Eggplant.place

8d

Not a red rose or a satin heart.

I give you an onion.
It is a moon wrapped in brown paper.
It promises light
like the careful undressing of love…

—Carol Ann Duffy, “Valentine”
published in A Red Rose or a Satin Heart: An Anthology of Scottish Love Poems, @canongatebooks 2010
💝

#Scottish #literature #ValentinesDay #poem #poetry #womenwriters #lovepoem #CarolAnnDuffy

Valentine
Carol Ann Duffy

Not a red rose or a satin heart.

I give you an onion.
It is a moon wrapped in brown paper.
It promises light
like the careful undressing of love.

Here.
It will blind you with tears
like a lover.
It will make your reflection
a wobbling photo of grief.

I am trying to be truthful.

Not a cute card or a kissogram.

I give you an onion.
Its fierce kiss will stay on your lips,
possessive and faithful
as we are,
for as long as we are.

Take it.
Its platinum loops shrink to a wedding ring,
if you like.
Lethal.
Its scent will cling to your fingers,
cling to your knife.

ALT

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8d

When you go,
if you go,
and I should want to die,
there’s nothing I’d be saved by
more than the time
you fell asleep in my arms…

—Edwin Morgan, “When You Go”
published in CENTENARY SELECTED POEMS (Carcanet, 2020)

https://www.carcanet.co.uk/cgi-bin/indexer?product=9781784109967

#Scottish #literature #ValentinesDay #LGBTQ #LGBTQplusHM #poem #poetry #Valentine #lovepoem #lovepoetry #EdwinMorgan

When you go
Edwin Morgan

When you go,
if you go,
and I should want to die,
there's nothing I’d be saved by
more than the time
you fell asleep in my arms
in a trust so gentle
I let the darkening room
drink up the evening, till
rest, or the new rain
lightly roused you awake.
I asked if you heard the rain in your dream
and half dreaming still you only said, I love you.

ALT

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8d

O dastram, dastram,
Dastram Mòrag!
Rìbhinn bhuidh’, bhasdalach,
Leac-ruiteach ròsach…

—Alasdair Mac Mhaighstir Alasdair, bho “Moladh Mòrag”
published in DASTRAM/DELIRIUM: Selected Poems of Alasdair Mac Mhaighstir Alasdair, Versions by Taylor Strickland (Broken Sleep Books, 2023)

https://www.brokensleepbooks.com/product-page/taylor-strickland-dastram-delirium

#Scottish #literature #Gaidhlig #Gaelic #ValentinesDay #poem #poetry #18thcentury #love #lovepoem #lovepoetry

bho Moladh Mòraig
Alasdair Mac Mhaighstir Alasdair

O dastram, dastram,
Dastram Mòrag!
Rìbhinn bhuidh’, bhasdalach,
Leac-ruiteach ròsach;
A gruaidhean air lasadh
Mar an lasair-chlach dhathte,
’S a deud mar a’ sneachda,
Cruinn-shnaighte ’n dlùth òrdugh;
Ri Venus cho tlachdmhor
An taitneachdainn fheòlmhor,
Ri Dido cho maiseach,
Cho snasmhor ’s cho còrr rith’;
’S e thionnsgain dhomh caitheamh
’S a lùghdaich mo ràithean,
A’ bhallag ghrinn laghach
Chuir na gathan sa ’m fheòil-sa.

ALT

from Praised be Morag
translated by Taylor Strickland

Delirium! Delirium
from her, a girl blonde,
lurid: how she snuffs out
her own flint-spark glow,
and in one white bite
hewn from snow.
As sex and excess,
as body and beauty,
so Dido, so Venus,
so Morag ravishes
my seasons,
my genius
spent.
A girl with sharp agency
can pierce the heart
clean through.

ALT

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8d

Here is a letter
come across the ocean
over the back of a world
curved like a whale…

—Hugh McMillan, “Letter”
published in THE OTHER CREATURES IN THE WOOD (Mariscat, 2014)

https://www.scottishpoetrylibrary.org.uk/poem/letter/

#Scottish #literature #ValentinesDay #poem #poetry #lovepoem #lovepoetry #Valentine

Letter
Hugh McMillan

Here is a letter
come across the ocean
over the back of a world
curved like a whale.
I unwrap it, like tissue,
and sentences spill out,
as though the seal on a jar has broken,
coils of cornflower blue
on paper thin as shell.

I saw a sailor’s valentine once
in a museum in Nantucket Sound,
a mosaic of broken scallop
glued in a compass rose.
‘Writ from the heart’ it said.
Words come best like that:
in ink or blood,
when the source is from a major vein.

I read, and understand this much:
if ink sees off time and miles, then so must love.

ALT

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8d

Like the Idalian queene,
Her haire about her eyne,
With necke and brests ripe apples to be seene,
At first glance of the morne
In Cyprus gardens gathering those faire flowrs
Which of her bloud were borne…

—William Drummond of Hawthornden (1585–1649), “Like the Idalian queene”

https://asls.org.uk/publications/books/volumes/jacobean-parnassus/

#Scottish #literature #ValentinesDay #Valentine #17thcentury #earlymodern #poem #poetry #lovepoem #lovepoetry

“Like the Idalian queene”
by William Drummond of Hawthornden

Like the Idalian queene,
Her haire about her eyne,
With necke and brests ripe apples to be seene,
At first glance of the morne
In Cyprus gardens gathering those faire flowrs
Which of her bloud were borne,
I saw, but fainting saw, my paramours.
The Graces naked danc’d about the place,
The winds and trees, amaz’d,
With silence on her gaz’d,
The flowrs did smile, like those upon her face;
And as their aspine stalkes those fingers band,
That shee might read my case
A hyacinth I wisht mee in her hand.

ALT

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8d

There were never strawberries
like the ones we had
that sultry afternoon
sitting on the step
of the open french window
facing each other
your knees held in mine…

—Edwin Morgan, “Strawberries”🍓
published in CENTENARY SELECTED POEMS (Carcanet, 2020)

https://www.carcanet.co.uk/cgi-bin/indexer?product=9781784109967

#Scottish #literature #ValentinesDay #poem #poetry #LGBTQ #LGBTQplusHM #Valentine #lovepoem #lovepoetry #EdwinMorgan #20thcentury

Strawberries
Edwin Morgan

There were never strawberries
like the ones we had
that sultry afternoon
sitting on the step
of the open french window
facing each other
your knees held in mine
the blue plates in our laps
the strawberries glistening
in the hot sunlight
we dipped them in sugar
looking at each other
not hurrying the feast
for one to come
the empty plates

laid on the stone together
with the two forks crossed
and I bent towards you
sweet in that air
in my arms
abandoned like a child
from your eager mouth
the taste of strawberries
in my memory
lean back again
let me love you

let the sun beat
on our forgetfulness
one hour of all
the heat intense
and summer lightning
on the Kilpatrick hills

let the storm wash the plates

ALT

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8d

Whether the weather be dreich or fair, my luve,
if guid times greet us, or we hae tae face the worst,
ahint and afore whit will happen tae us…

—Jackie Kay, “A Lang Promise”
published in BANTAM (Picador, 2017)

https://www.panmacmillan.com/authors/jackie-kay/bantam/9781509887927

#Scottish #literature #ValentinesDay #Valentine #poem #poetry #LGBTQ #LGBTQplusHM #lovepoem #lovepoetry #Scots #Scotslanguage #womenwriters #JackieKay

A Lang Promise
Jackie Kay

Whether the weather be dreich or fair, my luve,
if guid times greet us, or we hae tae face the worst,
ahint and afore whit will happen tae us:
blind in the present, eyes open to the furore,
unkempt or perjink, suddenly puir or poorly,
peely-wally or in fine fettle, beld or frosty,
calm as a ghoul or in a feery-farry,
in dork December or in springy spring weather,
doon by the Barrows, or on the Champs-Élysées,
at midnight, first licht, whether the mune
be roond or crescent, and yer o' soond mind
or absent, I'll tak your trusty haun
and lead you over the haw – hame, ma darlin.
I’ll carry ma lantern, and daur defend ye agin ony foe;
and whilst there is breath in me, I'll blaw it intae ye.
Fir ye are ma true luve, the bonnie face I see;
nichts I fall intae slumber, it’s ye swimming up
in all yer guidness and blitheness, yer passion.
You’ll be mine, noo, an’ till the end o’ time,
ma bonnie lassie, I’ll tak the full guid o’ ye
and gie it back, and gie it back tae ye:
a furst kiss, a lang promise, time’s gowden ring.

ALT

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266d

Love rules. Love laughs. Love marches. Love is the wolf that guards the gate.
Love is the food of music, art, poetry. It fills us and fuels us and fires us to create.
Love is terror. Love is sweat. Love is bashed pillow, crumpled sheet, unenviable fate…

—Edwin Morgan, “Love”
A poem for Pride Month 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️
published in A BOOK OF LIVES (Carcanet, 2011)

https://www.carcanet.co.uk/9781857549188/a-book-of-lives/

#Scottish #literature #EdwinMorgan #poem #poetry #love #lovepoem #loveislove #Pride #PrideMonth #PrideMonth2025

Love
by Edwin Morgan

Love rules. Love laughs. Love marches. Love is the wolf that guards the gate.
Love is the food of music, art, poetry. It fills us and fuels us and fires us to create.
Love is terror. Love is sweat. Love is bashed pillow, crumpled sheet, unenviable fate.
Love is the honour that kills and saves and nothing will ever let that high ambiguity abate.
Love is the crushed ice that tingles and shivers and clinks fidgin-fain for the sugar-drenched absinthe to fall on it and alter its state.
With love you send a probe
So far from the globe
No one can name the shoals the voids the belts the zones the drags the flares it signals all to leave all and to navigate.

ALT

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265d

Whether the weather be dreich or fair, my luve,
if guid times greet us, or we hae tae face the worst,
ahint and afore whit will happen tae us:
blind in the present, eyes open to the furore…

—Jackie Kay, “A Lang Promise”
published in BANTAM (Picador, 2017)

A poem for Pride Month 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️

https://www.panmacmillan.com/authors/jackie-kay/bantam/9781509887927

#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry #Scots #Scotslanguage #love #lovepoem #Pride #PrideMonth #JackieKay