure you will find something to fill it with.
Thank you Jerry.

But have you ever doubted, I mean really doubted that you were meant for anything but love and happiness?


One never knows what's waiting around the next corner...could be a new love.

Now, is that a nice thing to interject in a dialogue between myself and the French kid?

[TheFifthElement]

...could fill a book,
a very large book
beginning, on page one,
with an eager, optimistic ?
followed, on the next page,
by an inquisitive ?
then, perhaps, a somewhat frustrated one,
and so on and so on until
the very last page

which would be blank, of course.


Or perhaps more appropriately titled 'what I think I know about love, but which will probably later turn out to be wrong'. ;)

In life belief is everything.

Interesting poem Jerry. I like the big question mark. Does that appear on every page, or every other page?

I like that you finished with the blank page. Blank pages are exciting, or unnerving depending on your state of mind.

[PrinceMyshkin]

Or perhaps more appropriately titled 'what I think I know about love, but which will probably later turn out to be wrong'. ;)

In life belief is everything.

Interesting poem Jerry. I like the big question mark. Does that appear on every page, or every other page?

I like that you finished with the blank page. Blank pages are exciting, or unnerving depending on your state of mind.

I imagined a question mark on every page, some of them faint and rather limp, some so angry that they were scratched right through the page. But as for your remark about the blank page, I was reminded of this song by my adored Gilles Vigneault, the unofficial poet laureate of Quebec:


Mon pays ce n'est pas un pays, c'est l'hiver
Mon jardin ce n'est pas un jardin, c'est la plaine
Mon chemin ce n'est pas un chemin, c'est la neige
Mon pays ce n'est pas un pays, c'est l'hiver



My country isn't a country, it's winter
My garden is not a garden, it's the plain
My road is not a road, it's the snow
My country isn't a country, it's winter

Winter, actual winter, or the winter of our lives, stretching out before us like an enormous blank page....

Or read the glorious scene early in The Horse's Mouth in which the obsessed painter, Gulley Jimpson, stands before a blank canvas, contemplating his first brush-stroke...

[Granny5]

Now, is that a nice thing to interject in a dialogue between myself and the French kid?

You know what I mean.

[symphony]

and what about the !s?

[Sweets America]

and what about the !s?

True!! What about them, Jer?

[Scube]

Loved it! Smiled at it! Worked for me.

Scube

[Pendragon]

The Big "?" says it for a lot of us, Jerry!

I have learned this though in 28 years of marriage:
Love is an equation that has to balance, no matter what.
Love does not start today and end tomorrow, but lust might.
Love is often in need of repair, but a pair is what it takes to fix it.
Love is both a question and the answer.
I've done things out of love you couldn't have made me do with a gun to my head.
Sometimes love has to find the strength to let go.
Nothing can hurt me worse than the people I love.

Pen

http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l108/AbsalomKane/Smilies/LoveHeart.gif

[AuntShecky]

"If you asked me
I could write a book
about the way you (something, something)
and look. . ."

by Lorenz Hart who was the lyricist for Pal Joey. Music
by Richard Rodgers.