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USM Love Poems

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For Valentine's Day 2019 we asked  the USM Community to write love poems to USM.  Here is what they sent: 


Haiku to USM

I adore my job
There's an us in USM
We are meant to be.





Dear USM,

I love you when you're open, I love you when  you're closed.
I love you when your snow days leave me home in comfy clothes.

I love you when it's winter. I love you in summertime.
I love you every day, dearest alma mater of mine.

(To the tune of the poem in 10 Things I Hate About You...don't judge).





Chocolates for me

No chocolates for you

USM colors

Are gold and blue




Campus cloaked in snow.
When winter winds cancel class,
Huskies fall in love.  




Ode to the One that is Always There

Today we are obliged to be romantic
And think of yet another Valentine.
What about our dear USM, on our very own coastline?
She is patient, she is giving, sometimes even a bit submitting
Just like any couple we exist, we fight!
We talk about what’s wrong and what’s right
We take the bad and the good, just like any of us would
She fulfills our dreams and gives us some pain
We cling to her and want her to remain the same
But life is ever changing and that is her game.
What will the future bring?  The good old days are in the past
But the memories are strong and they last
My journey here is old and long, not new and frantic
But today’s the day we have to be romantic. So…
You know I’m yours and I know you are mine
And saying that has made me feel divine
You have been a dear, steady, old friend
One I would highly recommend
My dearest USM, I do really love you so
Even if you really didn’t know…

Love,
Me




A Fun USM Limerick!

USM is a wonderful college
Where faculty impart their knowledge
To students profound
From everywhere around
So bright we wonder their wattage!!





Here's my (semi) original poem:

Oh, how do I love thee, USM,
Illuminating brightly in the night?
I love thee to the depth, breadth and height
of coursing vibrance up through STEM,
In pursuit of learning and acclaim.
I love thee whether boon or plight
accepted bravely, without fright,
I love thee soundly and reframe:
I love thee and blissful find,
I love thee, and in kind,
for USM I must praise and cheer from highest peak,
a love that effervesces in the mind
and out rushes praise of which I speak.

With a tip o' the pen to Elizabeth Barrett Browning ;)




Valentine’s Day 2019
I awoke this day
And remembered then
It’s Valentine’s Day and I’m going to work at USM!
Oh boy I thought
What should I wear?
Something pink or red
Does anyone care?

I had my coffee
And thought of the many days
I’ve spent working at USM
In many different ways

I can’t wait to see the students
And their valentine clothes
Love is in the air
Right after it snows!

What will the staff and faculty do?
Maybe bring lots of sweets
I’ll post something on Facebook
And do a few Tweets
It’s part of my job for CSTH
Life at USM is great!






The season of love at USM
As I wonder through the wild.
Lost in the secrets of clouds.
I climb the mountain of hope.
Finding a tree deeply rooted.
Blossoming beautifully.
The path to love is within.
Fertile beautiful nature.







How fun!  Here is my USM love poem - a series of haikus.

Champ! Bestill my heart.
My affection is tinted
Blue and Gold for you.

Location no barrier
Gorham, Portland, Lewiston.
Love you too, Online.

Warm welcome for all,
University of Everyone!
Supporting your growth.




With dancing trees and winding walkways,

The eclectic buildings stand tall and greet the sun’s rays.



Birds happily chirping and singing the day’s mood,

I can’t help but have such a delightful attitude.

 

For each place in this world has its own rhyme and way,

I can’t help but be grateful that USM is where I get to start my day.

Happy Valentine's Day!




Ode To My Favorite Parking Space

I climb the hill with anticipation.
The sight of you cruelly hidden by yon snowbank.
Are you there?
Are you there?
YES!
Next to the tree, but not under it!
(For shade, not bird-poop)
Next to the lamppost, but not under it!
(For light, not bird-poop)
I glide into your embrace.
SAFE!
(Until lunch)




Roses are red
The grass is green
USM is the only school
Where I want to be seen!




I'll go with a haiku. If I recall correctly they are 3 lines,  5, 7, then 5 syllables with a nature focus:

Icy walkways or
hot classrooms, every season
we have each other.




Roses are red and Huskies don’t lie.
USM’s sweet and so am I.

 

 

 

Earlier that week, we asked the USM Community what their most favorite love poems of all time are.  Here are the responses:


You are a ukulele beyond my microphone
You are a Yukon beyond my Micronesia
You are a union beyond my meiosis
You are a unicycle beyond my migration
You are a universe beyond my mitochondria
You are a Eucharist beyond my Miles Davis
You are a euphony beyond my myocardiogram
You are a unicorn beyond my Minotaur
You are a eureka beyond my maitai
You are a Yuletide beyond my minesweeper
You are a euphemism beyond my myna bird




You were put in my path
It seems like just yesterday
Distracted, I fell, hard
You took my hand, helped me to my feet
We never let go
Now we help each other
With every step, we move forward
Together




She Walks in Beauty
BY LORD BYRON (GEORGE GORDON)
She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes;
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o’er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express,
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

And on that cheek, and o’er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!
 





[i carry your heart with me(i carry it in]

By E. E. Cummings
i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
                                                      i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)
Meet in her aspect and her eyes;
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o’er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express,
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

And on that cheek, and o’er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!





Funeral Blues

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message 'He is Dead'.
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.



"I Carry Your Heart with Me" by e.e. cummings :)


Every single poem in "Love Poems for Married People" by John Kenney.

This is one of my fav's:

You Sort of Thought of Me

Thank you for thinking of me
sort of
on my birthday
You asked me what I wanted
and I said oh nothing.
But you asked again
and I said jewelry might be nice.
Earrings maybe.
Diamond ones
you said with a sky smile.
And I smiled too
And then it was my birthday
and you gave me a gift card to
Banana Republic.
I think they have jewelry there
you said.
They sure do, But
not diamonds.
Thank you.




Roses are Red
Violets are Blue
USM is Cool
And so are You!





Shakespeare's Sonnet 116




My favorite of the moment is Coming Home by Mary Oliver! Thanks!




Love is Not All (Sonnet XXX)
Edna St. Vincent Millay, 1892 - 1950
 Love is not all: it is not meat nor drink
Nor slumber nor a roof against the rain;
Nor yet a floating spar to men that sink
And rise and sink and rise and sink again;
Love can not fill the thickened lung with breath,
Nor clean the blood, nor set the fractured bone;
Yet many a man is making friends with death
Even as I speak, for lack of love alone.
It well may be that in a difficult hour,
Pinned down by pain and moaning for release,
Or nagged by want past resolution’s power,
I might be driven to sell your love for peace,
Or trade the memory of this night for food.
It well may be. I do not think I would.




"How I love Thee, Let me Count the Ways"
Elizabeth Barrett Browning




roses are red violets are blue
you are the one who doesn't make me blue!




“Late Spring” from Felicity part II called Love

Finally the world is beginning

to change, its fevers mounting,

its leaves unfolding.

And the mockingbirds find

ample reason and breath to fashion

new songs. They do. You can

count on it.

As for lovers, they are discovering

new ways to love. Listen, their windows are open.

You can hear them laughing.

Without spring who knows what would happen.

A lot  of nothing, I suppose.

The leaves are all in motion now

the way a young boy rows and rows

in his wooden boat, just to get anywhere.

Late, late, but now lovely and lovelier.

And the two of us, together – a part of it.

– Mary Oliver





"I seem to have loved you in numberless forms, numberless times....in life after life, in age after age, forever" - "Unending Love" by Rabindranath Tagore




One Hundred Love Sonnets: XVII
BY PABLO NERUDA
TRANSLATED BY MARK EISNER
I don’t love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz,   
or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:   
I love you as one loves certain obscure things,   
secretly, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that doesn’t bloom but carries   
the light of those flowers, hidden, within itself,   
and thanks to your love the tight aroma that arose   
from the earth lives dimly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,   
I love you directly without problems or pride:
I love you like this because I don’t know any other way to love,
except in this form in which I am not nor are you,   
so close that your hand upon my chest is mine,   
so close that your eyes close with my dreams.




All through eternity

Beauty unveils His exquisite form

in the solitude of nothingness;

He holds a mirror to His Face

and beholds His own beauty.

he is the knower and the known,

the seer and the seen;

No eye but His own

has ever looked upon this Universe.

 

His every quality finds an expression:

Eternity becomes the verdant field of Time and Space;

Love, the life-giving garden of this world.

Every branch and leaf and fruit

Reveals an aspect of His perfection-

They cypress give hint of His majesty,

The rose gives tidings of His beauty.

 

Whenever Beauty looks,

Love is also there;

Whenever beauty shows a rosy cheek

Love lights Her fire from that flame.

When beauty dwells in the dark folds of night

Love comes and finds a heart

entangled in tresses.

Beauty and Love are as body and soul.

Beauty is the mine, Love is the diamond.

 

They have together

since the beginning of time-

Side by side, step by step.



By Rumi







Roses are red, Violets are blue, Sugar is sweet and so are you: )






Roses are Red
Violets are Blue
Everyone needs love
and I want to be loved by you!

Won't you be my Valentine?





A Red, Red Rose
BY ROBERT BURNS
O my Luve is like a red, red rose
   That’s newly sprung in June;
O my Luve is like the melody
   That’s sweetly played in tune.

So fair art thou, my bonnie lass,
   So deep in luve am I;
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
   Till a’ the seas gang dry.

Till a’ the seas gang dry, my dear,
   And the rocks melt wi’ the sun;
I will love thee still, my dear,
   While the sands o’ life shall run.

And fare thee weel, my only luve!
   And fare thee weel awhile!
And I will come again, my luve,
   Though it were ten thousand mile.





 “To the Desert” by Benjamin Alire Sáenz
I came to you one rainless August night.
You taught me how to live without the rain.
You are thirst and thirst is all I know.
You are sand, wind, sun, and burning sky,
The hottest blue. You blow a breeze and brand
Your breath into my mouth. You reach—then bend
Your force, to break, blow, burn, and make me new.
You wrap your name tight around my ribs
And keep me warm. I was born for you.
Above, below, by you, by you surrounded.
I wake to you at dawn. Never break your
Knot. Reach, rise, blow, Sálvame, mi dios,
Trágame, mi tierra. Salva, traga, Break me,
I am bread. I will be the water for your thirst.



You are my sunshine



sonnet XVII by Pablo Neruda
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.
Pablo Neruda





Not all of us can do great things. But we can do small things with great love. Mother Teresa







The Life of Love
Spring
Come, my beloved; let us walk amidst the knolls,
For the snow is water, and Life is alive from its
Slumber and is roaming the hills and valleys.
Let us follow the footprints of Spring into the
Distant fields, and mount the hilltops to draw
Inspiration high above the cool green plains.
 
Dawn of Spring has unfolded her winter-kept garment
And placed it on the peach and citrus trees; and
They appear as brides in the ceremonial custom of
the Night of Kedre.
 
The sprigs of grapevine embrace each other like
Sweethearts, and the brooks burst out in dance
Between the rocks, repeating the song of joy;
And the flowers bud suddenly from the heart of
Nature, like foam from the rich heart of the sea.
 
Come, my beloved; let us drink the last of Winter's
Tears from the cupped lilies, and soothe our spirits
With the shower of notes from the birds, and wander
In exhilaration through the intoxicating breeze.
 
Let us sit by that rock, where violets hide; let us
Pursue their exchange of the sweetness of kisses.
Summer
Let us go into the fields, my beloved, for the
Time of harvest approaches, and the sun's eyes
Are ripening the grain.
Let us tend the fruit of the earth, as the
Spirit nourishes the grains of Joy from the
Seeds of Love, sowed deep in our hearts.
Let us fill our bins with the products of
Nature, as life fills so abundantly the
Domain of our hearts with her endless bounty.
Let us make the flowers our bed, and the
Sky our blanket, and rest our heads together
Upon pillows of soft hay.
Let us relax after the day's toil, and listen
To the provoking murmur of the brook.
Autumn
Let us go and gather grapes in the vineyard
For the winepress, and keep the wine in old
Vases, as the spirit keeps Knowledge of the
Ages in eternal vessels.
 
Let us return to our dwelling, for the wind has
Caused the yellow leaves to fall and shroud the
Withering flowers that whisper elegy to Summer.
Come home, my eternal sweetheart, for the birds
Have made pilgrimage to warmth and lest the chilled
Prairies suffering pangs of solitude. The jasmine
And myrtle have no more tears.
 
Let us retreat, for the tired brook has
Ceased its song; and the bubblesome springs
Are drained of their copious weeping; and
Their cautious old hills have stored away
Their colorful garments.
 
Come, my beloved; Nature is justly weary
And is bidding her enthusiasm farewell
With quiet and contented melody.
Winter
Come close to me, oh companion of my full life;
Come close to me and let not Winter's touch
Enter between us. Sit by me before the hearth,
For fire is the only fruit of Winter.
 
Speak to me of the glory of your heart, for
That is greater than the shrieking elements
Beyond our door.
Bind the door and seal the transoms, for the
Angry countenance of the heaven depresses my
Spirit, and the face of our snow-laden fields
Makes my soul cry.
 
Feed the lamp with oil and let it not dim, and
Place it by you, so I can read with tears what
Your life with me has written upon your face.
 
Bring Autumn's wine. Let us drink and sing the
Song of remembrance to Spring's carefree sowing,
And Summer's watchful tending, and Autumn's
Reward in harvest.
 
Come close to me, oh beloved of my soul; the
Fire is cooling and fleeing under the ashes.
Embrace me, for I fear loneliness; the lamp is
Dim, and the wine which we pressed is closing
Our eyes. Let us look upon each other before
They are shut.
Find me with your arms and embrace me; let
Slumber then embrace our souls as one.
Kiss me, my beloved, for Winter has stolen
All but our moving lips.
 
You are close by me, My Forever.
How deep and wide will be the ocean of Slumber,
And how recent was the dawn!





She Walks in Beauty by Lord Byron
She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellow'd to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade more, one ray less,
Had half impair'd the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o'er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling place.
And on that cheek, and o'er that brow
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!




Psalm 183
by Joseph Zitt
EmailPrint
Pardon me if I seem to cop an attitude
But the attitude is one of worship
And is, I think, sincere.
My heart swells
against the prison of my ribs
And grows to keep my lungs from seeking air.
Still the breath is not pushed out
By such a simple force as pride
But by the glory of my dreaming
That I might, perhaps, be loved
By you.

Pardon me if I'm moved to endless chatter
But I fear that the beauty of the silence,
As I watch your distant eyes
Caress the words I have arranged
As atonement, on the page, as sacrifice,
Might cause my soul to rise
Above this flesh
And leave inert these hands
With which I spell these prayers
Against your thighs.

Pardon me;
I burden you with too much honour.
I know you are no goddess,
Simply human,
Still alive.
The others who I prayed would love me
Ran,
Or else I was the one to run.
And yet their cracked reflections
Howl to me from pools of molten glass
Within my hidden pantheon.
I know you've missed perfection,
But your quirks and flaws
Are not personal betrayals,
But are the marks left
By the kiss of angels,
Allowing you to live within
This far too real world.

Pardon me if these songs of praise defile you
But I'll try to keep my hosannahs
To a quiet whisper,
And try, as I stroke your face,
Not to inscribe the Holy Name upon your brow,
Not to believe that you are both
Creator and Creation
And that you, therefore,
Must obey my will.
For as I rest
My head upon your shoulder
My lips against your throat,
I read your pulse as the rhythm
Of the rushing of the waves,
Your breaths as the passage
Of clouds against a bright and empty sky,
The gentle motion of your breasts
As the soft processional of continents,
As, within this dark and silent world,
We define
A temporary world of our own.


“For small creatures such as we the vastness is bearable only through love.”
— Carl Sagan



A Gift From God
Love can't be described.
It has no shape, it has no form.
Love is not an object.
Love does not conform.

Love enters our lives
The moment we are born.
From the cradle to the grave,
Love's in everyone.

Love burns like a candle
That sometimes flickers but never dies.
Love may be invisible,
Although it's right before your eyes,

Love can leave you empty,
Love can make you whole.
Love can make or break you,
Love is in your soul.

Love is in your heart,
Love is in your mind.
Love doesn't discriminate,
Love is always blind.

Love is universal,
It encompasses the globe.
No matter where you are,
Love has a language all its own.

Love is all around you.
There's plenty of love to spare.
You cannot see or touch it,
But love is everywhere.

Love's the greatest power,
And yet it is so small.
Love's a gift from God
To be shared amongst us all.



You & I by Lenard Nimoy


a map of the world :: ted kooser
One of the ancient maps of the world
is heart-shaped, carefully drawn
and once washed with bright colors,
though the colors have faded
as you might expect feelings to fade
from a fragile old heart, the brown map
of a life. But feeling is indelible,
and longing infinite, a starburst compass
pouting in all the directions
two lovers might go, a fresh breeze
swelling their sails, the future uncharted,
still far from the edge
where the sea pours into the stars.