Veronica Franco – The Poetic Harlot

  1. a woman
  2. a prostitute
  3. a sharp tongued woman
  4. a poet of erotic poems that would put Lord Byron to shame
  5. a witch who was almost lynched by the holy church of crap
  6. a feminist walking around in what one would refer to as freedom
  7. in bed with king Henry III of France

I hope my after life will be that way. All my tardy skeletons forgotten in some old gutter where dogs find shelter. Little to find on the internet except wild speculation and assumptions.

My fascination with Veronica is total. Was she for real? I want to be her. Tomorrow. I want my real love to say no to me so I can become a courtesan, a good one. I want my real love to marry someone else so I can have the satisfaction of having him in my bed while his wife waits, dries up & becomes bitter. I want to read books and…oh what the hell!

I found a good article by Andrea Zuvich. I am in love with this woman and I am definitely ordering her poems!

On Women:

“When we too are armed and trained,
we can convince men that we have hands, feet, and a heart like yours;
and although we may be delicate and soft,
some men who are delicate are also strong;
and others, coarse and harsh, are cowards.
Women have not yet realized this, for if they should decide to do so,
they would be able to fight you until death;
and to prove that I speak the truth, amongst so many women,
I will be the first to act, setting an example for them to follow.” (Lettere Familari 1).

            On Love:

“ I will show you my heart open in my breast,
Once you no longer hide yours from me,

And my delight will be to please you;
And if you think I am so dear to Phoebus
For composing poems, in the works of love
You’ll find me dearer still to Venus…

Know well, cruel man, the world will hear of it,
And, along with my sweet and bitter revenge,
Will carry the news of it to every place on earth.” (Terze Rime 2).

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If you forget me – Pablo Neruda

I am a sucker for love poems. In the beginning, it was a total surprise for me that I could get so carried away. I do get carried away, and can read & re-read my favorites. This is one of my favorites on love, and one of my favorite poets too.

Pablo Neruda’s, If you forget me has been a way for me to define love for as long as I can remember. Below, I share it with you:

I want you to know one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look at the crystal moon, at the red branch of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch near the fire the impalpable ash or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you, as if everything that exists, aromas, light, metals,
were little boats that sail toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad, the wind of banners that passes through my life,
and you decide to leave me at the shore of the heart where I have roots, remember that on that day, at that hour,
I shall lift my arms and my roots will set off to seek another land.

But if each day, each hour, you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness, if each day a flower climbs up to your lips to seek me,

ah my love, ah my own,

in me all that fire is repeated, in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten, my love feeds on your love, beloved, and as long as you live it will be in your arms without leaving mine.