Day 40: Fireworks

Can hate be a sign of love? Of course.  

The term 'sparks flying' refers to attraction of course, but maybe these sparks sometimes disguise themselves as anger. Like in this poem from Amy Lowell, where the two people featured can't seem to stand each other -  but, everyone knows indifference is the opposite of love, while hate is its defensive flip side.

This seems like a pretty accurate description of concealed sparks of passion rather than anger to me: 'But whenever I see you, I burst apart/And scatter the sky with my blazing heart. /In spits and sparkles in stars and balls,/Buds into roses— and flares, and falls.'

I just love the description of fireworks in this poem! Both the literal and emotional ones. Explosive indeed and mesmerisingly beautiful. The closest thing to seeing a real fireworks display!

Fireworks - Amy Lowell

You hate me and I hate you,

And we are so polite, we two!

But whenever I see you, I burst apart

And scatter the sky with my blazing heart.

In spits and sparkles in stars and balls,

Buds into roses— and flares, and falls.

Scarlet buttons, and pale green disks,

Silver spirals and asterisks,

Shoot and tremble in a mist

Peppered with mauve and amethyst.

I shine in the window and light up the trees,

And all because I hate you, if you please.

And when you meet me, you rend asunder

And go up in a flaming wonder

Of saffron cubes, and crimson moons,

And wheels all amaranths and maroons.

Golden lozenges and spades,

Arrows of malachites and jades,

Patens of copper, azure sheaves.

As you mount, you flash in the glossy leaves.

Such fireworks as we make, we two!

Because you hate me and I hate you.