Why I Write About Love
Choosing Positive Love Poetry isn't naive; it's a deliberate act of strength and hope.
People ask me sometimes, usually with a half-smile that suggests they already know the answer, why I write about love. As if love poetry were a quaint relic, something reserved for greeting cards and wedding toasts, hardly serious enough for a grown poet with something to say.
I understand the question. We live in a culture that treats cynicism as intelligence and skepticism about love as sophistication. But here is what I write toward instead: Positive Love Poetry. A movement that dwells on the synergy between lovers and the rejuvenating, healing power of love, with insightful verse readers can relate to their own lives.
Love Is Not Naive: It's Brave
I don't write about love because I'm unaware of hardship. I write about love because I've seen what happens when people recognize truths, forge ahead with good intentions, and treat their loved ones with patience. That's not naivety. That's courage. And it is the rejuvenating, healing poetry that so many readers are looking for.
Love is not a feeling you fall into; it's a garden you tend.
This philosophy shapes everything I write. My poems aren't fairy tales. They include difficult mornings and miscommunications. But they also include the coffee shared in silence, the hammock flipping in a barrel roll, the ship pulling anchor into an unknown future. Concrete images, not vague sentiment.
Why Visual, Concrete Imagery Matters
Vague poetry lets readers drift. Concrete poetry lands. When I write about Love crouching at the starting line, or two people racing for an empty hammock, or extra-crunchy peanut butter instead of the watered-down kind, I'm giving you something you can see and feel. Love becomes present, not abstract.
When I write a poem like Confident in the Strength of Imperfection or Cool Calm and Collected, Biting Its Lower Lip, I'm doing something counter-cultural. I'm saying: connection matters. Your relationship matters. The specific, visual moments matter. You don't have to be perfect to be perfectly loved.
An Invitation
If you've ever felt that love poetry wasn't for you, that it was too sentimental or too removed from real life, I invite you to read differently. Start with We Say It Like We Mean It. See if the starting line, the beckoning arms, and the choice to stay focused don't feel like something you've lived.
Love deserves poets who tell the truth with their eyes open. That's the only kind I know how to be.