Love Makes All Things Equal
Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem
My wants are arms alone.
My rest is war;
My bed long lasting woes,
Sleep unending vigil.
Don Quixote, first part, chapter II
Suppose we do with love what love requires.
This means ordeals, since love wants each warm soul.
Unlovely ones who don’t inspire desires
Demand our deepest spirit’s self-control
Like Francis kissing leprosy’s wet wound.
Take old men who are alcoholics, or
A loud mouth in a MAGA face untuned
By wisdom or decorum—or a whore
Who has to earn an income for her child.
We see the scars where she’s been shooting horse.
We have to hug the worst unreconciled,
The brute we left behind in our divorce.
We have to lie in beds of pains
And think that love at last will ransom stains.
~ Phillip Whidden
by phillipw | Jan 20, 2024 | AG, CE, SA |