the most beautiful girl in the world (a poem)
[from Misconfigurations of Love – poetry]
i once saw the most beautiful girl in the world
i stood beside her and talked to her
she was unafraid
i spent time with the most beautiful girl in the world
and i realized what got her there
was not something that was going to make me love her
she was centered and alert
but she was a bit too centered and alert
doors would be opened
corners would be cut
you could see in her style
that she was on guard
something was expected
the most beautiful girl in the world
actually became a bit boring after a while
she never paid for gas
she never offered her services
she wanted to be sure that no unspoken expectations would be met
i spent some time with the most beautiful girl in the world
and noticed she was not all that
her beauty was definitely more than skin deep
she was beauty through and through
and i was enamored
but i was not compelled to fall in love
there was a barrier that she enforced
she wanted something
love was not it
i saw the most beautiful girl in the world the other day
she was still beautiful
she was unaware of my presence
and in that moment I could see what was wrong
she was pained
she was hiding
she was alone
i left her there without disturbing her peace
the reverie i felt upon meeting her was spent
she did not want any further assistance
she did not need anything else
i left her in the aisle of the organic food store
looking like a beautiful and exotic bird
there are not many women with her dangerous looks
and haunting charm
and
something
missing
i felt a moment of desire for her
the most beautiful girl in the world
had to be clear
this was a business deal
there would be no exchange of affection
and she held me there at arm’s length
before the fantasy had a chance to emerge
she let it be known she was not interested
she would take my offer
she would offer nothing in return
for a moment, with the most beautiful girl in the world
that was enough
being next to her was refreshing
i would do anything to help her
for a moment, the most beautiful girl in the world was nearby
and she was within reach and within earshot
but i was told not to sing
i was given the rules
before a song was even imagined
it must be hard being the most beautiful girl in the world
of course the demands on her and desires of others are enormous
she had to defend herself
even before accepting my friendship
she had to kill the buzz
obviously it was my buzz she killed
she had learned how not to feel
she was suffering some deep inner pain
she was still beautiful, so beautiful
i could never understand that pain
she’s still around
from time to time i see her
still beautiful
still haunting and glowing in smiles and beauty
and something about her eyes
that takes me beyond myself
it must be hard
being so beautiful
in a world that feeds on beauty
that eats pretty young women
she must feel threatened
being so beautiful
is like being naked all the time
and there was no way for me to step close
without triggering the alarm
best not to even get started
with the most beautiful girl in the world
best not to even try
6-12-13
alight with desire
[from Misconfigurations of Love – poetry]
can you feel the wind blowing in your direction from me
does my smile come to mind from time to time
wishes and love poems cannot transform a light
i want a flame, a fire, a burning desire
and i’ll wait here awhile, stoking coals
and blowing kisses
6-12-13
these configurations of we
[from Misconfigurations of Love – poetry]
such oddly wonderful
these configurations of we
emailing poems
to ourselves
wrestling with a cat
to get out of the way
to say to Siri(tm)
that I love you still
but she can’t get it right
she’s missing the point
in bed by 10
my brain thinks i must’ve gone crazy
writing by the light
of the little luminescent screen
so as not to wake too fully
by the light
if i miss
it will come round again
surely
as i dream
in words
it’ll
come. back. around.
as recycled sadness
or drone strikes of self defeat
best to interrupt this beauty sleep
to scratch one out
to abandon thoughts of hope
prayer-songs of joy
this expression
will be found a hundred times
and lost just as many
plus one
until I have given in
and voiced the electrical language
the impulse back to me
and saying how much i miss you
again and
again
like a prayer
in a leaky boat of joy
___
full stop
___
that’s enough
for now
to return
to the sargasso sea of sleep
and more chemistry of dreams and online dating
and recalibrations
of my brain
this is not what insomnia looks like
this is joy
i promise
this
is
joy
back to sleepy-time tea
and this capture
like a camomile compress
to the mind
or some ungodly tonic
to the stream
that messes up my hair
with even more hope
more orchestrated chaos
even more
forms
for
words
aimed at love songs
or losing this sadness
and remembering the pain
that you had become
for me
this is an anniversary of sorts
this moment
this night
a triumph – i hope
it is too early to tell
june is hardly summer
you are hardly gone
i am barely breathing
and yet declaring independence
and dancing
and praying
and songs no longer meant for you
still about you
maybe
like a white whale
i’ve been chasing since my twenties
i can only write that now
in my 50th year
fully empowered
yet again
surrounded by cats
and new, healthier friends
and the old ones
who remained on my side
like the old tennis shoes
they are
we are not
they are not on your side
they have rallied around me
with some effort
and belief
in building on truth
and something that lasts
passing from easy
into difficult
and even unspeakable
see this here
(points at chest)
won’t be stopped
until the impulses stop
to connect
and connect
and connect
and connect
and connect
and
and i can get back to sleep
surrounded by cats of different colors
aroused by my light
and an awakened me
that might mean food
if they play their parts just right
a deep breath
and a letting go
letting you go
count backwards from 10
it will only hurt for a second
before you’re gone
i’m gone
and night returns to its rightful place
in constellations of time
as an ease
a rest
a peace
and not this
—this—
this
—this—
this
and not this
incessant scratching
5-6-13
love song for an ex
[from Misconfigurations of Love – poetry]
i didn’t expect you to fix my empty heart
knowing we had much to learn
but when I held you, saw you, opened up
a part of me began to burn
any time you want it hard enough
and you’re ready for the pain
any time you feel it deep enough
you open up – once again
i may have waited for a girl like you
to find a piece of broken dreams
imagining the morning hold with you
was enough but now it seems
any time you want it hard enough
and you’re ready for the pain
any time you feel it deep enough
you open up – once again
nothings wrong, I know your passing through
that’s not a tear beneath my eye
there’s nothing wrong now that nothings new
don’t even have to say goodbye
so move along now and be on your way
another good one’s passing by
i can’t see your face, can’t feel the pain
don’t need to know the reason why
1/13/13 to pmz
