She Loves Me, She Loves Me Not
What I Heard A Green-Leafed Tree, Where A Woman Hanged Herself, Say One Night
Let Me Put The Crown Back On Your Head
Now,
you’re the reason
I’m not ending it.
Even though you don’t know me,
I’ve started the pilgrimage towards you.
Towards your
wounded beauty,
drowned in booze,
towards your wild dancing
in the temple,
towards your flashes of light,
your thunder,
and the tears on your cheeks
at night -
I can see them
dripping down
from your poems,
and touch the softness you
tried to throw away
and hide behind the hardness
of your face.
I can see the child, still,
behind the ruthless ambition,
the only way
not to fall into the hole
of not being seen:
the war of the child
to be loved,
adorned now
with the woman’s body
that grew out of the darkness
to become your weapon.
And I have come to feel
the edge of that weapon.
I have come, tonight, for your magic
and your loneliness,
to disappear for a moment
beneath your
goddess- vulture
wings.
I have come
and I am coming
from the desert
where you and I were born.
I have come
and am coming,
the poorest of your suitors,
with no wealth,
with nothing but a knowledge
of the emptiness,
which is a knowledge
of you.
I have come to be saved,
for just one moment of love
with no other expectation,
for just one moment
worshipping at the holy site
of you.
And I have come to save you,
to return you to the center of the Universe
when I break down
in your arms,
crying because of you,
overwhelmed and drowned by you;
my ecstasy and my helplessness
are coming
to restore you to your
pedestal.
Two worlds
fitting together perfectly
for a moment.
I need nothing more,
and you will be able
to find many others
like me.
I am coming to you,
though you don’t know me yet.
I am coming to you,
I am coming to you,
I am coming…
It’s been a long time
since I’ve been touched.
A long time.
I don’t need it to be real, anymore.
Fake is fine.
Just fine.
A part of the assembly line.
A feather in your cap.
Your getaway car for a night.
Just a body
without a head.
It can be all about you,
(bury me
between your thighs
then say
good-bye),
or something you can buy.
The ghost
still has a few coins
to buy his way into the
theater
where his body
is the star.
Yes, think of
something you can buy
and look past
the
dying corpse
that still wants
to be alive,
I’ll be your new pair of jeans
or dress,
just play the role,
touch me,
some people
even pet
lizards,
hold snakes,
touch me,
hold me
just a minute,
lie to me,
lie to me,
like the doctor
who says "You’re going to make it"
in spite of the giant
pool of blood,
think of someone you once loved
and let me
feed on the crumbs.
Let me disappear into
the echoes of caresses,
yours and mine.
Touch me,
touch me,
it’s been so long,
it’s been so long,
my body’s falling to pieces
like a house not lived in
for years,
swept away by the wind,
broken
by the weight of memories
in its walls,
brittle with the loss
of things
that were everything.
Touch me:
this ancient,
crumbling house
that was once
filled with singing,
this empty shell
of life lying,
still longing,
in the desert.
Touch me
and pretend,
for you
and me.
Touch me,
let’s
close our eyes
and dream.
Let’s leave reality
behind,
it was never real,
anyway,
our joys never came
from it.
Let’s touch.
Let’s dream.
Let’s touch.
Let’s pretend.
Just tonight.
Please.
Just tonight.
Wanting you
was a fire
that could not last
forever.
It could burn
infinity,
it could use up
all the fuel
of a
poet’s eye
and a martyr’s heart.
For years
you danced
with your flame body
over the log
of my patient soul,
my boundless longing,
you were all around me
like a cloud
of light.
I saw nothing,
felt nothing
that was not you,
all my pain
became the pain
of waiting
for you
and I had no hope
but you.
But the fire
could not last.
Like the brightest star,
whose immolation is
too passionately ferocious,
gives way
first
to the night,
gives the black back
to itself
before
the softer, more cautious
star
that thinks too much of itself
and
leaves love’s fierce decree
of death
to the side,
so I was ignited by you
into oblivion.
And then the letters stopped;
and only poems were left behind,
like ashes,
staining the beautiful white
canvas
of the life
I had
before
I met you;
the beautiful white
canvas
on which
nothing else
can ever be painted.
Your half-life
is one thousand years.
For that long
no one else
will be able to live here.
The radiation
of having you
and then not having you
has turned my heart into a
wasteland.
The one who is far
is gentle as a breeze,
the one who is near
is like a stormy sea.
The one who is far
is like a ray of light,
the one who is near
is like the mystery of the night.
The one who is far
shines on me like a sun,
the one who is near
makes both the demons and the angels run.
Near and far:
they fill my dreams;
and I, in perfect balance
live between them,
and without them -
in a kind of dance
that seems to be still -
like an egret, silent,
standing in the lake.
I am a captive
of near and far,
crushed between them,
alone between them,
loving both,
which dooms me to be
without either one:
without the storm or
sun; trapped
in a place
where two is none.
Don’t ask me to
wait so long.
The mighty Crusaders
were beaten by water.
For all their great war horses -
thunder and muscle,
burning eyes and sweat of battle -
for all their ferocious lances
and terrible swords,
a drink of water
was all they needed
and all they did not have,
for a drink of water
they fell
crying, beaten in the desert.
No, my love,
I cannot go on
without you,
not for another day.
Without the drink
of you
I’ll die,
I’ll die the death
of going to another.
I’ll give up
the dream of your unequaled
eyes,
it will be over,
in the desert
of this waiting.
For a drink - one drink -
of you.
She Loves Me, She Loves Me Not
She loves me
She loves me not
She loves me
She loves me not
She loves me
She loves me not
And one day
the flower
was gone.
I’m going to die
or become enlightened.
I don’t think there’s any other choice.
This pain is too great to bear,
it’s driving me
to the grave
or to the light.
I’m falling
falling,
what’s there?
I can’t take any more,
I’m falling,
what’s there,
who’s there,
who am I,
is there an I?
Whose pain is this
and what’s behind it,
the place I seek
or the place I’m running from?
I’m falling,
I’m falling,
I tried so hard
to hold onto you
but you weren’t there,
you went
to plan
our meeting,
you went to decorate
the future
with the love
that was growing
between us,
but the room
will remain empty
now,
I’m falling.
Where were you?
I’m falling.
Is anyone meant
to find his own way,
is anyone
really able
to stand on his own?
I’m falling
falling,
soon I’ll be dead
or I’ll be an angel
you were the middle ground
but then you went
and I’m falling
falling,
I wanted you so much,
but I’m falling
falling
falling
falling
without you
falling…
Falling to myself?
Falling to nothing?
Falling to what I always
wanted?
It doesn’t matter -
to some place without you,
falling…
The me in your mind
isn't me.
The rain doesn't fall
on the me in your mind,
you keep him
warm and dry.
The snow doesn't freeze
the me in your mind,
you have a fireplace that's always
burning for him.
The loneliness doesn't hurt
the me in your mind,
you're always right there with him,
telling him
how much you love him.
The me in your mind
isn't me.
I'm outside of your mind,
wet and cold,
wearing all the night.
The me in your mind
isn't me.
He's like a pet dog,
you keep him at the foot of your bed
while a man lies
dying in the street outside.
The me in your mind
isn't me.
In fact,
he's the one
who's kept you from me,
my worst enemy.
The me in your mind
isn't me.
I went down from friendly fire.
From you.
You said you thought
you loved me
but that was as far
as it got.
The love you sent
into the universe for me
fell short,
it landed
right on my head.
And now,
my love for you
is just a white cross in the sand.
Waiting until the end of time.
You didn’t come -
but even so -
"Here lies your man."
I went down from friendly fire.
From you.
You said things
that made me dream,
and in this gray world,
dreams kill, when
they don’t come true.
Your love awakened dreams
it could not
answer,
it revealed
emptiness
it could not fill.
And my love for you
is just a white cross in the sand.
Waiting until the end of time.
You didn’t come -
but even so -
"Here lies your man."
I went down from friendly fire.
From you.
You were going to change things,
you were going to bring laughter back,
to bring the sun,
to end the cold,
to make lost things blossom,
to rekindle the flame
of a great and wounded heart.
But your light
turned out to be only the
final ally
of the dark.
I raised my head
towards hope
and crawled out of the
trench
of tearful endurance -
where your
unkept promises
found their mark.
And my love for you
is just a white cross in the sand.
Waiting until the end of time.
You didn’t come -
but even so -
"Here lies your man."
I am angry
because you didn’t give me
what I wanted.
Yes, I am angry
because you didn’t give me
what I wanted.
But there is a whole universe of you
that doesn’t have anything
to do with me;
and it came first.
It has first claim
on your soul
and I could only
matter more than it
by invading
who you are
with the dark army of my fear.
But I don’t want
a broken you,
I don’t want a shadow you,
I don’t want me,
all over again,
in the form of you.
I’m tired of me,
I want someone new
and difficult,
like climbing a mountain.
I want you.
I want a labyrinth
to wander in
forever,
a great complex space
behind a "yes"
where I can get lost.
It’s time I got lost.
I’ve known everything for
too long.
I want a
person
who’s a voyage.
I want you.
You didn’t give
me what I wanted,
but you came before me
and my
demeaning needs.
Make me rise,
don’t bend down towards me.
Make me rise.
What you can give me
will be enough.
What I wanted
would not have changed a thing,
it would have left me with no one but myself,
disguised as you and me.
You came before me.
Make me rise.
Let me travel in your universe,
don’t let me take it from you,
don’t let me turn you
into familiar ground.
Just let me travel through your universe,
towards a kiss,
or a no,
you will know,
you will know what to do,
and that is what I want.
I want you.
With me or without me.
The comet
went by.
Why wouldn't you stay
and be
a star
in my empty night?
I'm a comet.
Your love
can't change that.
When you love a comet
as though it
were a star,
you lose love,
it just becomes pain.
When you hate
something
because it is itself
you demean yourself
with injustice.
No, I won't be cruel,
I won't blame you
for not staying.
You had somewhere to go
and it wasn't me.
She was beautiful
and she made one page
of my life beautiful.
Now I must go back
to the book
of the night and me.
If I were a comet, too,
I wouldn't be alone.
But I wasn't.
And she was.
When I looked at you
it was the Stendhal Effect.
I couldn’t stop crying
to see such beauty right in front of me.
To hear your voice
saying my name.
My name,
which brought you
crashing over me
in overwhelming waves.
It was like flying into Heaven
after a pointless brutal death,
like being welcomed by angels
into a world of light,
after spending lifetimes in the mud,
it was like finding
everything beautiful lost
along the way,
like having the world
played back
without the cuts
and lies,
without the terrible emptiness
that made me cry
when I saw you.
Before you,
there was nothing,
nothing left before my eyes,
only this sea of
disappointment and loss
frozen deep inside:
but when I saw you,
it was as if you had returned
the world.
And the tidal wave
of lost things
came alive,
and burst out
at your feet
as a poem
and a man.
What word can explain you?
Perfection?
No! You are so imperfect -
yet with perfect flaws.
You did not
stoop to anything
so low
as invulnerability,
but fell
wounded
by my side.
You brought the tears of what
the universe always wanted
crying down on desert ground.
In your presence
I let go
of everything
that got
in the way of life,
until even my pain
was beautiful.
I died and was
born again
looking at you.
Just looking at you.
"No"
fell on me
like a thousand pounds.
"No"
hit me
like a rolled-up newspaper
hits a fly,
all my dreams
were splattered
without a chance
and suddenly
I felt
like a naked fool
standing in the snow
with all the world watching,
and no one coming out to help.
And the train of you
just went on,
I wasn’t even a station
on your line.
And the world
laughed at me
in my mind,
but it was just
the wings of my angels
flying away
from me.
"What a fool!
Let’s leave him,
let’s be the angels
of a dog."
Even angels flee
from such stupidity.
God’s love
stopped
where yours did.
Your "no" -
your "no" -
it changed me forever.
Somehow
it got deep inside of me;
and I never asked
again,
everyone became you,
and the rest of my life
was spent
avoiding "no"
by never asking.
I died alone.
But no one
ever told me
"No" again.
No one.
No one…
It wasn’t just a no.
It was a no
to the tenth power,
a no with ten zeroes,
the kind of no
an astronomer would use.
"I get the point.
I won’t ask again."
It was that kind
of no.
Neither you
nor I
are living in the
sea.
This seems to be
the best match
in the fishbowl.
Don’t worry,
you’re the one for me -
unless
someday,
somehow,
I manage to make it
back
into
the sea.
Infatuation
is my normal state,
I can’t help myself.
I can’t hold
the liquor of another
human being.
And now it’s you.
And now it’s you.
Sometimes
you’re so mean.
I swear
I’ll keep my heart door
shut forever.
But then
you come knocking
on the door
with that smile
that brings
amnesia and light.
When you rise up from the night,
who remembers the darkness?;
and I just have to open up
again.
It’s hard to say no
to the sun.
Creaking ceiling.
It’s you, on the floor above,
getting ready to go to work.
It’s like being
awakened
by a songbird
at dawn:
when the black
has just begun to
turn to gray,
because the sun is
coming.
I think of you
putting on your make-up,
trying on your clothes,
trying to make it in
this world.
And a strange sweet love
comes into my heart;
and I become
a prayer for you.
What I Heard A Green-Leafed Tree, Where A Woman Hanged Herself, Say One Night
I gave you
this beauty.
Why did you
hang yourself
from me?
Let Me Put The Crown Back On Your Head
Let me put
the crown back
on your head,
it's too heavy for you
to lift,
but you won't believe
how light it is
for you to wear.
Once it's on your head.
Let me put
the crown back
on your head.
Let me give you back
your kingdom
with my eyes,
let me be the secret mirror
that reflects
what's underneath
the mask of invisibility
they put on you,
the day they
were about to be
eclipsed.
Hold me up
to your
wounded face,
I'll show you
how beautiful it is
with my bewitched gaze,
loyal as a sunflower
to the sun.
Let me put
the crown back
on your head,
by loving you.
Let me open up your door
to yourself
by being the first
to surrender a whole country
to your soul,
I'll sail
away from all my plans
across the sea of loving helplessly,
with all the power
of being powerless,
I want
to be the first
to plant your flag
on the unknown continent
of you.
Let me put
the crown back
on your head.
I want to see
it shining
above your love-starved hair.
I want your halo
to belong to the world,
and the world to belong
to you, I want you on your throne,
not them,
not the impostors
who set dogs
on children,
I want you
to be the queen,
I want this to be your reign,
your land,
and your time.
Warlords roam
where crowns don't shine,
swords have all the power
where there is no
glow,
impostors are believed.
Let me put
the crown back
on your head.
Let the world know
you are more
than a flower that died
under the ground,
more than the roar of night
that was supposed to be day,
you are the ruler here,
ruler of your own shining heart
and the land
of those
who love the light,
those who have been waiting for you
in the darkness
of your not shining.
Let me put
the crown
back on your head.
By loving you.
By loving you.
Crisis of confidence.
That's all it is.
Nothing more,
nothing less.
The ocean doubting itself.
High tide is over,
it looks like I'll just
pull back
from the land
I was supposed to cover
until I disappear into myself forever.
Or maybe I'll be
evaporated.
The shining sun will work
against me.
There'll be nothing left but a giant
sun-baked pit
where I used to be
and they'll be able to walk
from one continent
to the other
without ever stopping for my magnificence,
without ever knowing what a wave is,
or waiting: the beauty of not
getting some place
because of something
more beautiful.
My surf,
my spray, my power,
my name which the shore cries out
like a lover overwhelmed,
my innocent pretence of infinity,
my unpredictable, deep miles
that make what I am between
seem precious,
my journey
which raises men,
it will all be gone,
you'll be without me,
and I'll be without you.
I just can't do it anymore,
the shore is falling away from me,
this time I might not be back,
I might not make it.
Tomorrow
will I still be the sea?
Without you,
will there still be a me?
Crisis of confidence.
That's all it is.
Nothing more,
nothing less.
The ocean
doubting itself.
Whirr-i-up
whirr-i-up
whirr-i-up
just checking
i’m still here
songbird part
is still here
noise means
i am
My noise
I like it
so much better
than pavement being
ripped up
or someone
telling me
where to go
or what to do
whirr-i-up
whirr-i-up
whirr-i-up
just because
the sun came up
and i want
to be with it
though i’m down here
but
singing
is a way
of flying
whirr-i-up
whirr-i-up
whirr-i-up
and i can
meet the sun
halfway
even
in my darkness
whirr-i-up
whirr-i-up
whirr-i-up
because i can’t
stand the sound
of helicopters
i can’t stand
the sound of my name
in other people’s
mouths
i can’t stand
lies
that screech
like train brakes
on the tracks
between my ears
whirr-i-up
whirr-i-up
whirr-i-up
flowers
open
with every note
of my song
Like the potter’s hands
wet with clay
my soul
takes this miserable world
in the hands
of its
inner music
and tries to start again
tries to start again
whirr-i-up
whirr-i-up
whirr-i-up
limping
has such a beautiful
sound
whirr-i-up
whirr-i-up
whirr-i-up
the sun
has found
a part of itself
in me
and it is rising
and it is shining
in my night
My wound is
singing
singing
just a little
enough to go on longing
Missing what could be
Limping
never walking like the blind
with unfaltering steps
Limping
like the most beautiful
melancholy note
coming out of
truth’s instrument
whirr-i-up
whirr-i-up
whirr-i-up
singing
on the edge
of another
day of sorrow
singing
singing
i don’t know why
whirr-i-up
whirr-i-up
whirr-i-up
no excuse
just singing.