A few years ago, as a newly single person, I decided (perhaps foolishly) to write poems to the people I met through online dating. I sent each person a poem I'd written for them. Some thought it was amusing, while others thought it was just a bit odd. Later, I decided to write about my experiences as life writing, a sort of personal essay slash micro-memoir piece. It was an enjoyable experience, and a great way to combine my forays into sexual connection with my skill for observation, imagination and writing. Intrigued? Below is an adapted excerpt from the published version, ‘Swipe Right Poetry’ in my book There is Fire Here. Afterwards, why not try some of my tips and suggestions for writing to a lover yourself?

Nick described himself as a ‘tallee’. In his online photo, he had dark hair, dark eyes, a little bit of beard. He super-liked me, which looks like a happy blue star shooting off at the bottom of his picture. He was my first super-like and he was only two kilometres away, so I swiped right. I’d only been on the dating app a few days, so I didn’t realise the prompt after I swiped right—that he only read in emoji—was generated by the app, not something he’d written. I sent him three emojis: rain, a coffee mug, and a book. His response was quick: a laugh, a guess that it was raining, and that I was reading in a coffee shop.

We agreed to meet at an outdoor café near my flat. He was seated when I first saw him, so it didn’t register just how tall he was until he stood to greet me. Six-foot-four is much taller than my five-foot-two. But we sat and chatted. He was even cuter in person, kind, surprisingly smart. He carried the conversation, talking about his work at a print shop and how he wanted to go to America someday. We exchanged swear words in British and American, words for undergarments and body parts. What I wrote to Nick was more of a prose-poem, a few lines about how surprised I was that he’d used the word ‘penultimate’ twice.

A few months later, I met Guillaume, a blue-eyed Parisian. He knew little English. I knew little French. We walked through his city, mostly in silence. I was sharing my hotel room with a friend, so Guillaume and I had to be creative. Most of the gardens in Paris are surrounded by walls and gates, but we found a way into one. Here are a few lines from ‘To the Garden, at Night’, an attempt at a poem I sent Guillaume after I got home from Paris:

Cafés clear of tables, streets 

built to outlast revolution are lit

by a night where lovers walk.

Montparnasse and the old palace,

pitted wood of Pont des Artes remembers

the weight of recent past, the Seine

carries limbs twisting in the ironwork below.

A few months later, I met a guy named Per in Sweden. Another tall dude. Per’s English was excellent, like most Swedes. He said ‘Hey’ in greeting, which I love. It’s actually hej, but, to an American, it sounds more like a hello from a long-lost friend.

Within an hour, Per started saying things that signalled to me he was a serious contender. He noticed little things about me, how I spoke in metaphors and used loads of description. As we were figuring out what to do after the café, I slipped and said something about going to my hotel room. We both laughed and decided to sit on a park bench for a little while instead, where he kissed me. Perhaps one of the very best kisses I’d ever had in my life. Here’s the last stanza of ‘Sweden for a Beginner’:

III. Utgång 

A table of strangers teach me vändtia

as the tether unwinds, salted broadleaf hazel

giving way to fir and mountain, black knight, red ten.

Take pictures, you say, and the border

strains beneath the metal wheels, my fingers

smelling you, the window-sky passing.

You are my last one-night, I say, how you

turn so slight when I tell you love

is the only way. That word, oh, that word.

Writing prompts

Now it’s your turn! The great thing about writing is that it doesn’t have to be serious. It can be fun. Here are a few ideas to play with:

• Perhaps you and your lover are from different countries or regions, and you use different words and phrases, like the lovers I wrote about. It was fun (and easy!) to use specific words as a starting point for my poems. Try it yourself! 
  Variation #1: make a list of concrete nouns (persons/places/things) that remind you of a lover. Write them as a ‘list poem’: write the list first, then title it something entirely unexpected, like ‘grocery list’ or ‘parts list’.
  Variation #2: write a ‘to do’ list instructing a lover how to prepare for your next encounter, and add the title last, something unexpected like a location or random phrase. 
• Start with a familiar rhyme like ‘Roses are red,’ then, instead of following with the traditional second line of ‘Violets are blue,’ write something silly like, ‘I wish you were in my bed,’ and carry on. 
• Write a love letter. You can hand write it and hand deliver it or send it through the post, or send it line-by-line through an app like WhatsApp. Maybe they’ll join in and respond with a love letter to you. 
  Variation: write a love letter in emojis or photos or GIFs.

See more of our Valentine's content in our OpenLearn Valentine's collection.