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Love (2)

I wrote the following poem when a friend of mine was struggling with feelings that were at the time utterly unwelcome; I think we’ve probably all been there….


Love (2)


Falling in love is much like falling sick:

It wasn’t part of the original plan.

There’s never a right time for it,

But when it happens, there comes

A terrible sense of inevitability,

A point when you can’t put it off

For a single second longer

And you succumb wholeheartedly.

It sometimes sneaks up uninvited

Like a stealthy summer cold.

You kid yourself it’s just pollen

That makes eyes and nose run:

The ache you feel is just overwork,

The heat in your veins merely

A reflection of the searing sun

And the shivers that shake you

Are geese parading over your grave.

But as the symptoms grow

So too does the unwelcome news

That there is nothing you can do

And it must run its true course.

Sometimes you recover, wake

To find the signs have vanished

Much like the glistening morning dew

As the sun warms the new day.

A faint uneasy memory remains

And you bless your luck at escaping,

Getting off so lightly this time.

Other times you toss and turn,

Boil and burn for years on end,

Find no relief, no end, no cure.

You get used to it finally,

Grow to enjoy the constant fever.

You won’t die of this disease,

But at times you might wish to.

Falling in love is much like falling ill,

But it is part of someone’s plan.

It’s timing is never our own,

And what we learn from it

Is both its gift and its curse.


by Viv

January 9, 2009 Posted by | Cafe Literati, friends, fun, life, love, personal, poetry, Valentines, Viv's Poetry, writing | , , , , | 5 Comments

Remembering 55 years ago


Here is something I put together today –the cause and my reaction–about a feeling that lingers  in my mind from time to time.  

It was the time that I first felt wronged by someone. I takes place in in the least expected situation, that’s a kinder garden class or probably first grade. The experience plays like this: The child (boy or girl) next to me leans in my direction and whispers something which I was not even able to hear. At that same moment the teacher turns around and sees me looking at her. I had not said a word, but she heard someone whispering and immediately assumed that I was the one talking. The teacher did not even stop to analyze the situation nor she asked around. On those times we were expected to sit silently  while the teacher was writing on the chalkboard; I don’t think the “new batches” of kids can do that! I knew that nothing I could say could have changed her verdict. Needless to say I felt very ashamed  and humiliated when she accused me and later when I was punished by sitting me on a corner, with my back to the class. I was at the verge of tears.  Of course, the boy or girl said nothing.

I had always been a A+ child in grades and behavior and that  was part of our family values so the  feeling  was augmented by the value we placed in honesty, good behavior and justice. The feeling of been unjustly accused has never washed out  from me, probably making me extremely aware so no one can second guess my actions.  Here I am at 60, bothering about an incident so far away in time. A child’s mind is definitely like a blank slate in which you can impress anything. Things can often be completely different to what we  “see”.  That’s why we have to be very cautious on how we talk, what  we say to children. I suppose a modern teacher would take extra time to solve the issue, they are better prepared, more conscious.

April 21, 2008 Posted by | personal | , , , | 12 Comments