Tag Archives: love poems

How to Love an Introvert Part III

If possible
become someone else
thicken your skin
be ready
and brace yourself
for rejection
that will come
as an apology
your introvert knows
he exists in a world
ruled by the
social appetites
of extroverts
and even though
you are not one of them
you’ve conformed
to the expectations
of the social order
and have taken
great care
to filter your thoughts
before you speak
and master
the appropriate
responses to benign
and ordinary questions
how was your day
but don’t you dare
waste his precious time
with questions
that don’t
draw out of him
the essence of
who he is
which you suspect
will resemble you
in your purest form.







“Moonlight” by Winslow Homer 1894

How to Love an Introvert Part II

Don’t make him ask
for space
stand back
way back
wait to be invited in
and never stay too long
or try to expand
his sanctum of solitude
which will only ever
be big enough for one
and occasionally you
might find
that your introvert
seems to be
missing you
in the familiar way
you’re used to missing him
but don’t believe
for a moment
that this means
you will inhabit his future
in any conceivable reality
so be sensitive
to the limits
of your loved one
and never
never expect to mean
as much to him
as he means to you.







“Baleen” by Andrew Wyeth 1982


How to Love an Introvert

Use caution always
approach slowly
and never unexpectedly
try to understand he doesn’t need you
or anyone else
unless your presence enhances
his perfectly honed
and preferred solitude
and try not to take it personally
when you realize planting seeds
and picking ripe raspberries
and making jam
are just a few of the many activities
your introvert enjoys most
while being alone
with the entertaining thoughts
inside his head
and don’t be surprised
that most of his days won’t include you
and you might sometimes
feel the frustration of not being necessary
and you might find yourself in tears
some nights
wishing for a balance of need
but your introvert is offering you
exactly what you are offering him
which happens to be everything
each of you have to give.







“The Sower” by Vincent van Gogh 1888




Baking brownies
makes me feel
at peace
with the amount
of turmoil in my life
which is probably
not much
or less
than yours—
whoever you are
reading this poem
on a Friday night—
and if you’re reading
this poem on a Friday night
you’d probably rather
be elsewhere
the one
you love—
the one who
happens to be
at the place we’ve
identified as elsewhere
so you should make sure
you have a couple of eggs
and cocoa powder and sugar
because baking brownies
is a temporary bridge
back to that state
of being mostly
content and






“Dutch Girl Having Breakfast” by Jean-Etienne Liotard, 1756

Yesterday Morning

Floating downstream
in the middle of the river
I had you alone
to myself
and it felt like
we belonged there
as much as the turtles
and the great blue herons
startled into flight
by our strange wings
dipping into the water—
and it felt like calm
had finally arrived
to replace the doubt
that kept trying
to pull me under—
and for the first time
it seemed as though you
(who have never been lost)
might not be able
to find your way home
if we were parted
by the currents
and set adrift
in opposite directions.









She and Me

He doesn’t tell her
about me
he doesn’t want
to hurt her
so he hurts me
with that same
silence, which,
to him
seems like a favor
instead of a lie—
so she and me
are two pieces
of cake
before him
and he won’t
finish one
before he starts
on the other—
and I am just a mute
and unheroic
slice of vanilla
being consumed
and enjoyed
and reduced
to crumbs.


Painting by Thomas Benjamin Kennington, “Polishing the Brass” 1912