Happy Valentine's Day 2012!

I found this beautiful nostalgic Valentine's wrapping paper
at a cool Portland stationary store: Papier Gourmet

Every year on Valentine's day I try to find an e. e. cummings poem to put in Matt's card.  I find his poetry so stirring, so beautifully composed and so unique.   

I just hate trite, overused and boring love poetry.  It's almost like a slap in the face to the idea of poetic expression.  That said, I see nothing wrong with buying things like pez dispensers and Russel Stover chocolates as a Valentine's Day gift.  Love doesn't have to be pretentious and expensive - it just has to be genuine.  And I don't care what crazy materialistic conspiracy theories the hipsters of Portland may spout - and I definitely do not agree with the decision by Roman's school to not allow Valentines or treats - I simply cannot find anything wrong with devoting one day a year to telling the special people in your life - friends, family, lovers - that you love them.  That's all.

Roman's Kermit Pez dispenser and gifts awaiting his return from school.

To that tune, this year I happened on a poem of cummings' that I'd never read, which is odd because I thought I'd read them all.  I didn't use this one for Matt's card but I loved it so much that I thought I'd offer it up anyway as a small inspiration for a day which, fantastically and quite simply, celebrates love. :)

* * *

dive for dreams

dive for dreams
or a slogan may topple you
(trees are their roots
and wind is wind)
trust your heart
if the seas catch fire
(and live by love
though the stars walk backward)
honour the past
but welcome the future
(and dance your death
away at the wedding)
never mind a world
with its villains or heroes
(for good likes girls
and tomorrow and the earth)
in spite of everything
which breathes and moves, since Doom
(with white longest hands
neating each crease)
will smooth entirely our minds
-before leaving my room
i turn, and (stooping
through the morning) kiss
this pillow, dear
where our heads lived and were.

silently if, out of not knowable

silently if, out of not knowable
night's utmost nothing,wanders a little guess
(only which is this world)more my life does
not leap than with the mystery your smile
sings or if(spiralling as luminous
they climb oblivion)voices who are dreams,
less into heaven certainly earth swims
than each my deeper death becomes your kiss
losing through you what seemed myself,i find
selves unimaginably mine;beyond
sorrow's own joys and hoping's very fears
yours is the light by which my spirit's born:
yours is the darkness of my soul's return
-you are my sun,my moon,and all my stars

- e.e. cummings