Love Stinks Valentine’s Day event was a change. It was a divergence from the usual positive attention that Valentine’s Day receives. Growing up, my understanding of what that day represents was pretty much limited to “candy grams”. Candy grams were distributed by my school on Valentine’s Day, and they were basically a group of hearts cut out of red and pink paper, with small chocolates taped to them. Each heart had a “From” and “To” section and the person sending it would write their name and that of the person they’re sending it to. The candy grams would then be delivered to each class, where we all impatiently waited to see who had sent us chocolate! How happy we would be if the sender wrote “Secret Admirer!” Valentine’s Day in school brought a lot of “crushes” together but it also broke a few girls’ hearts. Eventually, I realized that there was more to Valentine’s Day than candy grams; it was a day for couples to make each other feel special! Come on! That’s so lame! So people actually wait all year long to make their “significant other” feel special? If you’re really that in love, you can just celebrate your love on each others birthdays or something! There you go, two times a year instead of one! Okay, back to the event now. Love Stinks Valentine’s Day highlighted views about love (through poems), that opposed the usual wave of admiration and enthusiasm towards love. Those views may be considered a bit cynical by some people, but I personally find them realistic. For as beautiful as love may be, it certainly comes with a lot of responsibilities and attachments that can sometimes be so draining. This was the poem I liked most.
Valentine by 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.
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.
Its platinum loops shrink to a wedding-ring,
if you like.
Its scent will cling to your fingers,
cling to your knife.