People often ask me, “Hey mister, what is love?” Why they ask me I have no idea, but being a man of philosophical inquiry, a man interested in what great minds before mine pondered while they searched the davenport for loose change to settle up with the doxy, I set to musing on this vexing conundrum.
As often happens when the old noodle is aboil, I settle as a starting point what is perhaps the greatest definition from times past of that which I’m trying to unravel. I then add the seasonings of other great thinkers until I have arrived at the essence al dente, the pure pasta, as it were, of the issue in question.
Thus, in reductionist prose poem form (where broadcast rights do not prohibit) the answer to the eternal question…
What Is Love?
IF
“Love is the beauty of the soul.”1
AND IF
“Dance is the hidden language of the soul of the body.”2
AND WE KNOW
“Language is the source of misunderstandings.”3
AND
“The world only goes round by misunderstanding.”4
PLUS
“We’re goin’ round and round and we’re never gonna’ stop.”5
THEN
“’Tis love that makes the world go round, my baby.”6
THEREFORE
“Love is an angular momentum formed out of a nebula that collapsed.”7
Why, just the other day I said to my sweetie, “My angular momentum formed out of a nebula that collapsed for you knows no bounds, honey-bun.” She moued appreciatively.
So spread the love, everyone. Keep spinning and spreading love.
- Saint Augustine
- Martha Graham
- Antoine Saint-Exupéry
- Charles Baudelaire
- Selena Gomez
- Charles Dickens
- Me