Suggestions for a wedding reading?
June 22, 2010 2:01 PM Subscribe
I've been asked to select and read something non-biblical at a family wedding. Aside from the standard Shakespeare sonnets, I'm stumped. I'd love some meaningful contemporary suggestions (something from David Foster Wallace perhaps?).
Older writings are fine too, I'm just trying to avoid Desiderata-esque stuff.
Older writings are fine too, I'm just trying to avoid Desiderata-esque stuff.
Our pastor read from the Velveteen Rabbit.
posted by thanotopsis at 2:23 PM on June 22, 2010 [1 favorite]
posted by thanotopsis at 2:23 PM on June 22, 2010 [1 favorite]
I am partial to Kahil Gibran's The Prophet. It has passages on both marriage and love.
posted by unannihilated at 2:26 PM on June 22, 2010
posted by unannihilated at 2:26 PM on June 22, 2010
Kahlil Gibran is popular.
Then Almitra spoke again and said, “And what of Marriage, master?”
And he answered saying:
“You were born together, and together you shall be forevermore.
You shall be together when the white wings of death scatter your days.
Ay, you shall be together even in the silent memory of God.
But let there be spaces in your togetherness.
And let the winds of the heavens dance between you.
Love on another, but make not a bond of love:
Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls.
Fill each other’s cup but drink not from one cup.
Give one another of your bread but eat not from the same loaf.
Sing and dance together and be joyous, but let each one of you be alone,
Even as the strings of a lute are alone though they quiver with the same music.
Give your hearts, but not into each other’s keeping.
For only the hand of life can contain your hearts.
And stand together yet not too near together:
For the pillars of the temple stand apart
And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other’s shadow.
Though Pablo Neruda could be fun also.
I am the tiger
I lie in wait for you among leaves
broad as ingots
of wet mineral.
The white river grows
beneath the fog. You come.
Naked you submerge.
I wait.
Then in a leap
of fire, blood, teeth,
with a claw slash I tear away
your bosom, your hips.
I drink your blood, I break
your limbs one by one.
And I remain watching
for years in the forest
over your bones, your ashes,
motionless, far
from hatred and anger,
disarmed in your death,
crossed by lianas,
motionless in the rain,
relentless sentinel
of my murderous love.
posted by kanewai at 2:27 PM on June 22, 2010 [3 favorites]
Then Almitra spoke again and said, “And what of Marriage, master?”
And he answered saying:
“You were born together, and together you shall be forevermore.
You shall be together when the white wings of death scatter your days.
Ay, you shall be together even in the silent memory of God.
But let there be spaces in your togetherness.
And let the winds of the heavens dance between you.
Love on another, but make not a bond of love:
Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls.
Fill each other’s cup but drink not from one cup.
Give one another of your bread but eat not from the same loaf.
Sing and dance together and be joyous, but let each one of you be alone,
Even as the strings of a lute are alone though they quiver with the same music.
Give your hearts, but not into each other’s keeping.
For only the hand of life can contain your hearts.
And stand together yet not too near together:
For the pillars of the temple stand apart
And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other’s shadow.
Though Pablo Neruda could be fun also.
I am the tiger
I lie in wait for you among leaves
broad as ingots
of wet mineral.
The white river grows
beneath the fog. You come.
Naked you submerge.
I wait.
Then in a leap
of fire, blood, teeth,
with a claw slash I tear away
your bosom, your hips.
I drink your blood, I break
your limbs one by one.
And I remain watching
for years in the forest
over your bones, your ashes,
motionless, far
from hatred and anger,
disarmed in your death,
crossed by lianas,
motionless in the rain,
relentless sentinel
of my murderous love.
posted by kanewai at 2:27 PM on June 22, 2010 [3 favorites]
I have a pretty big collection of wedding oriented poems and exerpts from books. Memail me and I'll send to you.
posted by bearwife at 2:35 PM on June 22, 2010 [2 favorites]
posted by bearwife at 2:35 PM on June 22, 2010 [2 favorites]
I Was Trying to Describe You to Someone
-Richard Brautigan
I was trying to describe you to someone a few days ago. You don't look like any girl I've ever seen before.
I couldn't say "Well she looks just like Jane Fonda, except that she's got red hair, and her mouth is different and of course, she's not a movie star..."
I couldn't say that because you don’t look like Jane Fonda at all.
I finally ended up describing you as a movie I saw when I was a child in Tacoma Washington. I guess I saw it in 1941 or 42, somewhere in there. I think I was seven, or eight, or six.
It was a movie about rural electrification, a perfect 1930's New Deal morality kind of movie to show kids. The movie was about farmers living in the country without electricity. They had to use lanterns to see by at night, for sewing and reading, and they didn't have any appliances like toasters or washing machines, and they couldn't listen to the radio. They built a dam with big electric generators and they put poles across the countryside and strung wire over fields and pastures.
There was an incredible heroic dimension that came from the simple putting up of poles for the wires to travel along. They looked ancient and modern at the same time.
Then the movie showed electricity like a young Greek god, coming to the farmer to take away forever the dark ways of his life. Suddenly, religiously, with the throwing of a switch, the farmer had electric lights to see by when he milked his cows in the early black winter mornings. The farmer's family got to listen to the radio and have a toaster and lots of bright lights to sew dresses and read the newspaper by.
It was really a fantastic movie and excited me like listening to the Star Spangled Banner, or seeing photographs of President Roosevelt, or hearing him on the radio "... the President of the United States... "
I wanted electricity to go everywhere in the world. I wanted all the farmers in the world to be able to listen to President Roosevelt on the radio....
And that's how you look to me.
posted by BigSky at 2:38 PM on June 22, 2010 [15 favorites]
-Richard Brautigan
I was trying to describe you to someone a few days ago. You don't look like any girl I've ever seen before.
I couldn't say "Well she looks just like Jane Fonda, except that she's got red hair, and her mouth is different and of course, she's not a movie star..."
I couldn't say that because you don’t look like Jane Fonda at all.
I finally ended up describing you as a movie I saw when I was a child in Tacoma Washington. I guess I saw it in 1941 or 42, somewhere in there. I think I was seven, or eight, or six.
It was a movie about rural electrification, a perfect 1930's New Deal morality kind of movie to show kids. The movie was about farmers living in the country without electricity. They had to use lanterns to see by at night, for sewing and reading, and they didn't have any appliances like toasters or washing machines, and they couldn't listen to the radio. They built a dam with big electric generators and they put poles across the countryside and strung wire over fields and pastures.
There was an incredible heroic dimension that came from the simple putting up of poles for the wires to travel along. They looked ancient and modern at the same time.
Then the movie showed electricity like a young Greek god, coming to the farmer to take away forever the dark ways of his life. Suddenly, religiously, with the throwing of a switch, the farmer had electric lights to see by when he milked his cows in the early black winter mornings. The farmer's family got to listen to the radio and have a toaster and lots of bright lights to sew dresses and read the newspaper by.
It was really a fantastic movie and excited me like listening to the Star Spangled Banner, or seeing photographs of President Roosevelt, or hearing him on the radio "... the President of the United States... "
I wanted electricity to go everywhere in the world. I wanted all the farmers in the world to be able to listen to President Roosevelt on the radio....
And that's how you look to me.
posted by BigSky at 2:38 PM on June 22, 2010 [15 favorites]
Response by poster: Brautigan and Garcia Marquez are great suggestions - Kahlil Gibran and excerpts from children's books don't strike the right tone for me (but thanks!).
posted by aladfar at 2:48 PM on June 22, 2010
posted by aladfar at 2:48 PM on June 22, 2010
I did this for a friend last weekend, and it got a lot of compliments... it couldn't have been my reading of it, as I spent most of the ceremony pretty choked up, so it had to have been the poem!
Pablo Neruda Sonnet XVII
I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way
than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.
posted by honeybee413 at 2:52 PM on June 22, 2010 [10 favorites]
Pablo Neruda Sonnet XVII
I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way
than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.
posted by honeybee413 at 2:52 PM on June 22, 2010 [10 favorites]
This was read at my wedding.
Litany
by Billy Collins
You are the bread and the knife,
The crystal goblet and the wine...
-Jacques Crickillon
You are the bread and the knife,
the crystal goblet and the wine.
You are the dew on the morning grass
and the burning wheel of the sun.
You are the white apron of the baker,
and the marsh birds suddenly in flight.
However, you are not the wind in the orchard,
the plums on the counter,
or the house of cards.
And you are certainly not the pine-scented air.
There is just no way that you are the pine-scented air.
It is possible that you are the fish under the bridge,
maybe even the pigeon on the general's head,
but you are not even close
to being the field of cornflowers at dusk.
And a quick look in the mirror will show
that you are neither the boots in the corner
nor the boat asleep in its boathouse.
It might interest you to know,
speaking of the plentiful imagery of the world,
that I am the sound of rain on the roof.
I also happen to be the shooting star,
the evening paper blowing down an alley
and the basket of chestnuts on the kitchen table.
I am also the moon in the trees
and the blind woman's tea cup.
But don't worry, I'm not the bread and the knife.
You are still the bread and the knife.
You will always be the bread and the knife,
not to mention the crystal goblet and--somehow--the wine.
posted by anastasiav at 2:55 PM on June 22, 2010 [5 favorites]
Litany
by Billy Collins
You are the bread and the knife,
The crystal goblet and the wine...
-Jacques Crickillon
You are the bread and the knife,
the crystal goblet and the wine.
You are the dew on the morning grass
and the burning wheel of the sun.
You are the white apron of the baker,
and the marsh birds suddenly in flight.
However, you are not the wind in the orchard,
the plums on the counter,
or the house of cards.
And you are certainly not the pine-scented air.
There is just no way that you are the pine-scented air.
It is possible that you are the fish under the bridge,
maybe even the pigeon on the general's head,
but you are not even close
to being the field of cornflowers at dusk.
And a quick look in the mirror will show
that you are neither the boots in the corner
nor the boat asleep in its boathouse.
It might interest you to know,
speaking of the plentiful imagery of the world,
that I am the sound of rain on the roof.
I also happen to be the shooting star,
the evening paper blowing down an alley
and the basket of chestnuts on the kitchen table.
I am also the moon in the trees
and the blind woman's tea cup.
But don't worry, I'm not the bread and the knife.
You are still the bread and the knife.
You will always be the bread and the knife,
not to mention the crystal goblet and--somehow--the wine.
posted by anastasiav at 2:55 PM on June 22, 2010 [5 favorites]
The poem found here (from Earth Apples by Ed Abbey) was read at my wedding.
By my request.
It's kinda creepy and dirty.
But that's what more weddings need.
Actually, I love this and the fact that it was read still brings me great joy to this day.
It doesn't have a title.
YES -- even after my death
you shall not escape me
I'll follow you
in the eyes of every hawk,
every falcon, vulture, eagle
that soars in whatever sky
you walk beneath,
all the earth over,
everywhere.
Yes -- and when you die too,
and follow me into that deep
dark burning delicious blue
and become like me --
a kind of bird, a feathered thing --
why, then I'll seek you out
ten thousand feet above the sea;
and far beyond the world's rim
we'll meet and clasp and couple
close to the flaming sun
and scream the joy of our love
into the blaze of death
and burn like angels
down through the stars
past all the suns
to the world's beginning again.
posted by Seamus at 2:59 PM on June 22, 2010 [3 favorites]
By my request.
It's kinda creepy and dirty.
But that's what more weddings need.
Actually, I love this and the fact that it was read still brings me great joy to this day.
It doesn't have a title.
YES -- even after my death
you shall not escape me
I'll follow you
in the eyes of every hawk,
every falcon, vulture, eagle
that soars in whatever sky
you walk beneath,
all the earth over,
everywhere.
Yes -- and when you die too,
and follow me into that deep
dark burning delicious blue
and become like me --
a kind of bird, a feathered thing --
why, then I'll seek you out
ten thousand feet above the sea;
and far beyond the world's rim
we'll meet and clasp and couple
close to the flaming sun
and scream the joy of our love
into the blaze of death
and burn like angels
down through the stars
past all the suns
to the world's beginning again.
posted by Seamus at 2:59 PM on June 22, 2010 [3 favorites]
I should add that the one we wanted to read and didn't was Song by Alan Ginsberg
posted by anastasiav at 3:01 PM on June 22, 2010 [1 favorite]
posted by anastasiav at 3:01 PM on June 22, 2010 [1 favorite]
Here's what I chose for my wedding:
An excerpt from "A Farewell to Arms" by Ernest Hemingway
At night, there was the feeling that we had come home, feeling no longer alone, waking in the night to find the other one there, and not gone away; all other things were unreal. We slept when we were tired and if we woke the other one woke too so one was not alone. Often a man wishes to be alone and a woman wishes to be alone too and if they love each other they are jealous of that in each other, but I can truly say we never felt that. We could feel alone when we were together, alone against the others. We were never lonely and never afraid when we were together.
You don't normally think "Hemingway!" when you think of romantic wedding readings but it was perfect for this bride. :)
posted by ninjakins at 3:09 PM on June 22, 2010 [8 favorites]
An excerpt from "A Farewell to Arms" by Ernest Hemingway
At night, there was the feeling that we had come home, feeling no longer alone, waking in the night to find the other one there, and not gone away; all other things were unreal. We slept when we were tired and if we woke the other one woke too so one was not alone. Often a man wishes to be alone and a woman wishes to be alone too and if they love each other they are jealous of that in each other, but I can truly say we never felt that. We could feel alone when we were together, alone against the others. We were never lonely and never afraid when we were together.
You don't normally think "Hemingway!" when you think of romantic wedding readings but it was perfect for this bride. :)
posted by ninjakins at 3:09 PM on June 22, 2010 [8 favorites]
We had this passage from The Irrational Season by Madeleine L'Engle read at our wedding:
"Ultimately there comes a time when a decision must be made. Ultimately two people who love each other must ask themselves how much they hope for as their love grows and deepens, and how much risk they are willing to take. It is indeed a fearful gamble. Because it is the nature of love to create, a marriage itself is something which has to be created. To marry is the biggest risk in human relations that a person can take. If we commit ourselves to one person for life this is not, as many people think, a rejection of freedom; rather it demands the courage to move into all the risks of freedom, and the risk of love which is permanent; into that love which is not possession, but participation. It takes a lifetime to learn another person. When love is not possession, but participation, then it is part of that co-creation which is our human calling."
posted by Meg_Murry at 3:37 PM on June 22, 2010 [10 favorites]
"Ultimately there comes a time when a decision must be made. Ultimately two people who love each other must ask themselves how much they hope for as their love grows and deepens, and how much risk they are willing to take. It is indeed a fearful gamble. Because it is the nature of love to create, a marriage itself is something which has to be created. To marry is the biggest risk in human relations that a person can take. If we commit ourselves to one person for life this is not, as many people think, a rejection of freedom; rather it demands the courage to move into all the risks of freedom, and the risk of love which is permanent; into that love which is not possession, but participation. It takes a lifetime to learn another person. When love is not possession, but participation, then it is part of that co-creation which is our human calling."
posted by Meg_Murry at 3:37 PM on June 22, 2010 [10 favorites]
Having a Coke with You by Frank O'Hara -- I just love the line, "I look/at you and I would rather look at you than all the portraits in the world."
Also, I love Nikki Giovanni's Love Is and And I Have You are great, as are a few others in this collection.
posted by bluestocking at 3:47 PM on June 22, 2010
Also, I love Nikki Giovanni's Love Is and And I Have You are great, as are a few others in this collection.
posted by bluestocking at 3:47 PM on June 22, 2010
The devotional poets Rumi and Kabir are popular choices.
posted by reverend cuttle at 3:52 PM on June 22, 2010
posted by reverend cuttle at 3:52 PM on June 22, 2010
Best reading I've ever heard at a wedding:
I Love You Deeply, Darling
Ethan Coen
If all geniuses were shallow
And if dullards were deep,
And our walking lives were but
Somebody's dreams who couldn't sleep.
And all nonsense bore repeating
And repeating didn't bore,
I would love you yet, and say so
Many times times many more.
And if all the world ran backwards
I would love you deeply still,
Til the rivers ran downriver
And the mountains ran uphill.
Yes, I love you to the point where
Logic and illogic meet,
And adduce as proof these sentiments
Regarding you my sweet:
If subjunctives were, in fact, and
Counterfactuals could be;
Hypothetical did happen,
Say; conditionals ran free,
And the straight lines went all wavy,
And the circles hunkered square,
And if milquetoasts went out roistering
When rowdies didn't dare,
Still I'd love you, sure as A is A
And and long as B is B--
Longer still, should they suspend the
Laws of self-identity.
Should that happen I would yet know
Certain certain certainties:
A) That B could then be not-B;
B) That B's could then be C's;
C) I'd know that I'd still love you
Even when I wasn't me;
Whom I then was would no doubt be
Too confused to disagree.
So if--given that all me's would have
My presnt attitude--
These subjunctives are indicative,
I'll never change my mood.
Aye, my love's ad infinitum;
Ab initio as well;
As ad hominem as always,
Thou dear dearest dear, thou swell;
I outlove all if's that are, were,
Might be, and that aren't, too,
For I love as I'd love you
If I loved you as I do.
And I love you madly, madly,
Past the point of making sense,
And I offer the foregoing
In the way of evidence.
Yes I love you deeply, darling.
But if depth leaves you perplexed,
This tractatus I retract and
Shall try shallow trifles next.
posted by kables at 4:09 PM on June 22, 2010 [5 favorites]
I Love You Deeply, Darling
Ethan Coen
If all geniuses were shallow
And if dullards were deep,
And our walking lives were but
Somebody's dreams who couldn't sleep.
And all nonsense bore repeating
And repeating didn't bore,
I would love you yet, and say so
Many times times many more.
And if all the world ran backwards
I would love you deeply still,
Til the rivers ran downriver
And the mountains ran uphill.
Yes, I love you to the point where
Logic and illogic meet,
And adduce as proof these sentiments
Regarding you my sweet:
If subjunctives were, in fact, and
Counterfactuals could be;
Hypothetical did happen,
Say; conditionals ran free,
And the straight lines went all wavy,
And the circles hunkered square,
And if milquetoasts went out roistering
When rowdies didn't dare,
Still I'd love you, sure as A is A
And and long as B is B--
Longer still, should they suspend the
Laws of self-identity.
Should that happen I would yet know
Certain certain certainties:
A) That B could then be not-B;
B) That B's could then be C's;
C) I'd know that I'd still love you
Even when I wasn't me;
Whom I then was would no doubt be
Too confused to disagree.
So if--given that all me's would have
My presnt attitude--
These subjunctives are indicative,
I'll never change my mood.
Aye, my love's ad infinitum;
Ab initio as well;
As ad hominem as always,
Thou dear dearest dear, thou swell;
I outlove all if's that are, were,
Might be, and that aren't, too,
For I love as I'd love you
If I loved you as I do.
And I love you madly, madly,
Past the point of making sense,
And I offer the foregoing
In the way of evidence.
Yes I love you deeply, darling.
But if depth leaves you perplexed,
This tractatus I retract and
Shall try shallow trifles next.
posted by kables at 4:09 PM on June 22, 2010 [5 favorites]
Once the realization is accepted that even between the closest human beings infinite distances continue to exist, a wonderful living side by side can grow up, if they succeed in loving the distance between them, which makes it possible for each to see the other whole against a wide sky.
- Rainer Maria Rilke
posted by vytae at 4:23 PM on June 22, 2010 [9 favorites]
- Rainer Maria Rilke
posted by vytae at 4:23 PM on June 22, 2010 [9 favorites]
Here's what we used at our wedding. From Corelli's Mandolin
"Love is a temporary madness, it erupts like volcanoes and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots are so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion. that is just being in love, which any fool can do. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident. Those that truly love have roots that grow towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossoms have fallen from their branches, they find that they are one tree and not two."
posted by Kicky at 4:23 PM on June 22, 2010 [5 favorites]
"Love is a temporary madness, it erupts like volcanoes and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots are so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion. that is just being in love, which any fool can do. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident. Those that truly love have roots that grow towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossoms have fallen from their branches, they find that they are one tree and not two."
posted by Kicky at 4:23 PM on June 22, 2010 [5 favorites]
Teodoro Luna's Two Kisses
by Alberto Ríos
Mr. Teodoro Luna in his later years had taken to kissing
His wife
Not so much with his lips as with his brows.
This is not to say he put his forehead
Against her mouth--
Rather, he would lift his eyebrows, once, quickly:
Not so vigorously he might be confused with the villain
Famous in the theaters, but not so little as to be thought
A slight movement, one of accident. This way
He kissed her
Often and quietly, across tables and through doorways,
Sometimes in photographs, and so through the years themselves.
This was his passion, that only she might see. The chance
He might feel some movement on her lips
Toward laughter.
posted by vytae at 4:25 PM on June 22, 2010 [3 favorites]
by Alberto Ríos
Mr. Teodoro Luna in his later years had taken to kissing
His wife
Not so much with his lips as with his brows.
This is not to say he put his forehead
Against her mouth--
Rather, he would lift his eyebrows, once, quickly:
Not so vigorously he might be confused with the villain
Famous in the theaters, but not so little as to be thought
A slight movement, one of accident. This way
He kissed her
Often and quietly, across tables and through doorways,
Sometimes in photographs, and so through the years themselves.
This was his passion, that only she might see. The chance
He might feel some movement on her lips
Toward laughter.
posted by vytae at 4:25 PM on June 22, 2010 [3 favorites]
Epithalamium, by Adam Zagajewski
Without silence there would be no music.
Life paired is doubtless more difficult
than solitary existence -
just as a boat on the open sea
with outstretched sails is trickier to steer
than the same boat drowsing at a dock, but schooners
after all are meant for wind and motion,
not idleness and impassive quiet.
A conversation continued through the years includes
hours of anxiety, anger, even hatred,
but also compassion, deep feeling.
Only in marriage do love and time,
eternal enemies, join forces.
Only love and time, when reconciled,
permit us to see other beings
in their enigmatic, complex essence,
unfolding slowly and certainly, like a new settlement
in a valley, or among green hills.
It begins from one day only, from joy
and pledges, from the holy day of meeting,
which is like a moist grain;
then come the years of trial and labor,
sometimes despair, fierce revelation,
happiness and finally a great tree
with rich greenery grows over us,
casting its vast shadow. Cares vanish in it.
posted by impluvium at 7:14 PM on June 22, 2010 [4 favorites]
Without silence there would be no music.
Life paired is doubtless more difficult
than solitary existence -
just as a boat on the open sea
with outstretched sails is trickier to steer
than the same boat drowsing at a dock, but schooners
after all are meant for wind and motion,
not idleness and impassive quiet.
A conversation continued through the years includes
hours of anxiety, anger, even hatred,
but also compassion, deep feeling.
Only in marriage do love and time,
eternal enemies, join forces.
Only love and time, when reconciled,
permit us to see other beings
in their enigmatic, complex essence,
unfolding slowly and certainly, like a new settlement
in a valley, or among green hills.
It begins from one day only, from joy
and pledges, from the holy day of meeting,
which is like a moist grain;
then come the years of trial and labor,
sometimes despair, fierce revelation,
happiness and finally a great tree
with rich greenery grows over us,
casting its vast shadow. Cares vanish in it.
posted by impluvium at 7:14 PM on June 22, 2010 [4 favorites]
This is just to say
I have not eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox
and which
you are probably
saving
for breakfast
I know
they are delicious
so sweet
and so cold
I bought cherries
and I will share them
with you
in the morning
posted by seanmpuckett at 5:10 AM on June 23, 2010 [2 favorites]
I have not eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox
and which
you are probably
saving
for breakfast
I know
they are delicious
so sweet
and so cold
I bought cherries
and I will share them
with you
in the morning
posted by seanmpuckett at 5:10 AM on June 23, 2010 [2 favorites]
This might be a little more... frank, maybe, than you're aiming for, but I love frank, and this poem, wildly.
Habitation
by Margaret Atwood
Marriage is not
a house or even a tent
it is before that, and colder:
The edge of the forest, the edge
of the desert
the unpainted stairs
at the back where we squat
outside, eating popcorn
where painfully and with wonder
at having survived even
this far
we are learning to make fire
posted by jesourie at 6:37 AM on June 23, 2010 [6 favorites]
Habitation
by Margaret Atwood
Marriage is not
a house or even a tent
it is before that, and colder:
The edge of the forest, the edge
of the desert
the unpainted stairs
at the back where we squat
outside, eating popcorn
where painfully and with wonder
at having survived even
this far
we are learning to make fire
posted by jesourie at 6:37 AM on June 23, 2010 [6 favorites]
Wislawa Szymborka has that poem that goes something like "true love, what is it" or something that comes to mind, but it's sort of double-edged to be honest. We had Yusef Komunyakaa's "Unnatural State of the Unicorn" read, but I realize it probably left guests scratching their heads as to why (it's pretty personal to me, and I have, well, kind of unorthodox notions of what getting married meant to me). No one knows who wrote the following (it gets attributed to "Roy Croft" but that seems like a pseudonym for a greeting card author or something IIRC) but we used it in our wedding invitations. I think it's perfect, personally.
I love you
Not only for what you are,
But for what I am
When I am with you.
I love you,
Not only for what
You have made of yourself,
But for what
You are making of me.
I love you
For the part of me
That you bring out;
I love you
For putting your hand
Into my heaped-up heart
And passing over
All the foolish, weak things
That you can't help
Dimly seeing there,
And for drawing out
Into the light
All the beautiful belongings
That no one else had looked
Quite far enough to find
I love you because you
Are helping me to make
Of the lumber of my life
Not a tavern
But a temple.
Out of the works
Of my every day
Not a reproach
But a song.
I love you
Because you have done
More than any creed
Could have done
To make me good.
And more than any fate
Could have done
To make me happy.
You have done it
Without a touch,
Without a word,
Without a sign.
You have done it
By being yourself.
Perhaps that is what
Being a friend means,
After all.
posted by ifjuly at 2:59 PM on June 23, 2010 [4 favorites]
I love you
Not only for what you are,
But for what I am
When I am with you.
I love you,
Not only for what
You have made of yourself,
But for what
You are making of me.
I love you
For the part of me
That you bring out;
I love you
For putting your hand
Into my heaped-up heart
And passing over
All the foolish, weak things
That you can't help
Dimly seeing there,
And for drawing out
Into the light
All the beautiful belongings
That no one else had looked
Quite far enough to find
I love you because you
Are helping me to make
Of the lumber of my life
Not a tavern
But a temple.
Out of the works
Of my every day
Not a reproach
But a song.
I love you
Because you have done
More than any creed
Could have done
To make me good.
And more than any fate
Could have done
To make me happy.
You have done it
Without a touch,
Without a word,
Without a sign.
You have done it
By being yourself.
Perhaps that is what
Being a friend means,
After all.
posted by ifjuly at 2:59 PM on June 23, 2010 [4 favorites]
I don't know if you're still checking this, but I just saw this post about wedding readings and it made me think of this thread. There are a wealth of ideas in this post and in the comments.
I love this from Tony Kushner:
Vows [part of the longer Epithamalion]
Conjunction, assemblage, congress, union:
Life isn’t meant to be lived alone.
A life apart is a desperate fiction.
Life is an intermediate business:
a field of light bordered by love
a sea of desire stretched between shores.
Marriage is the strength of union.
Marriage is the harmonic blend.
Marriage is the elegant dialectic of counterpoint.
Marriage is the faultless, fragile logic of ecology:
A reasonable process of give and take
unfolding through cyclical and linear time.
A wedding is the conjoining of systems in which
Neither loses its single splendor and both are completely
transformed. As, for example,
The dawn is the wedding of the Night and the Day,
and is neither, and both,
and is, in itself, the most beautiful time,
abundant artless beauty,
free and careless magnificence.
posted by apricot at 9:55 PM on June 26, 2010 [2 favorites]
I love this from Tony Kushner:
Vows [part of the longer Epithamalion]
Conjunction, assemblage, congress, union:
Life isn’t meant to be lived alone.
A life apart is a desperate fiction.
Life is an intermediate business:
a field of light bordered by love
a sea of desire stretched between shores.
Marriage is the strength of union.
Marriage is the harmonic blend.
Marriage is the elegant dialectic of counterpoint.
Marriage is the faultless, fragile logic of ecology:
A reasonable process of give and take
unfolding through cyclical and linear time.
A wedding is the conjoining of systems in which
Neither loses its single splendor and both are completely
transformed. As, for example,
The dawn is the wedding of the Night and the Day,
and is neither, and both,
and is, in itself, the most beautiful time,
abundant artless beauty,
free and careless magnificence.
posted by apricot at 9:55 PM on June 26, 2010 [2 favorites]
This thread is closed to new comments.
"Together they had overcome the daily incomprehension, the instantaneous hatred, the reciprocal nastiness, and fabulous flashes of glory in the conjugal conspiracy. It was time when they both loved each other best, without hurry or excess, when both were most conscious of and grateful for their incredible victories over adversity. Life would still present them with other moral trials, of course, but that no longer mattered: they were on the other shore."
posted by The Straightener at 2:23 PM on June 22, 2010 [7 favorites]