Awesome wedding readings for bad-ass couples
I’ve started my search for some offbeat readings for my wedding in October… have you compiled a list anywhere of readings from modern literature, songs, etc that are a little edgier and more current than the traditional? -Buster
This is one of those questions where I bow down to the all-mighty altar of Indiebride.com. If you’re looking for readings that have a few less thou shalts than your typical wedding material, you must check out Indiebride.com. See, the members of Indiebride’s forum have built an amazing 16-page repository of awesome readings!
Here are a few of my very favorites, which include references to science-fiction vampires, insomnia, and red right ankles.
Understand, I’ll slip quietly
Away from the noisy crowd
When I see the pale
Stars rising, blooming over the oaks.
I’ll pursue solitary pathways
Through the pale twilit meadows,
With only this one dream:
You come too.
From “First Poems,” Rainer Maria Rilke
Our union is like this:
You feel cold so I reach for a blanket to cover
our shivering feet.A hunger comes into your body
so I run to my garden and start digging potatoes.You asked for a few words of comfort and guidance and
I quickly kneel by your side offering you
a whole book as a
gift.You ache with loneliness one night so much
you weep, and I sayhere is a rope, tie it around me,
Hafiz will be your
companion
for life.Our Union, by Hafiz From “Love Poems from God,” Daniel Ladinsky (ed), c2002
Red Right Ankle by the decemberists
this is the story of your red right ankle
and how it came to meet your leg
and how the muscle bone and sinews tangled
and how the skin was softly shaped
and how it whispered ‘oh, adhere to me
for we are bound by symmetry
and whatever differences our lives have been
we together make a limb’
this is the story of your red right ankle
To Love is Not to Possess
James Kavanaugh
To love is not to possess,
To own or imprison,
Nor to lose one’s self in another.
Love is to join and separate,
To walk alone and together,
To find a laughing freedom
That lonely isolation does not permit.
It is finally to be able
To be who we really are
No longer clinging in childish dependency
Nor docilely living separate lives in silence,
It is to be perfectly one’s self
And perfectly joined in permanent commitment
To another–and to one’s inner self.
Love only endures when it moves like waves,
Receding and returning gently or passionately,
Or moving lovingly like the tide
In the moon’s own predictable harmony,
Because finally, despite a child’s scars
Or an adult’s deepest wounds,
They are openly free to be
Who they really are–and always secretly were,
In the very core of their being
Where true and lasting love can alone abide.
The Invitation, by Oriah Mountain Dreamer
It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living.I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your hearts longing.
It doesn’t interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking a fool for love,
for your dreams, for the adventure of being alive.It doesn’t interest me what planets are square in your moon.
I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow,
if you have been opened by life’s betrayals or have become shriveled and closed down from fear of further pain.I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving, to hide it, fade it, or fix it.
I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own; if you can dance with wildness and let ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, be realistic, or to remember the limitations of being human.
It doesn’t interest me if the story you are telling me is true.
I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true yourself;
if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul. I want to know if you can be faithful and therefore trustworthy.I want to know if you can see beauty even when it is not pretty every day, and if you can source your life on the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the moon in God’s presence.
It doesn’t interest me to know where you live or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up after a night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and do what needs to be done for the children.
It doesn’t interest me who you know, or how you came here.
I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back.
It doesn’t interest me where or what or with whom you have studied.
I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away.
I want to know if you can be alone with yourself, and if you truly like the company you keep in empty moments.
Adrienne Rich, 21 Love Poems
Whenever in this city, screens flicker
with pornography, with science-fiction vampires,
victimized hirelings bending to the lash,
we also have to walk…if simply as we walk
through the rainsoaked garbage, the tabloid cruelties
of our own neighborhoods.
We need to grasp our lives inseparable
from those rancid dreams, that blurt of metal, those disgraces,
and the red begonia perilously flashing
from a tenement sill six stories high,
or the long-legged young girls playing ball
in the junior highschool playground.
No one has imagined us. We want to live like trees,
sycamores blazing through the sulfuric air,
dappled with scars, still exuberantly budding,
our animal passion rooted in the city.
When I am with you, we stay up all night.
When you’re not here, I can’t go to sleep.Praise God for these two insomnias!
And the difference between them.The minute I heard my first love story
I started looking for you, not knowing
how blind that was.Lovers don’t finally meet somewhere.
They’re in each other all along.We are the mirror as well as the face in it.
We are tasting the taste this minute
of eternity. We are pain
and what cures pain, both. We are
the sweet cold water and the jar that pours.I want to hold you close like a lute, so we can cry out with loving.
You would rather throw stones at a mirror?
I am your mirror, and here are the stones.–The Essential Rumi, translated by Coleman Barks
Love by Roy Croft
I love you
Not only for what you are,
But for what I am
When I am with you.
I love you,
Not only for what
You have made of yourself,
But for what
You are making of me.
I love you
For the part of me
That you bring out;
I love you
For putting your hand
Into my heaped-up heart
And passing over
All the foolish, weak things
That you can’t help
Dimly seeing there,
And for drawing out
Into the light
All the beautiful belongings
That no one else had looked
Quite far enough to find
I love you because you
Are helping me to make
Of the lumber of my life
Not a tavern
But a temple.
Out of the works
Of my every day
Not a reproach
But a song.
I love you
Because you have done
More than any creed
Could have done
To make me good.
And more than any fate
Could have done
To make me happy.
You have done it
Without a touch,
Without a word,
Without a sign.
You have done it
By being yourself.
From The Irrational Season
By Madeleine L’EngleBut ultimately there comes a moment when a decision must be made. Ultimately two people who love each other must ask themselves how much they hope for as their love grows and deepens, and how much risk they are willing to take. It is indeed a fearful gamble. Because it is the nature of love to create, a marriage itself is something which has to be created, so that, together we become a new creature.
To marry is the biggest risk in human relations that a person can take.If we commit ourselves to one person for life this is not, as many people think, a rejection of freedom; rather it demands the courage to move into all the risks of freedom, and the risk of love which is permanent; into that love which is not possession, but participation. It takes a lifetime to learn another person. When love is not possession, but participation, then it is part of that co-creation which is our human calling, and which implies such risk that it is often rejected.
‘The Book of Love’ by Stephen Merritt (The Magnetic Fields)
From the album 69 Love Songs
The book of love is long and boring
No one can lift the damn thing
It’s full of charts and facts and figures
and instructions for dancingBut I, I love it when you read to me
And you, you can read me anythingThe book of love has music in it
In fact that’s where music comes from
Some of it is just transcendental
Some of it is just really dumbBut I, I love it when you sing to me
And you you can sing me anythingThe book of love is long and boring
And written very long ago
It’s full of flowers and heart-shaped boxes
And things we’re all too young to knowBut I, I love it when you give me things
And you, you ought to give me wedding ringsI, I love it when you give me things
And you, you ought to give me wedding rings
…and that’s just the tip of the iceberg! There are so many more over on Indiebride.com. Also, I’d love to invite my readers to share their favorite modern, non-”thou shalt” readings in the comments …
Comments
31 responses to this entrykate
July 2nd, 2008 · 6:04 AM · #there are loads on http://weddingwords.vox.com if you want to search by themed tags
Fae
July 2nd, 2008 · 6:18 AM · #My two favorite bands in this post?! Ariel, you just made the OBB even more awesome.
The Magnetic Fields have another great song along the same lines -
It’s Only Time
Why would I stop loving you
a hundred years from now?
It’s only time.
It’s only time.
What could stop this beating heart
once it’s made a vow?
It’s only time.
It’s only time.
If rain won’t change your mind,
let it fall.
The rain won’t change my heart
at all.
Lock this chain
around my hand,
throw away the key.
It’s only time.
It’s only time.
Years falling
like grains of sand
mean nothing to me.
It’s only time.
It’s only time.
If snow won’t change your mind
let it fall.
The snow won’t change my heart,
not at all.
(I’ll walk your lands)
I’ll walk your lands
(And swim your sea)
And swim your sea
Marry me.
Marry me.
(Then in your hands)
Then in your hands
(I will be free)
I will be free
Marry me.
Marry me.
Why would I stop loving you
a hundred years from now?
Jennifer
July 2nd, 2008 · 6:47 AM · #Can I add one that we’re using? Feel free to take it off the comments if this is the wrong place to post, but we found it hard to find a lovely reading that relates to offbeat mountain bikers!
Feel free to use: A Marriage Made for Two
A successful marriage can learn a lot from bicycle riding.
You should promise each other that you will not be fair weather riders, but venture out together in the wind and the rain. Only by braving the storms as a team will you reap the rewards when the sunshine arrives.
Look after each other. A well oiled bike will run smoothly and change gear easily.
Marriage is like a tandem…keep pedalling or the one at the front shouts at you!
You should promise each other to not only enjoy new adventures and explorations, but appreciate the same old routes you know and love.
Marriage is a promise to each other to endure the climbs so that you may chase the swoops and swerves of perfect singletrack.
The journey may be long and may have hills ahead, but if you climb together with love and passion, you will be able to achieve everything you both desire!
Wishing you all the best from the start line of the greatest endurance event of your lives. Good luck and may each lap be a great adventure.
Our friend is reading this for us. We actually wrote it ourselves, using some of the lovely comments guests had written with their RSVP’s.
jennifer chernoff
July 2nd, 2008 · 7:29 AM · #I still like Sonnet 136 by Willy Shakespeare. Also, there is a reverend who blogs and wrote something quite lovely recently about taking risks in terms of love and the lifespan of a relationship.
mordicai
July 2nd, 2008 · 8:00 AM · #Hey, look at me there in the blue tie getting married! Our reading was from “Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark” & was the “Green Ribbon.”
Jess
July 2nd, 2008 · 8:18 AM · #Excuse me, I just died from that Rilke poem. Rilke! He is some kind of Teutonic super-genius.
Jess L.
July 2nd, 2008 · 8:21 AM · #When we started looking for wedding readings I especially had a very hard time - I’d start going through the Neruda and Rilke poems and, though they were often lovely, my eyes just glazed over and I couldn’t foster any personal connection with any of them. But we finally found some GREAT things - here’s what we read when we got married a few weeks ago!
READING ONE:
From Colin’s grandmother, a Miss Manners lover, the following excerpt.
“While exclusionary interest in one other human being, which is what we call courtship, is all very exciting in the stages of discovery, there is not enough substance in it for a lifetime, no matter how fascinating the people or passionate the romance.
The world, on the other hand, is chock full of interesting and curious things. The point of the courtship — marriage — is to secure someone with whom you wish to go hand in hand through this source of entertainment, each making discoveries, and then sharing some and merely reporting others. Anyone who tries to compete with the entire world, demanding to be someone’s sole source of interest and attention, is asking to be classified as a bore. “Why don’t you ever want to talk to me?” will probably never start a satisfactory marital conversation. “Guess what?” will probably never fail.”
READING TWO:
My Dad - the only one who actually chose his own reading - read from Da Vinci’s notebooks some Notes on the Construction of Arches, interspersed with his own commentary on how this actually is all about marriage. (I don’t yet have a transcript of his words, alas, which were really the best part.)
“WHAT IS AN ARCH?
The arch is nothing else than a force originated by two weaknesses,
for the arch in buildings is composed of two segments of a circle, each of which being very weak in itself tends to fall; but as each opposes this tendency in the other, the two weaknesses combine to form one strength.
OF THE KIND OF PRESSURE IN ARCHES.
As the arch is a composite force it remains in equilibrium because
the thrust is equal from both sides; and if one of the segments
weighs more than the other the stability is lost, because the
greater pressure will outweigh the lesser.
ON THE STRENGTH OF THE ARCH.
The way to give stability to the arch is to fill the spandrils with
good masonry up to the level of its summit.”
READING THREE:
My dear friend Katie read a selection from the Massachusetts State Supreme Court ruling on Gay Marriage, and we briefly mentioned how awe-inspiring it was that in our very city, in only two days, EVERYONE was about to get the right to marry. The cheer our guests let up was a joy to hear.
“Civil marriage is at once a deeply personal commitment to another human being and a highly public celebration of the ideals of mutuality, companionship, intimacy, fidelity, and family. It is an association that promotes a way of life, not causes; a harmony in living, not political faiths; a bilateral loyalty, not commercial or social projects.
Because it fulfills yearnings for security, safe haven, and connection that express our common humanity, civil marriage is an esteemed institution and the decision whether and whom to marry is among life’s momentous acts of self-definition. Tangible as well as intangible benefits flow from marriage. The benefits accessible only by way of a marriage license are enormous, touching nearly every aspect of life and death.
It is undoubtedly for these concrete reasons, as well as for its intimately personal significance, that civil marriage has long been termed a civil right.”
READING FOUR:
Colin’s sister read an excerpt from “So Long, and Thanks for All the Fish,” included partially because the HHGttG being a crucially formative book for me when I was a child, and partially because it is awesome:
“They looked at each other for a moment.
The moment became a longer moment, and suddenly it was a very long moment, so long one could hardly tell where all the time was coming from.
For Arthur, who could usually contrive to feel self-conscious if left alone for long enough with a Swiss Cheese plant, the moment was one of sustained revelation. He felt on the sudden like a cramped and zoo-born animal who awakes one morning to find the door to his cage hanging quietly open and the savannah stretching grey and pink to the distant rising sun, while all around new sounds are waking.
He wondered what the new sounds were as he gazed at her openly wondering face and her eyes that smiled with a shared surprise.
He hadn’t realized that life speaks with a voice to you, a voice that brings you answers to the questions you continually ask of it, had never consciously detected it or recognized its tones till it now said something it had never said to him before, which was “Yes”.”
And those were our readings. =)
Ellie
July 2nd, 2008 · 8:48 AM · #My personal favorite love poem has always been Jim Daniels’s “You Bring Out the Boring White Guy in Me.”
Molly
July 2nd, 2008 · 10:31 AM · #Thanks, Ariel!
This is just what I needed. When I started looking for an offbeat-but-meaningful reading for our ceremony, I went to wikiquote and looked up “marriage.” Almost every one of the results were NEGATIVE! How frustrating.
Ok, I’m off to present the Madeleine L’Engal passage to dear fiance!
JessK
July 2nd, 2008 · 10:38 AM · #If you’re looking for something more secular that could cloak itself easily in a traditional ceremony, give Plato a once-over. My siblings-in-law used passages from Plato’s “Symposium.” It brought something different and unexpected to their otherwise traditional church wedding. It’s the only thing I remember about the ceremony…that counts for something, right?
b.rodrigus
July 2nd, 2008 · 10:39 AM · #I love that first one, I am going to have to hide it away for our rehearsal dinner.
Jennifer
July 2nd, 2008 · 11:33 AM · #I didn’t know that was L’Engle–I came across it as an option for opening words, so that is what we are using it for, although modified a little.
I also think that we’re going to use that Magnetic Fields song for either the processional or the signing.
Kelly
July 2nd, 2008 · 11:36 AM · #We used:
Reading # 1: Wedding Ritual (adapted from StarTrek: Celebrations by Maureen McTigue)
With fire and steel did the gods forge the man’s heart. So fiercely did it beat, so loud was the sound, that the gods cried out: “On this day we have brought forth the strongest heart in all the heavens. None can stand before it without trembling at its strength.” But then the man’s heart weakened, its steady rhythm faltered, and the gods said: “Why do you weaken so? We have made you the strongest in all of creation.” And the heart said…”I…am alone.” And the gods knew that they had erred. So they went back to their forge and brought forth another heart. But the second heart beat stronger than the first, and the first was jealous of its power. Fortunately, the second heart was tempered by wisdom.
“If we join together, no forces can stop us.” And when the two hearts began to beat together, they filled the heavens with a ferocious sound–and to this very day, no one can oppose the beating of these two hearts.
Reading #2: “A Picnic on the Earth” by Shuntaro Tanikawa
Let’s jump rope here, you and I. Right here!
Let’s have lunch here, you and I.
Here I will love you.
Your eyes will reflect the blue of the sky
And your back will be dyed the color of mugwort.
Let’s learn, you and I, the names of the constellations.
Here let us dream of things distant.
Here let’s gather shellfish.
Let’s pick a little starfish
From the sea of the dawning sky.
At breakfast let’s throw it back
And let the night recede.
Here I’ll go on saying “I’m home!”
While you keep saying, “Welcome back!”
I’ll come back here again and again.
Here let’s drink hot tea.
Let’s sit here, you and I, and be caressed for a while
By the cool breeze.
DQ
July 2nd, 2008 · 4:20 PM · #I have friends who used http://www.amazon.com/Oh-Place.....atbride-20” rel=”nofollow”>”The Places You’ll Go” by Dr Seuess
Beth Stephen
July 2nd, 2008 · 7:27 PM · #My favorite quote that I have had memorized forever:
To love very much is to love inadequately: We love- That is all. Love cannot be modified without being nullified. Love is a short word but it contains everything. Love means the body, the soul, the life, the entire being. We feel love as we feel the warmth of our blood, we breathe love as we breathe the air, we hold it in ourselves as we hold our thoughts. Nothing more exists for us. Love is not a word. It is a wordless state indicated by four letters.
Guy De Maupassant
Liz
July 2nd, 2008 · 10:57 PM · #Fantastic! I am madly taking notes as we speak. Now I just need to find more readers….
Moonspun
July 3rd, 2008 · 5:51 AM · #I just got married on June 21 and these are the two readings we used. Though I LOVE all the ones you posted.
The Journey
One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice –
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
“Mend my life!”
each voice cried.
But you didn’t stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do –
determined to save
the only life you could save.
~ Mary Oliver ~
It’s not as much about love, but in a second marriage, it was very appropriate!
Other one was:
Crusoe by George Bilgere
When you’ve been away from it long enough
You begin to forget the country
Of couples, with all its customs
And mysterious ways. Those two
Over there, for instance: late thirties,
Attractive and well-dressed, reading
At the table, drinking some complicated
Coffee drink. They haven’t spoken
Or even looked at each other in thirty minutes
But the big toe of her right foot, naked
In its sandal, sometimes grazes
The naked ankle bone of his left foot,
The faintest signal, a line thrown
Between two vessels as they cruise
Through this hour, this vacation, this life,
Through the thick novels they’re reading,
Her toe saying to his ankle,
Here’s to the whole improbable story
Of our meeting, of our life together
And the oceanic richness
Of our mingled narrative
With its complex past, with its hurts
And secret jokes, its dark closets
And delightful sexual quirks,
Its occasional doldrums, its vast
Future we have already peopled
With children. How safe we are
Compared to that man sitting across the room,
Marooned with his drink
And yellow notebook, trying to write
A way off his little island.
Becky
July 3rd, 2008 · 1:52 PM · #The reading I love that we will use somehow at our ceremony is this one:
Loving the wrong person
We’re all seeking that special person who is right for us, but if you’ve been through enough relationships, you begin to suspect there’s no right person, just different flavors of wrong. Why is this? Because you yourself are wrong in some way, and you seek out partners who are wrong in some complementary way. But it takes a lot of living to grow fully into your own wrongness. It isn’t until you finally run up against your deepest demons, your unsolvable problems – the ones that make you truly who you are – that you’re ready to find a life-long mate. You’re looking for the wrong person. But not just any wrong person: the right wrong person – someone you lovingly gaze upon and think, “This is the problem I want to have.” - Andrew Boyd, Daily Afflictions.
Michelle
July 3rd, 2008 · 2:19 PM · #I am planning on playing this song or reading the lyrics…
Dreaming my Dreams
The Cranberries
All the things you said to me today
Changed my perspective in every way
These things count to mean so much to me
Into my faith you
and your baby
It’s out there
If you want me
I’ll be here
It’s out there
I’ll be dreaming my dreams with you
And there’s no other place
that I’d lay down my face
I’ll be dreaming my dreams with you
It’s out there
If you want me, I’ll be here
I’ll be dreaming my dreams with you
And there’s no other place
that I’d lay down my face
I’ll be dreaming my dreams with you
M
July 4th, 2008 · 8:46 PM · #Other Lives and Dimensions and Finally a Love Poem, by Bill Hicok
My left hand will live longer than my right. The rivers
of my palms tell me so.
Never argue with rivers. Never expect your lives to finish
at the same time. I think
praying, I think clapping is how hands mourn. I think
staying up and waiting
for paintings to sigh is science. In another dimension this
is exactly what’s happening,
it’s what they write grants about: the chromodynamics
of mournful Whistlers,
the audible sorrow and beta decay of “Old Battersea Bridge.”
I like the idea of different
theres and elsewheres, an Idaho known for bluegrass,
a Bronx where people talk
like violets smell. Perhaps I am somewhere patient, somehow
kind, perhaps in the nook
of a cousin universe I’ve never defiled or betrayed
anyone. Here I have
two hands and they are vanishing, the hollow of your back
to rest my cheek against,
your voice and little else but my assiduous fear to cherish.
My hands are webbed
like the wind-torn work of a spider, like they squeezed
something in the womb
but couldn’t hang on. One of those other worlds
or a life I felt
passing through mine, or the ocean inside my mother’s belly
she had to scream out.
Here when I say “I never want to be without you,”
somewhere else I am saying
“I never want to be without you again.” And when I touch you
in each of the places we meet
in all of the lives we are, it’s with hands that are dying
and resurrected.
When I don’t touch you it’s a mistake in any life,
in each place and forever.
Sandy
July 7th, 2008 · 7:12 AM · #Whee!
Our first dance was ‘Book of Love’ by the Magnetic Fields!
Chase
July 12th, 2008 · 12:05 PM · #We used the Roy Croft one for our wedding last month. We did it as part of our vows, though, each of us reading a line of the poem to each other and then adding our self-written vows at the end. (We hated the idea of repeating after the minister.)
Everyone loved it. So did we. It was perfect for us.
princess lasertron
July 16th, 2008 · 9:04 PM · #We didn’t have this as a reading–I actually incorporated it into my vows–but it would make a REALLY nice reading. From the book “I like you” by Sandol Stoddard:
I like you
And I know why
I like you because
You are a good person
To like
I like you because
When I tell you something special
You know it’s special
And you remember it
A long long time
You say
Remember when you told me
Something special
And both of us remember
When I think something is important
You think it’s important too
When I say something funny
You laugh
I think I’m funny and
You think I’m funny too
I like you because
You know where I’m ticklish
And you don’t tickle me there
except
Just a little tiny bit
sometimes
But if you do then I know where to tickle you too
You know how to be silly
That’s why I like you
Boy are you ever silly
I never met anybody sillier than me
till I met you
I like you because
You know when it’s time to stop being silly
Maybe day after tomorrow
Maybe never
Oops too late
It’s quarter post silly
We fool around the same way all the time
Sometimes we don’t say a word
We snurkle under fences
We spy secret places
If I am a goofus on the roofus
Hollering my head off
You are one too
If I pretend I am drowning
You pretend you are saving me
If I am getting ready to pop a paper bag
Then you are getting to jump
That’s because
You really like me
You really like me
Don’t you
And I really like you back
And you like me back
And I like you back
And that’s the way we keep on going
Every day
If you go away
then I go away too
Or if I stay home
You send me a postcard
You don’t just say
Well see you around
Some time
Bye
I like you a lot
because of that
If I go away
I send you a postcard too
And I like you because
If we go away together
And if we are in Grand Central Station
And if I get lost
then you are the one that is yelling for me
Hey where are you
Here I am
And I like you because
When I am feeling sad
You don’t always cheer me up right away
Sometimes it is better to be sad
You can’t stand the others being so googly and gaggly
every single minute
You want to think about things
It takes time
I like you because if I am mad at you
Then you are mad at me too
It’s awful when the other person isn’t
They are so nice and hoo-hoo you could just about
punch them in the nose
I like you because if I think I am going to
throw up then you are really sorry
You don’t just pretend you are busy looking at
the birdies and all that
You say maybe it was something you ate
You say same thing happened to me one time
And the same thing did
If you find two four-leaf clovers
You give me one
If I find four
I give you two
If we only find three
We keep on looking
Sometimes we have good luck
And sometimes we don’t
If I break my arm and
If you bread your arm too
Then it is fun to have a broken arm
I tell you about mine
You tell me about yours
We are both sorry
We write our names and draw pictures
We show everybody and they wish they had a broken arm too
I like you because
I don’t know why but
Everything that happens
Is nicer with you
I can’t remember when I didn’t like you
It must have been lonesome then
I like you because because
I forget why I like you
But I do
So many reasons
On the Fourth of July I like you because
It’s the Fourth of July
On the Fifth of July
I like you too
If you and I had some drums
And some horns and some horses
If we had some hats and some
Flags and some fire-engines
We could be a HOLIDAY
We could be a CELEBRATION
We could be a WHOLE PARADE
See what I mean?
Even if it was the
nine-hundred-and-ninety-ninth of July
Even if it was August
Even if it was way down at the bottom of November
Even if it was no place particular in January
I would go on choosing you
And you would go on choosing me
Over and over again
That’s how it would happen every time
I don’t know why
I guess I don’t know why I like you really
Why do I like you
I guess I just like you
I guess I just like you
Because I like you
[sorry that was hella long]
Kirsty Ware
July 22nd, 2008 · 8:39 AM · #our wedding was themed to edward monkton’s lovely love story, and that was our reading.
The fierce Dinosaur was trapped inside his cage of ice. Although it was cold he was happy in there. It was, after all, HIS cage.
Then along came the Lovely Other Dinosaur.
The Lovely Other Dinosaur melted the Dinosaur’s cage with kind words and loving thoughts.
I like this Dionsaur, thought the Lovely Other Dinosaur. Although he is fierce he is also tender and he is funny. He is also quite clever though I will not tell him this for now.
I like this Lovely Other Dinosaur, thought the Dinosaur. She is beautiful and she is different and she smells so nice. She is also a free spirit which is a quality I much admire in a dinosaur.
But he can be so distant and so peculiar at times, thought the Lovely Other Dinosaur.
He is also overly fond of Things. Are all Dinosaurs so overly fond of Things?
But her mind skips from here to there so quickly, thought the Dinosaur. She is also uncommonly keen on Shopping. Are all Lovely Other Dinosaurs so uncommonly keen on shopping?
I will forgive his peculiarity and his concern for Things, thought the Lovely Other Dinosaur. For they are part of what makes him a richly charactered individual.
I will forgive her skipping mind and her fondness for shopping, thought the Dinosaur. For she fills our life with beautiful thought and wonderful surprises. Besides, I am not unkeen on shopping either.
Now the Dinosaur and the Lovely Other Dinosaur are old. Look at them.
Together they stand on the hill telling each other stories and feeling the warmth of the sun on their backs.
And that, my frends, is how it is with love. Let us all be Dinosaurs and Lovely Other Dinosaurs together.
For the sun is warm. And the world is a beautiful place.
kristin @ the fairmount bride
July 24th, 2008 · 1:00 PM · #thank you for posting these!
Charles
September 23rd, 2008 · 7:52 PM · #Thanks for posting this site. My son has asked me to speak at his wedding, and there are some great resources here . . . Nothing corny, just great poems and passages.
Stephanie
October 13th, 2008 · 4:26 AM · #With so many great ones, I thought to possibly add another.
BTW: LOVE (!) ‘I think I like you’ Sounds just like me rambling on. I’m so glad to be reminded why we’re having this wedding to begin with.
OK, here’s mine. It’s from the song ‘Love Rain Down On Me’ by Jill Scott featuring Mos Def. I took Mos Def’s part and changed part of it. Other than obvious he/she differences what I changed is in parentatheses.
Love rain down on me
X3
I stretch my arms towards the sky like blades of tall grass
A rhythm bounces between my shoulders like carnival jumps
I sat still in hopes it would help my wings grow
So then I’d really be fly
And then she arrived
Like daybreak inside a railway tunnel, like the new moon, like a diamond in the mines
Like high noon to a drunkard, sudden
She made my heart beat in a now-now time signature
Her skinny canvas were ultraviolet brush strokes
She was the suns painting; she was a deep cognac color
(Straight from the sniffer of God’s brandy)
Her (My) eyes sparkled like lights along the new city
(Only when reflected in your beauty ocean)
Her lips pursed as if her breath was too sweet and full for her mouth to hold
(My lips are pursed waiting for your sweet breath to fill my mouth)
I said, you are the beautiful distress of mathematics (that I never took the time to learn)
I said, for you I will peel open the clouds like new fruit
Give you lightning and thunder as (well as myself) a dowry
I will make the sky shit (pour) all of its stars like rain
And I will clasp the constellations across your waist (shoulders)
(To ease your load of the world)
(And when you return to me at night)
And I will make the heavens your (a) quilt
(Draped over the bed that we will share)
And they will be pleased to cover you (as they twinkle and shine)
They will be pleased to cover you (lover of mine)
(They will be pleased)
May I please, cover you
Please, (love you)
citrus
October 21st, 2008 · 6:49 PM · #don’t forget depeche mode.
I want somebody to share
Share the rest of my life
Share my innermost thoughts
Know my intimate details
Someone wholl stand by my side
And give me support
And in return
Shell get my support
She will listen to me
When I want to speak
About the world we live in
And life in general
Though my views may be wrong
They may even be perverted
Shell hear me out
And wont easily be converted
To my way of thinking
In fact shell often disagree
But at the end of it all
She will understand me
I want somebody who cares
For me passionately
With every thought and
With every breath
Someone wholl help me see things
In a different light
All the things I detest
I will almost like
I dont want to be tied
To anyones strings
Im carefully trying to steer clear of
Those things
But when Im asleep
I want somebody
Who will put their arms around me
And kiss me tenderly
Though things like this
Make me sick
In a case like this
Ill get away with it
Jessica
November 3rd, 2008 · 9:59 AM · #Anyone have any ideas about a reading for a wedding ceremony from an ancient greek or roman myth? Something from Ovid or someone else in that vein? Thanks!
erin kelly
November 8th, 2008 · 9:43 PM · #i just wanted to say i had “the invitation” hanging in my house for years and when it came time to choose something to read at my cousins wedding, nothing seemed more appropriate or supportive. now that i am getting married, i am a bit unsettled that i didnt hold onto this reading for myself! these are true words that will never disappoint…
Anne
November 15th, 2008 · 10:40 PM · #From Marge Piercy’s book, “The Art of Blessing the Day”
======================
The day I forget to write
the day I forget to feed the cats
the day I forget to love you
the day I forget your name
and then my own.
Until then I will not cease
this spinning pattern: part weave
of skeins of soft wool to keep
us warm, to clothe our too open
flesh, to decorate us –
and part dance, through woods
where roots trip me, a dance
through meadows of rabbit holes
and old ribs of plowing hidden
under thick grass.
Until then I will whirl
through my ragged days.
Like a spindle, like a dreydl
I will turn in the center
of my intricate weave
spelling your name in my dance
in my weaving, in my work,
your hidden name which
is simply, finally,
love.
===============
This poem is called “All lovers have secret names”