A ROMANTIC CHALLENGE

Starved for romance? OK, lets talk about romance and poetry. There's longing for romance with no object of desire yet. There's longing for romance with an object. There's good ole unrequited romance. There's romantic poetry while in the throes of a relationship. And of course there's romance after a relationship dies.

Her lips were soft like __________.

His strong arms held me tightly, like __________.

Her breasts pressed against me, as soft as __________.

John's eyes sparkled, like __________.

My yearning for him/her soared, as strong as __________.

See how hard it is to find fresh language when talking about romance? It's been done so often and in so many different ways. If you want to see some real flowery romantic language, rent the movie "Cyranno de Bergerac" staring Jose Ferrer and watch the balcony love scene several times. Better yet, think of someone you know (past, present or future) that you have romantic feelings for and write a few poems about her/him. Try to find fresh love language without, as Sarah asked, using anything sexually explicit. Send them to me and I'll post a few of them here.

And from the Japanese Poet Komachi (as quoted in "An Introduction to Japanese Court Poetry" by Earl Miner):

That which fades away
Without revealing its altered color
Is, in the world of love,
That single flower which blossoms
In the fickle heart of man.

From the Japanese poet Tsurayuki (same source as above):

Echoing fills the sky
From which the summer rain is falling-
And you, the wood thrush,
What anguish is it that brings you
To sing uninterrupted through the night.

I quoted these two poems to show you that it is possible to write romantic poetry without anything sexually explicit. In fact, you can get pretty far a field from sexually explicit and still touch on the romantic.

Below is a poem by the famous Russian poet Anna Akhmatova (Translated by Richard McKane) about breaking up - a romantic subject that's guaranteed to be hot and angry:

You thought I was that Type

You thought I was that type:
that you could forget me,
and that I'd plead and weep and throw myself
under the hooves of a bay mare.

Or that I'd ask the sorcerers
for some magic potion made from roots
and send you a terrible gift:
my precious perfumed handkerchief.

Damn you! I will not grant
your cursed soul vicarious tears or a single glance.
And I swear to you by the garden of the angels,
I swear by the miracle-working icon,
and by the fire and smoke of our nights:
I will never come back to you.

Here is a poem that speaks to another aspect of romance - Chastity. Its from the Arab poet Ibn Hazm (994-1063, as quoted in "Poems of Arab Andalusia", by Cola Franzen):

Chastity

Although she was ready to give
herself to me, I abstained
and did not accept
the temptation Satan offered.

She came unveiled in the night.
Illuminated by her face,
night put aside its shadowy
veils as well.

Each one of her glances
could cause hearts to turn over.

But I clung to the divine precept
that condemns lust and reined in
the capricious horses of my passion
so that my instinct
would not rebel against chastity.

And so I passed the night with her
like a thirsty little camel
whose muzzle keeps it from nursing.

Note how Ibn Hazm used a clever simile to close his poem. And from the same source, a poem on the subject of parting from the Arab poet Ibn Jaakh (11th Century):

Leave-taking

On the morning they left
we said goodbye
filled with sadness
for the absence to come.

Inside the palanquins
on the camel's backs
I saw their faces as beautiful as moons
behind veils of gold cloth.

Beneath the veils
tears crept like scorpions
over the fragrant roses
of their cheeks.

Those scorpions do not harm
the cheek they mark.
They save their sting
for the heart of the sorrowful lover.

These are a few examples of romantic poetry. Note the nice simile in the third stanza, "tears crept like scorpions…" and how Ibn Jaakh builds on the simile in the last stanza. This simile has turned into a metaphor by the last stanza. Which brings us to:

Simply put, a metaphor is a transfer of meaning and takes great advantage of the many meanings of one word or phrase can have. That is to say, the essential meaning of a word of phrase is used transfer to another word or phrase with different meaning.

Take, for example, the simile in the third stanza of Ibn Jaakh's poem: "tears like scorpions". Yes, it uses "like" or "as" and is a simile. But a metaphor (transferred meaning) is set up for the fourth stanza, where he extends the metaphor, talking about the scorpion's sting on the lover's heart. He's not talking about a real scorpion or a real scorpion's sting. He has transferred it to talk about the sting of lovers parted. The real difference between a simile and a metaphor is the transfer. Its more than simply removing "like" or "as".

Simile: Our love, as hot as lava……

Metaphor: Our lava love…..

It's a subtle difference, but becomes more obvious when we extend the metaphor. When Bill Shakespeare says "Juliet is the sun…", he sets up a metaphor transferring the sun's qualities to her, its live-giving force, it's brightness, etc. A metaphor is really cool because it lets the reader's mind flash off into many other nuances of meaning while keeping the basic thread of the poem together. Here's an example from one of my Vietnam poems:

Dragon River

The Vietnamese river laid in wait
for me, like an unchained Dragon
stoned on opium.
When awakened,
it was cranky and spit fire.
Every night our puny plastic patrol boats
plied the serpentine folds
of the Mekong delta,
intruders in the darkling lair.

Simple fishing folk sailed those waters,
too, their lights marking the murky
shore. Sampans sliced the smelly river,
their eyes searching for shadowy demons.
Often they found us
and gunfire ripped the gloom.

Then, we cruised a night cave lit by
tracers; buzzing close in whistling fury,
ours red, theirs yellow.

When ambushed, we called a mighty
wrath upon their heads,
shells and bombs bursting
by the napalm's red glare.

I survived that fiery year, then
slipped through a wormhole to the present, but
the memories still lurk and smolder.
Some nights I awaken,
sweating oceans,
still on patrol.

And the Dragon's still there!

The title and the first stanza set up the metaphor of a dragon representing war and then extends it. And the poem ends with the dragon still there, signifying that war and its memories are still there in my life and also that war, that dreadful beast (the dragon), is still here in our lives.

Shop for a collection of Elizabeth Bishop's poems at the Amazon box above and experience her imagery and use of similes and metaphors. She is a master of the extended metaphor. Especially see her poem "The Fish" (too long to quote here). 

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