Valentine

Valentine

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 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.

Carol Ann Duffy 1993




I had wanted to post this on Valentine's Day but what a cliche it would have been. I'm above cliches by the way. So when I remembered my embarrassing intent last night while I was in the lift, I decided to share it with you. (I may be above cliches but I'm constantly a contradiction)

I was introduced to Carol Ann Duffy by a friend in 2000. She was looking for a copy of "Mean Time" which was where the poem below, Valentine, was first published in. She in turn was introduced to this poet by her English Literature teacher in college. She thought I might have a better chance at getting a copy (without significant mark up and shipping charges) where I was. It was near the summer break and I could pack it along with the rest of my luggage when I return home.

I think I found a copy of Mean Time in Blackwell. I cannot remember if I really did. Haven't met said friend for ages. I cannot remember if I actually brought it back for her. But I know I have a copy of Carol Ann Duffy's Selected Poems.

The poem is a scorching treatment of love.

No cliched red rose or satin heart - nothing commercial. Nothing common.

Comparing it to an onion. A moon is like a cliched promise eg. Paula Abdul's Forever Your Girl - He could promise the moon | And the stars above | Even if he promise me the world | Just remember | I'm forever your girl |

The onion promises "light" - lightness in steps taken when basking in glory of love. Light as from complete contentment. But one must be careful in the treatment of it.

It can make you cry like a lover. And why is it that girls (not sure about guys) are often portrayed to be crying in front of a mirror - hence "a wobbling photo of grief".

She doesn't mince her words or try to saccharin-coat her intentions. She then likens the taste of onion that "lingers" to that of a lover's kiss.

And as you unravel the layers of this love, you find in it a ring. Like a committment. Platinum in colour (not the local varietal which would be purple - GoldHeart Purple Gold).

But she allows a choice: "if you like".

And it clings.