Valentinus

February is the heart of winter and the Feast of Saint Valentine is less than a week away. I have heard Valentine’s Day referred to as a ‘Hallmark Holiday’, but it has been observed for over 1,500 years. Valentinus, or St. Valentine to us English speakers, was martyred (beheaded) on February 14, 269 for marrying Christians in Rome.

This might explain why he is the patron saint of such seemingly unrelated subjects as affianced couples, against fainting, beekeepers, happy marriages, love, plague, and epilepsy. Think about it. Does falling in love not make one heave and become light headed? Are we not plagued by obsessive thoughts of our beloved? And how much does unrequited love sting us to the marrow?

The photo with this blog post is allegedly the flower-crowned skull of Saint Valentine because nothing says love like a daisy chained dead guy. And nothing says love like hearts printed on boxer shorts, fake roses under glass, heart shaped pizzas, pink cookware, or a stuffed skunk bearing chocolate either.

FYI- If you are my secret admirer, please send the book ‘Love Poems’ by Pablo Neruda.

I was once stood up for Valentine’s Day. It turned out the guy was living in a motel and was strung out on Oxycodone, so he was actually doing me a favor. So much for online dating. Valentine’s Day is often a reminder for us single dateless losers that we are single dateless losers. Actually, it is a great day to avoid going out to dinner if you don’t like watching crowds of people kiss.

I will celebrate this year with some left-over chocolate from Christmas and a beautiful Grand Reserve 2013 Cabernet Sauvignon from a vineyard in Argentina. Every year on February 15, I spy single ladies buying heart shaped boxes of chocolates on clearance. Why the hell not. Get yourself a dozen roses too. The truth of it is, if you wait for someone else to get it for you, you might wait a lifetime. Better yet, find a group of single gals and celebrate Galentine’s Day together.

“O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?”
-(from Romeo and Juliet, spoken by Juliet) By William Shakespeare

Love for me is not defined by high romance and it is not inextricably linked to happiness. There is a song ‘Hallelujah’ written by Leonard Cohen. The lyrics of this song state that ‘love is not a victory march; It’s a cold and it’s a broken Hallelujah’. I think this is often interpreted as the bitterness of broken relationships. But for me, it speaks to the true nature of deep, devoted love in those hours when it is so hard to love.

When the beloved is struggling, when the bank account is empty, when there are significant health problems- this is when the real work of love comes to bear. And often all we can do is surrender to our heartache and powerlessness and offer our tearful prayers to God for a hopeful resolution. There is a reason that wedding vows refer to poverty and illness and remaining faithful to the beloved in spite of it…

It’s easy to celebrate love when you are young, starry eyed, and horny.

My ideal Valentine’s Day is my ideal any day. Here, I wrote poem about it:

Valentinus
By C.M.Mounts

Plucked truffles
Tissue lined box
Push gently
Through
Wine stained
Ruby lips
Low fireplace
I kiss you
Lean in
Speak poems
Gently
Your ears
Know
How much
I love you…

Have a blessed Valentine’s Day. Don’t get beheaded.

 

-Copyright C.M. Mounts, February 2019

Photo Credit: Relic of St. Valentine in the church of Santa Maria in Cosmedin, Rome by Dnalor 01 – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=32487809

Blue Sheet of Sky

Huge blue sheet of sky
Largest picture window
Spread a blanket
Watch a meteor shower

Us in romance
A little wine
Hands clasped
Dreaming

It will get chilly
It will feel suspended
At least I hope it will

Day to day creeps in
It disturbs my happiness
In this moment

With a friend
With a lover

I will want to know
How it ends
Stop
Be here now

Fish jump in nearby lake water
Frogs call out in the night
Seek their own lovers

Let us be lovers
At least this one night

 

-Copyright C.M. Mounts, October 2017

Closing time

They orbit
Whatever their reasons
Looking for easy access
Fascination freak show

Mysterious familiarity
They love or hate or both
But cannot reconcile

You act as a prod
Sore spot
They’ve been rubbing
Their whole lives

Draws them near
Pushes them far
But always in orbit

Never coming
Never going

There is an opening
They cannot see it
Until it is closing time
Until it is shut

Wonder years later
What happened
Another sore spot to rub

 

-Copyright C.M. Mounts, August 2015

 

Affinity

There is more
There is so much more

Yes, breaks are allowed
But time marches on
Ready or not

It is unfair to expect
One person to serve
All your needs

It is unfair to think
You can serve
All theirs

Consider the great
Humbling honor
It is to love another

Agree to share
Their life with you

We have so few days
Mayfly life
In the memory of the world

Why chain them in sorrow
Why chain yourself in anger

Let go
Hold Loosely
Love always

-Copyright C.M. Mounts, April 2017

High Romance

Call, write a letter
Email whatever
Let me know

Take a week off
Two weeks
Get on a plane

Meet me there
In the tropics
Small island

Pitch an umbrella
Over beach chairs
Bottle of wine

While sunset fades
Eat a ridiculous dinner
Dance

Lay in bed a couple days
Naked as we came
Curtains flow in sea breeze

Room service
Feed each other
Pineapple

-Copyright C.M. Mounts, April 2017

Red Letter Day

On a dark night late in the year, you drove thirty minutes to a post office on the southern edge of downtown, to mail a single letter to someone you will not remember twenty years later. But anyway, it was more to get away, to send some feathers in a red envelope, some feathers from the wings of your heart which longed to fly out from this empty low place, to find a home where it was wanted and needed and valued. You no longer wanted to feel as though there was an impatient curmudgeon named Time waiting by the front door in a worn floral armchair asking, “Oh, you’re still here?”

That is why it did not matter to you that the drive was an hour round trip, to mail a single a letter, to whom you will never remember. It was important. It must have been a boy who you hoped would save you. No one noticed if you were gone for long periods and for long periods, years in fact, you wanted to be gone. Continue reading “Red Letter Day”