Life Experience
The hottest day recorded.
Towards ten at night
The rain started.
We walked out
Into the garden, naked,
enjoying the refreshing rain.
The lawn was squelchy
underfoot.
We lay down together,
and
made mud.
From Poems about love. How could you know?
Read more? Amazon book or Kindle download
Fifty kinds of love is the longest poem in Poems about love.
It is full of ideas and observations – some serious, some appearing to be “just playing with words”. The strange thing is that in the jokey parts there are often things that you would recognise as true.
The poem is divided up into numerous topics. I’ll start with two in this posting – Young love and The highs and lows of love.
Love without a care.
Love without caution.
Love without commitment.
Love without a risk assessment.
Love without a care.
Love in the fresh air.
Love where the grass is greener.
Love in pastures new.
Love where the air is cleaner.
Love where the sky is blue.
Love at the crossroads.
Love that’s an uphill struggle.
Love that’s on the way up!
Love on a mountain top.
Love on a slippery slope.
Love that’s downhill from now on.
Love that’s without hope,
though hope lingers on.
Love
that’s the end of the road.
Comments and questions welcomed
FACEBOOK LINK
Read all the poems
You can read all the poems in the book by buying or downloading it on Amazon. LINK.
If you get the book please give it a star rating. I’d love some feedback so I’d really welcome comments on the book.
More background and poems to follow in future blog articles.
Never give all the heart, for love
Will hardly seem worth thinking of
To passionate women if it seem
Certain, and they never dream
That it fades out from kiss to kiss;
For everything that’s lovely is
But a brief, dreamy, kind delight.
O never give the heart outright,
For they, for all smooth lips can say,
Have given their hearts up to the play.
And who could play it well enough
If deaf and dumb and blind with love?
He that made this knows all the cost,
For he gave all his heart and lost.
W. B. Yeats 1865 – 1939
The poem’s warning
This poem is advice on love from the poet William Butler Yeats. The basic message is quite clear. He advises that one should never allow oneself to be completely in love with anyone and I am assuming that he would wish his advice to apply equally to men and women even though the poem is clearly addressed to men.
Reasons given
Yeats’s stated reason for being reserved in one’s feelings of love is based on his understanding of the psychology of women. The idea he seems to present is that if a woman is certain of a man’s affection she will lose interest. I assume that he believes that the roles could be reversed, and it may be true sometimes that someone who is overconfident in the devotion of a friend, or lover or partner, may have less respect for that person or may take advantage of the unequal strengths of feeling or may feel that the passion they are faced with is just too much to cope with.
But his idea is not very clear because he is suggesting that women do not anticipate that feelings of love may lose their intensity. He says,.”they never dream/ That it fades out from kiss to kiss.” Surely love may also grow stronger in time, just as it may fade away! And has this anything to do with his argument? I don’t think so.
His next comment isn’t logically connected to what has gone before, but is simply a comment on pleasure “For everything that’s lovely is/ But a brief, dreamy, kind delight.” This is hardly relevant, and in any case, is not always true. Does “kind” mean anything here? Is there such a thing as “an unkind delight”?
Then there is a further comment on women in love and how they will behave. “For they, for all smooth lips can say,/ Have given their hearts up to the play.” He is suggesting that in love women know how to play the game of love, or treat love as a game. This seems to be a general comment on the sincerity of women who are in love. It is just a game to them. I don’t think it is reasonable or accurate to make such a generalisation. Surely in a situation in which the strength of feeling between two people is markedly different the disappointment of one may lead to resentment and speculation about the motives of the other person. He is searching for an explanation but doesn’t actually understand what is happening.
“And who could play it well enough/ If deaf and dumb and blind with love?” So a person completely in love with a woman would hardly have a chance to be loved in return because they would be too emotionally committed to be restrained or calculating. Such a person is Yeats himself as he now makes clear.
The final two lines are a strong statement that the poet really knows what he is talking about because he has lost out in a game of love. He didn’t play the game well and as a consequence got hurt or didn’t succeed in gaining the affection of the one he loved. “He that made this knows all the cost,/ For he gave all his heart and lost.”
Don’t believe everything you read in a poem. There is a deeply felt truth in this poem but it is padded out with misunderstandings and imaginings.
The basis of Never give all the heart
Biographical records show that Yeats met the beautiful Maud Gonne in 1889 when he was 24. She was eighteen months younger. It is Maud that Yeats, in his own words, fell obsessively in love with.
[There is a photo of Maud Gonne at the end of this article.]
They had several enduring interests in common: interests in poetry, literature, the theatre, spiritualism and especially Irish Nationalism. (The present Irish Republic was part of Britain at that time.) Both wished to see Ireland independent from England, but Maud Gonne was much more committed to the cause of Irish Nationalism than Yeats. She was in favour of armed opposition to English rule. She organised pressure groups and was prominent in anti-English campaigns and protests.
Yeats proposed marriage to Maud on five occasions: 1891, 1899, 1900, 1901, 1916. One may wonder why he suffered so many rejections, but the problem may have lain in the fact that although all his marriage proposals were rejected he was not rejected as a person. In fact there was mutual admiration, common interests, mutual affection. Maud did not tell Yeats to go away and leave her alone. He featured her in his poetry and plays and as an actress she acted in at least one of his plays.
It may be that there was not that necessary physical spark of desire on her part. She wanted Yeats to join her as a Catholic and she wanted him to be more strongly committed to campaigning for Irish Independence. These two matters were extremely important to her.
How their relationship evolved
Their relationship was punctuated by some significant events.
1887 Maud Gonne inherited trust funds in excess of £13,000.
1889 Yeats met Maud Gonne
1890 Maud Gonne met a married man, French right wing journalist, Lucien Millevoye.
1891 Yeats first proposed to Maud Gonne.
1893 Maud began an affair with Millevoye. They had a baby, Georges, who died after a few months to the mother’s extreme distress. Gonne and Millevoye separated. Gonne had a memorial chapel built for the baby at Samois-sur-Seine near Paris. Gonne wanted another baby to replace the first and wanted the soul of Georges to transmigrate into a new baby. To help to achieve this she wanted Millevoye to be the father of the second baby and to conceive the baby by having sex beside Georges’ sarcophagus, so the couple met again for this purpose.
1894 the second baby, Iseult, was born.
1894 Yeats met Olivia Shakespear, a married woman.
1895 .Yeats began his first intimate relationship with a woman, Olivia Shakespear. He wrote, “after all if I could not get the woman I loved it would be a comfort for a little while to devote myself to another.” and “at last she came to me in my thirtieth year …. and we had many days of happiness.”
1897 Spring, the affair ended because it was apparent to Olivia that Yeats loved someone else.
1899 Second proposal to Maud Gonne.
1900 Third proposal to Maud Gonne.
1903 Maud Gonne married Major John McBride. Yeats hated John McBride.
1904 Sean McBride was born
1905 The marriage was ended.
1908 Yeats met Maud Gonne in Paris and they had sex together for the first and last time. It satisfied neither of them. He wrote that that “the tragedy of sexual intercourse is the perpetual virginity of the soul.” They were not as one. She wrote a declaration of love, attraction and rejection! “I have prayed so hard to have all earthly desire taken from my love for you and dearest, loving you as I do, I have prayed and I am praying still that the bodily desire for me may be taken from you too.”
When Yeats told her he was not happy without her, she replied, “Oh yes, you are, because you make beautiful poetry out of what you call your unhappiness and are happy in that. Marriage would be such a dull affair. Poets should never marry. The world should thank me for not marrying you” [Jeffares, A. Norman (1988). W. B. Yeats, a new biography. London and New York: Continuum. p. 102.] Date of this remark is uncertain.
1916 Armed uprising in Dublin against the English. John McBride was arrested as one of the key conspirators and was executed. Later Yeats was called on to write a poem to commemorate the heroes of the valiant uprising. In view of his feelings he did this with extraordinary skill.
1916 Yeats, 51 years old, final proposal to Maud. Final rejection.
1916 Yeats’s proposal to Maud’s daughter, Iseult age 22. She rejected him.
1917 Yeats’ proposal to Georgie Hyde-Lees age 25. Their marriage was happy and they had two children, Anne and Michael. Yeats had several affairs during their marriage.
1922 Ireland became an independent republic.
1922 Yeats, by now a celebrated public figure, was appointed to the first Irish Senate. In a debate on divorce he had this to say “Marriage is not to us a sacrament, but, upon the other hand, the love of a man and woman, and the inseparable physical desire, are sacred. This conviction has come to us through ancient philosophy and modern literature, and it seems to us a most sacrilegious thing to persuade two people who hate each other… to live together, and it is to us no remedy to permit them to part if neither can re-marry.” [Foster, W B Yeats, A Life, 2003 p 294]
1923 Yeats awarded the Nobel prize for Literature
1934 Yeats, age 68 had an operation which ”rejuvenated him”. He had several affairs with young women.
1939 Yeats died age 73.
Conclusion
It appears that Yeats’s fascination with Maud Gonne lasted for about three decades. The reason for her rejections of his marriage proposals does not appear to be because he was besotted with her (“gave all his heart”) or that she was playing some sort of game with him, or deliberately manipulating him, or that she didn’t understand that “love fades out from kiss to kiss” but something much deeper – that they were not physically or ideologically quite in tune with each other and that her true passion was the cause of Irish independence.
He seemed to be unable to appreciate her different perceptions of him and life. She continued her interest in him and even stated affection for him for many years which must have made it very difficult for him to “forget her and move on.” At any time he could have abandoned his association with her. Her response to him was clear and consistent. It may be noted that she seemed to have a problem with sustaining a relationship with a man.
Why did he propose so many times? Even before the first proposal he must have had a good idea about how close their relationship was and was not. And subsequent proposals look as if he was lining himself up for humiliation. Was the problem not with Maud Gonne or the nature of “passionate women” as he understood them but his own inflexibility, his lack of ability to accept reality or even a masochistic pleasure in being hurt? Maud Gonne’s comment quoted in the 1908 section above seems to hint at this.
It seems that Maud Gonne enriched Yeats’s life by their association whilst at the same time leaving him in torment.
He wrote, in 1916 in No second Troy, presumably about her,
Why should I blame her that she filled my days
With misery,
Poor Yeats.
The wisdom of W B Yeats
What was he to do? He gave all his heart and lost. Does he convince us that total love for one person is a recipe for a life of torment? Surely if the feelings of two people are mutual then there is everything to gain from a shared attraction. In his case the reason that he “lost” may have been that he and Gonne appeared to lack a strong physical attraction, and a unity of shared feelings and ideals. The problem, in his case, was not “passionate women” but his inflexible, immature and masochistic nature. The sadness of the poem comes not from his account of the pain of rejection but from the sadness that Yeats’s had such an immature personality which brought him a life of misery.
It often happens that in romantic relationships the strength of feeling may be much stronger on one side than the other and this can certainly lead to discomfort and often rejection by the one who may feel overwhelmed or suffocated by an unwanted show of passion. To this extent giving “all the heart” may lead to rejection and “loss” but with balanced individuals this does not lead inevitably to a life of misery.
My own collection of poems about love addresses the issue which Yeats considers in his poem, Never Give All The Heart.
One very long poem called 50 kinds of love is admittedly very prosaic and is hardly more than a long list. However, I believe it makes a number of valid observations about love. One section is entitled, Unbalanced love.
Another section. which is related, is about expressing affection to someone who may not be expecting it and may be a little shocked by the expression of love. This is Love that moves too fast.
About Unbalanced love
In my youth I can remember myself being quite put off a girl who seemed to want to take me over when I hardly knew her and I ended the relationship. She was very tearful and I felt very mean. Perhaps I should have been more patient and cautious.
From 50 kinds of love – part of the list
Unbalanced love
The need-to-be-loved love
that’s unequal to the task of love.
Love that hasn’t got its head screwed on.
Weak and needy love.
Love that’s just plain wrong.
The I-love-you-so-much-why-don’t-you-love-me love?
Love that cannot handle love.
Love that’s out of control.
Love that’s a sticking plaster.
Love that’s a disaster.
Love that’s an own goal.
About Love that moves too fast
It can happen that simply expressing one’s feelings too soon or too strongly may surprise or shock or “put off” the other person in a new or developing relationship. The alternative, avoiding this risk by not expressing one’s feelings may also produce unintended consequences because silence may give the impression of not really liking the other person. This is discouragement by other means.
From 50 kinds of love
Love that moves too fast
Love that moves too fast
and shows its hand too early
and put its foot in it,
and is, perhaps, a step too far,
or maybe just a slip of the tongue.
A footnote to Yeats’s life
Yeats died in the south of France in 1939 and was buried there. He wished his remains to be buried in County Sligo in Ireland. In 1948 his remains were dug up and assembled. There seems to have been some doubt about the authenticity of the bones. He was reburied in County Sligo. The person in charge of this operation working for the Irish Government was the Minister for External Affairs, Sean McBride, the son of Maud Gonne.
I’d be interested to hear your view on the ideas expressed in this article. You can comment either on facebook or my blog.
FACEBOOK LINK
Read all the poems in Poems about love
You can read all the poems in Poems about love by buying or downloading it on Amazon. LINK.More about Poems about love
If you get the book please give it a star rating. I’d love some feedback so I’d really welcome comments on the book.
More comments, background and poems to follow in future blog articles.
Maud Gonne, friend of W B Yeats, campaigner for Irish Independence, actress.
Olivia Shakespeare, friend of W B Yeats (1895), Literary Salon hostess late 19th century/early twentieth century, novelist.
Here is the text of the poem, and the third of a series of comments on the ideas behind poems in Poems About Love.
Here I comment on the second part of the poem.
When push comes to shove
marriage is not about love.
And a wedding
is not “the happy ending”.
It is the beginning
of a long journey
with a contract to travel for the rest of your life
with someone you hardly know
by a route and towards a destination
that no-one knows.
2004 and 1 January 2023
Behind many poems in Poems about love lie events that set me thinking.
I discussed the opening of this poem in an earlier post.
Marriage – comment 2
Of course, every mature person knows that “a wedding is not the happy ending”.
Yet weddings are so often treated as an end-of-story event, the culmination of years of hope and striving, a glorious achievement to be celebrated with no expense spared, as if the wedding is the real life fairy tale come true and the beaming couple will “live together,happy ever after”.
Most marriages are of relatively young people (under 35?) with little experience of life. It struck me that the marriage commitment was the greatest undertaking two people might ever make in their lives, yet their knowledge of each other, the world, how they and the world might change in the future was very slight.
Weddings, therefore, are the beginnings of very risky enterprises.
So it surprises me that so many marriages can be described as happy or successful.
The poem raises the very important question of what does a happy marriage depend on in the face of so many unknowns?
Those marriages that are successful can’t put it all down to the common explanation that it was “luck”.
Although, having good health, having a good and reliable income, and living in a safe and prospering country – much of which is beyond personal control – is certainly a kind of luck that helps towards a happy marriage and a happy life.
What does it takes to make a marriage work? What is needed beyond a mutual attraction, mutual desire, “being in love”?
It would be interesting to compile a list of readers’ ideas.
One suggestion is that having a common interest is often a key factor, but in our village there is a woman, Bryony Hill, who was married to the famous football player and pundit, Jimmy Hill. She hated football. Her theory about their very happy relationship was that they got on so well together “because we were so different.”
I’d be interested to hear your view on this topic? You can comment either on facebook or my blog.
FACEBOOK LINK
Read all the poems
You can read all the poems in the book by buying or downloading it on Amazon. LINK.If you get the book please give it a star rating. I’d love some feedback so I’d really welcome comments on the book.
More comments and background and poems to follow in future blog articles.
You will probably remember that my publishing company was almost destroyed by a combination of things, covid, the tragic bankruptcy of my distributor (Vine House Distribution), the takeover of the warehousing company where our books were stored.
The latter’s new owners, who stored millions of books for the UK’s largest publishers, decided to combine the stock held in various warehouses and store in one mega warehouse. The transfer of so many books and the keeping of accurate records of the ownership of every box to be moved was a major logistics challenge.
Unfortunately, in the process of moving hundreds of lorry loads of boxes of books across the country and relocating stock in the new warehouse, the precise warehouse locations of many of the books belonging to Saxon Books were not recorded. In other words, HUNDREDS OF BOOKS WERE LOST!
They have now been found and are back on sale!
We are currently plant-sitting for friends who have gone on holiday. One of the plants we have been entrusted with is a cactus. We were told that this cactus was about to produce a flower and that the flower would last only one day. To me it seemed a very sad idea that it should be so brilliant but last such a short time – a bit like love and life, I thought.
Cactus flower day 2. Almost gone
Cactus flower, day three. Gone!
The last train
All things must change.
Sunshine turns to rain.
Lovers become estranged.
Tonight I think
the final kiss.
I didn’t want it
to end like this.
You’ve changed.
You didn’t explain.
You didn’t confess.
Perhaps I can guess.
What do I care?
But I do care.
I step out
into the rain.
Empty streets,
empty heart.
I feel
that too familiar pain
and tears
on my cheeks.
I can feel
my heart beat.
Just time
to catch the last train.
All things must change.
Sunshine turns to rain.
Lovers become estranged.
10 July 2007, 25 August 2016, 2 January 2019
I’ve caught a number of late night ” last trains” from London over many years. The atmosphere in vast railway stations late at night is always a bit bleak. It’s more than just the end of a day, it’s a cavern of emptiness and the last train pulling out of the station . . . It seems the obvious place for a film scene of “a final kiss”.
The idea of “a last kiss” makes me reflect on the transience of everything human.
Your thoughts?
I’d be interested to hear ideas, thoughts, feelings that this poem might bring into your mind. You could write on my facebook page or my blog.
FACEBOOK LINK
Read all the poems in Poems about love – How could you know?
You can read all the poems in the book by buying or downloading it on Amazon. LINK.
Please help
If you get the book please give it a star rating. I’d love some feedback so I’d really welcome comments on the book.
More of my comments, background explanations and poems to follow in future blog articles.
Here is the text of the poem, and the first of a series of background infos and comments on the ideas behind poems in Poems about love – Where did the ideas for the poem come from? etc
When push comes to shove
marriage is not about love.
And a wedding
is not “the happy ending”.
It is the beginning
of a long journey
with a contract to travel for the rest of your life
with someone you hardly know
by a route and towards a destination
that no-one knows.
2004 and 1 January 2023
Behind many poems in Poems about love lie events that set me thinking.
Marriage is one example
In this case the key line is the second line that asserts “marriage is not about love”. This was actually a statement made to me by my father when I was a young teenager.
He was not, himself, an expert on the subject of marriage because it was very clear to us children that our parents were very unhappily married – living together but sad and far apart.
Nevertheless, he could see what other people were doing and maybe guess what it was that led to a marriage that was “happy” or “fulfilled” or “successful”.
I didn’t know, till many years after I left home that he had a relationship with another woman and that may have inspired his remark. She actually worked for him and with him.
He maintained that what was needed to make “a successful marriage” was an ability to work together.
Obviously marriage is much more than this but my experience suggests that it is a key ingredient.
I’d be interested to hear your view on this topic? Do let me know, either on facebook or my blog.
FACEBOOK LINK
Read all the poems
You can read all the poems in the book by buying or downloading it on Amazon. LINK.If you get the book please give it a star rating. I’d love some feedback so I’d really welcome comments on the book.
More comments and background and poems to follow in future blog articles.
Published as How could you know? – Poems about love, it is now Poems about love – How could you know?
Why the change? It’s to do with the way people search for books on Amazon and search engines in general. If someone is looking for a book of love poems they are more likely to look for the words “love poems” rather than “how could you know?” Why didn’t I think of this in the first place?
Personal relationships
Poems about love is about love and personal relationships.
Although the book was put together in a few days it actually took over fifty years to write.
Looking through old notebooks containing thoughts, observations, poems I discovered I’d written a lot about personal relationships, the way we humans connect with each other, live with each other, procreate, develop interests and lives together, and often change, lose enchantment, disagree, even hate each other and fall apart.
Also, how many people don’t feel love, feel excluded from it and develop different strategies for life and attitudes towards people.
What guides all this activity? What instincts, thoughts, principles, rules, social expectations and controls? What leads to “success” and happiness or causes failure and unhappiness? – It’s a very wide-ranging collection of poems about “love”.
Available from Amazon. Please download it or buy the paperback version and give it a star rating. I’d love some feedback so I’d really welcome comments. Link to book.
That strange first line
“When push comes to shove” – a common saying in the UK which means, “When you consider what the basic issue is” or “in the end you will have to agree that [something is the case]” or”When you get to the truth”. Why it has these meanings I don’t know but it just came into my head with the second line of the poem.
The Cambridge Dictionary has a different interpretation of the expression, LINK
I think the expression has more than one meaning. Any other views on the topic?
I think it starts the poem off in a conversational sort of way, asserting something but inviting a reaction.
What’s your view on this? Do let me know, either on facebook or my blog. What would you tell a couple contemplating getting married are the key things that will lead to success/happiness?
More stories behind the poems soon.
And you can buy or download the book on Amazon. Do buy it and give it a star rating. Link to Amazon
(I’ve recently been out of action with covid.)
David Roberts
The basic idea is to present a poem, by a local author, on a display board in an arts centre and change the poem every month, additionally to display a local poet’s poem on the local rail station, also changing the poem every month.
A very active organisation of arts enthusiasts based in Shoreham-by-Sea in Sussex, UK, run a whole series of arts and cultural events and have developed a big following over the years. They call themselves Shoreham Wordfest.
A founder member was Marilyn Stafford, the distinguished photographer who has an international reputation. (https://www.marilynstaffordphotography.com/about-marilyn/) It was her idea and wish to promote local poets. She died in January this year (2023) at the age of 97, and the plan is being put into action in her memory.
My good fortune
I was fortunate to have one of my poems chosen for the first display this May/June at The Shoreham Centre. Entitled Love is its own reward I wrote it as a tribute to the countless carers and carer professionals who work without regard to the personal physical or emotional cost to themselves. It seems to me that such people, people that society depends on, are insufficiently recognised and rewarded. They generate so much love but they deserve more from society.
Poem requirements
Poets are invited to submit poems of up to 16 lines
They are invited to send a picture to accompany the poem.
They should put their name at the end of the poem and may mention the source book and a website.
More information for poets in the Shoreham/Adur area: https://shorehamwordfest.com/shoreham-wordfest-poetry/
Hope you will click the link to Amazon, buy the book and give it a star rating! Thank you if you do.
Sadly I see your future:
supervised political arrangements
finely tuned,
perfectly balanced,
fair,
but, introduce your politicians
and the will isn’t there.
They have problems with fixed mindsets,
old animosities
transparently disguised.
Every move is guarded,
They bicker, and are bloody-minded.
The problems you face are vast,
but you can’t step into the future
because you are rooted in the past.
15 August 1999
David Roberts
from Kosovo War Poetry, 2000, Saxon Books
I wrote this poem about an agreement between the Kosovo Albanians and the Serbs, but I remember I had in mind what was happening with the new “Good Friday Peace Agreement” in Northern Ireland. Undoubtedly a step in the right direction but some people have a real talent for disagreeing. Thankfully most people and most of the world do not behave in this bloody-minded way.
Northern Ireland is a separate province of the United Kingdom and has its own parliament (Stormont).
For several decades up till 25 years ago there was a bitter and violent disagreement between two factions:
1. those (mainly Catholics) who believed that Northern Ireland should be combined with and governed as part of Ireland,
2. those (mainly Protestants) who believed that Northern Ireland should remain part of the United Kingdom.
For a long time the Catholic minority in Northern Ireland were discriminated against which led to deep-seated anger.
Each side was so convinced they were right that they formed militarised groups (often funded by criminal activities) and set about killing opponents. Over 3,500 people were killed and 47 thousand were injured before 1998 when a peace agreement was reached and politicians with opposing opinions agreed to work together and form a government. The agreement was called the Good Friday Agreement and was signed 25 years ago this week, on 10 April, 1998.
It was clear that not everyone could resist violence. The call to give up and hand in weapons was resisted by many. Killings have occurred since the agreement but have been greatly reduced and for much of the last 25 years Northern Ireland politicians from a range of political parties have met at Stormont to govern Northern Ireland.
I believe that many people may find a lot to relate to, argue about and be moved or amused by in my new book.
Poems about love, How could you know? has just been published by Amazon. It’s available as an ebook kindle download, or as a 100 page paperback.
How do I know?
I’ve been people-watching all my life, starting with my parents’ own troubled marriage. Looking through folders of poems I had scribbled over a lifetime, I discovered that I’d written rather a lot about love, and maybe at my age I have a few insights into the topic.
A few of the poems were written over fifty years ago but most were written in the last 20 years as I observed many relationships, their difficulties, tragedies, successes and triumphs, so this is largely a book of observations, but also speculation, imagination and a little bit of personal experience.
It’s a very varied and unusual book of love poetry because it goes beyond the normal kind of love poem. Some poems are thoughtful, even complicated and philosophical, others are lighter – suggestive or facetious with one or two that are surreal, or even bizarre.
How could you know? is the title of one of the poems, and if people ask how I might know so much about love to be able to write a book of love poems I have to say that like most other ordinary people I’m just an observer of life, fascinated by what is going on in the world and add this to my awareness of my own experiences.
I may have seen more than many people because I’m 80 years old, but these poems were written over a long period of time so they are not all written with the alleged wisdom of old age.
I have been married for over 50 years and live with my wife, Julie, in Hurstpierpoint, UK.
Poems include, Fifty kinds of love, [and I’m hoping readers will think of many more to add to the list], Love is its own reward, Does love exist? How could you know? Don’t vanish with the dawn, A heart in winter.
A new departure for me
I’ve spent over 25 years as an editor and publisher of war poetry so I am very pleased to have change and take on a topic that is positive and cheering. I hope readers will enjoy these very varied poems and leave comments on the Amazon website.
Finding on Amazon
You can visit the books entry on the Amazon website by clicking here.
Or search on Amazon for “Love poetry David Roberts”
MY POEM
A Message from Tony Blair to the People of Iraq
(Written a few days after the start of the attacks by US and UK forces, March 2003. It has been claimed by Tony Blair and others that the problems caused by the invasion could not have been foreseen.)
Note, 2019. I wrote this bitter, sarcastic poem shortly after the first bombing of Iraq feeling extremely angry about the sanctimonious arrogance, dishonesty and criminality and cruelty of Tony Blair. I feel the same way today and regret that he has not been brought to trial as a war criminal. – DR.
A Message from Tony Blair to the People of Iraq
Poem by David Roberts
Look into my honest eyes.
Listen to my honest lies.
Look into my angel face.
Just hear the sincerity in my voice.
I want you all to understand
the better future we have planned.
We bomb with Christian love, not Christian hate.
We come,
not to conquer,
but to liberate.
It is essential, and I want to make this very clear,
that our first aim is to make the world a safer place.
And with precision bombing you need have no fear.
And though you’ve not actually uttered threatening words
to Britain and America, or indeed the world,
and though you haven’t acted yet,
we believe you pose a threat
a threat that cannot be ignored.
I tell you frankly that so great is the threat
that act we must, while there is still time,
or we may live to reap the bitter harvest
of regret.
I’m sure you will appreciate
that we have the right
to remove regimes
that we dislike.
We have the right to assassinate.
We have the right to decide your fate.
So the purpose of our mission,
now that war has started,
is also perfectly clear:
we come to bring you hope
and take away your fear.
Your army, as you know, is hopelessly outgunned.
Resistance by your soldiers is completely senseless.
We’ll simply massacre. We’ll wipe them out.
They cannot touch us. They’re defenceless.
We wreck your homes, your lives, your infrastructure.
You needed help.
Without it you would have had no future.
Our peace, justice and democracy
you will soon enjoy and celebrate.
Remember, we come,
not to conquer,
but to liberate.
Your cities shake and thunder with our bombs.
Tumbling buildings. Plumes of flames.
Roaring jets and shrieking men.
The crash of glass and children’s screams.
We see the mushroom clouds again.
Now you can appreciate the genius of our civilisation.
Remember, this isn’t war:
it’s liberation.
We destroyed your tv station. We cut your phones.
Your power and water supplies we cut.
We destroy public buildings and private homes.
You see billowing smoke and conflagration.
But it isn’t war:
it’s liberation.
Your hospitals overflow. They cannot cope.
We are killing you softly with our love.
Death and destruction are everywhere.
Your future fills with hope.
And if you cannot comprehend this desecration.
Just try to understand,
it isn’t war:
it’s liberation.
Cruise missiles, depleted uranium,
pulse, cluster and bunker buster bombs
may shock you.
And perhaps, you’re just a little awed.
But please understand we come to help
and this is your reward.
Regrettably we can treat nothing as sacred:
it is a fact of war.
No artefact of God or man,
no suffering, no pain, no law
can impede the progress of our plan.
One advantage of our attack
is that we will build for you
a new Iraq.
So don’t worry about the scale of the destruction.
Our companies will make it all as new
and your oil will pay for reconstruction.
Look to the future.
Your children will not easily forget
how we came to help.
Round the clock bombing
may have left them traumatised
and perhaps a little mad,
but soon we are sure they’ll realise
just what luck they’ve had.
Some ask if I’m untouched by human suffering.
I can tell you my sleep is undisturbed,
though I deeply mourn the thousands killed.
I am not shaken,
and I am not stirred.
So finally I say,
that for a brighter future
a little bombing is a small price to pay.
Ignore the carnage, terror and destruction.
Our purpose
is not
domination or exploitation.
This is not
a war of conquest.
It’s a war of liberation.
David Roberts
28 March-9 April 2003
My darling,
you are the apple strudel of my eye,
naughty but nice.
And yet,
friends warn me
that you are dangerous
and I’ll live to regret
that we ever met.
I don’t agree,
my delectable extrovert.
Time will tell our fortune
and I shall be
content to get
my just dessert.
David Roberts
Poem from How could you know? Poems about love. – paperback version, 14 February. By 17 February 2023 it should also be in the kindle downloads.
This poem is just fiction. It refers to no real person.
The words might be used by someone who’s in love with a girl who may be fun but seem a little crazy.
I’m not addressing this poem to anyone I know. I just liked playing around with the well-known but strange expression, “You are the apple of my eye”.
A poem for NHS workers and everyone in caring professions who go on caring for others, even though they don’t receive the recognition or respect or pay that they deserve. In spite of the main idea of the poem, love alone is not a sufficient reward.
Love is its own reward
Some people stand apart,
have no need of status,
recognition,
or the world’s approval.
They have risen
above the need for love or lovers
because they have it all
within themselves and love to spare
and give it all to others.
5 December 2022
David Roberts
How could you know? – Poems about love
Love experienced, love observed, love examined from different angles, love in the context of human life in all its variety. – This is an exceptional book of love poetry. It goes beyond expressions of adoration, wonder, longing, and loss – the rhetoric of love poetry. It is a wide ranging exploration of “love”.
My approach is often thoughtful – even philosophical, at other times it may be surreal, bizarre, suggestive or facetious. This is “poetry of ideas”.
Poems include, Fifty kinds of love, Love is its own reward, Does love exist? How could you know? Don’t vanish with the dawn, A heart in winter.
Available now for download on Kindle – Amazon website – £3.
Now also available as a 100 page paperback – £6-95. Amazon link.
This is me in the Mojave Desert, California, in 2009
Ever since there have been climates on earth there has been climate change. Today we know that large areas of the earth are threatened by rising sea levels and other areas are threatened by droughts. Such problems have been common throughout human history. Mankind has always been at the mercy of forces beyond his control, and sometimes forces that he could and should control.
I, for one, feel powerless to do anything about the current climate crises. At the same time, in spite of everything, I think that mankind will survive and enjoy the benefits of modern science.
I wasn’t thinking of the climate issue when I wrote the following poem which my notes tell me I wrote over several years, returning to it from time to time when I happened to come across it in a folder, but I think the poem may be relevant.
What does anyone know?
What do I know?
The origin
of the universe
its scale
its destiny
are beyond my understanding.
This earth
so rich
so poor
so vulnerable
so uncontrollable
is all we have.
I accept
that I am less than a speck
in the sandstorm
of stars.
I only know
I am a citizen of earth
and this,
my brief home.
David Roberts
2000, 2015, 2020
May be used as a prayer or sung to the music, Finlandia, by Jean Sibelius
Grant peace, O Lord, across our strife-torn world,
Where war divides and greed and dogma drive.
Help us to learn the lessons from the past,
That all are human and all pay the price.
All life is dear and should be treated so;
Joined, not divided, is the way to go.
Protect, dear Lord, all who, on our behalf,
Now take the steps that place them in harm’s way.
May they find courage for each task they face
By knowing they are in our thoughts always.
Then, duty done and missions at an end,
Return them safe to family and friends.
Grant rest, O Lord, to those no longer with us;
Who died protecting us and this their land.
Bring healing, Lord, to those who, through their service,
Bear conflict’s scars on body or in mind.
With those who mourn support and comfort share.
Give strength to those who for hurt loved-ones care.
And some there be who no memorial have;
Who perished are as though they’d never been.
For our tomorrows their today they gave,
And simply asked that in our hearts they’d live.
We heed their call and pledge ourselves again,
At dusk and dawn – we will remember them!
Voice:
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.
ALL SAY
We will remember them.
Charles Henrywood, 2009
From The War Poetry website www.warpoetry.uk and the book, Remembrance Poems and Readings.
The sculpture by Ian Rank-Broadley is perhaps the best known memorial at the National Memorial Arboretum at Alrewas in Staffordshire. It was inspired by the Ancient Greek tradition of carrying dead heroes from the field of battle on a shield. Here the shield has been replaced by a stretcher and a grieving family has been added.
The memorial park is dedicated to all Britain’s armed and non-combatant services.
“The National Memorial Arboretum is a British site of national remembrance. Its objective is to honour the fallen, recognise service and sacrifice, and foster pride in the British Armed Forces and civilian community.”
There are almost 400 memorials on this 150 acre site. We visited in August this year. It is an impressive and moving place to visit.
A version of the picture above is featured on the cover of my book, Remembrance poems and Readings.
This book contains a comprehensive collection of readings for Remembrance services and includes a discussion of the changing nature of remembrance events. There are poems that go beyond remembrance to offer hope for a world with sustainable peace.
You can explore traditional readings and a wide selection of Remembrance poems by living service personnel on my website, www.warpoetry.uk
What does anyone know?
What do I know?
The origin
of the universe
its scale
its destiny
are beyond my understanding.
This earth
so rich
so poor
so vulnerable
so uncontrollable
is all we have.
I accept
that I am less than a speck
in the sandstorm
of stars.
I only know
I am a citizen of earth
and this,
my brief home.
David Roberts 2000, 2015, 2020
I write the occasional poem. Here are three of them.
Writing a poem in ten lines is a useful discipline. It concentrates the mind. I think poems should pack as much meaning as they can in the fewest possible words. I am not a fan of gushing words, clever but meaning little.
The hottest day recorded.
Towards ten at night
The rain started.
We walked out
Into the garden, naked,
enjoying the refreshing rain.
The lawn was squelchy
underfoot.
We lay down together,
and
made mud.
27th July 2019
Sense of sunlight
on my eyes
Open them
Room dark
No one
by my side
Violin
silent
Heart cries
Footsteps in the street
Love dies
3 August 2002
I remember that first day.
I saw you
two metres away.
We went for a walk
in the park
two metres apart.
We should have met in another time.
Now we can never get together
but must stay apart
for ever.
June 2020
26 October 2020. David Roberts davidrobertsblog.com Please share.
For ten years the small town and port of Shoreham-by-Sea, on the south coast of England, just along the coast from Brighton, has had a thriving, popular literary festival. This year (2020) being the tenth anniversary of the festival the organisers decided to run another poetry competition. The requirement this year was for a ten line poem on any subject. Only two poems could be submitted by any one entrant.
I sent in two poems, one of them being First day at uni. It wasn’t a winner. The other poem, which I considered not so good was ”commended”. I thought my poem pointed up a very serious issue.
I read that some universities were going to employ security firms to police and enforce social distancing on students. This seemed to me an outrageous idea.
No to social distancing
Social distancing goes against natural human behaviour. Logically, if adhered to, it would lead to the end of the human race. It must surely be against basic human rights. And there is much more one could say in criticism of it, but for young people the idea that they cannot come near each other strikes me as preposterous.
That’s what led me to write this poem, First day at uni,2020.
I remember that first day.
I saw you
two metres away.
We went for a walk
in the park
two metres apart.
We should have met in another time.
Now we can never get together
but must stay apart
for ever.
David Roberts
June 2020
davidrobertsblog.com
My books (books I have edited) are primarily books of war poetry (mainly the First World War) and remembrance poems.
I also run a very popular war poetry website www.warpoetry.uk
