Thursday, July 4, 2013

I'M JEALOUS

The Betty Poems

of everything
and everyone
except myself;
and everything
and everyone
is jealous of me;
that is how it works
or doesn't.
We desire
every absence
in ourselves
as if
that would bring us nearer
to completion
only to find
a sponginess
and air pockets
in our souls.

I see an ugly man
walking with a hideous woman.
They seem to be
at peace
although I know
their peace
is only temporary.
And their fights
would bring us
to our knees
as it does them.
It makes me think
of my girl,
up in Toronto, safe
from my mania
and keeps me safe
from hers. Yet,
I miss her terribly.
Her touch,
her look,
her smell,
even of combat--
perhaps especially
of combat--
has me longing
for the ring
of combat
under the white hot lights
of conflict
where the mind
and hearts of men
were meant to exist.
She has brought me
that love
again.
It is within that
that love exists
where love retreats
into the madness
we were born with
and that few
remain attached to.

Suddenly,
that couple
of human beasts
became beautiful
and the stars came out
and aligned.
But I'm still jealous
even after
such silly profundities
like the writing
of this poem.

Norman Savage
Greenwich Village, 2013

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