Over burned spaghetti and red wine

God has made men suffer making me
As beautiful as morning by the sea
Because I’m only interested in maths
I have long since left the garden path

I never look in mirrors  or deep ponds
Narcissus eat your heart out in ferns’ fronds
I  never used to wonder how I looked
When my eyes were glued on a textbook

What irony that men would love me so
I   thought myopia  would  make them shy
I thought they’d like to talk  of Wittgenstein
Over burned spaghetti and  red wine

But now I’ve learned how beautiful I looked
Lying on the sofa with a book
Alas it is too late for any more
I see the edge of Heaven by the door

God  may seem ironic, it’s a test
I may kiss you once if you insist

Before we have the words

The childish jealousy, the painful heart
The remnants of a past that live within
Which make my  skin  feel pain, that make it smart

Measured feelings  appear   on  noone’s chart
We hide our knowledge of our own dark sin
The childish jealousy, the painful heart

It  comes too fast, takes too long to depart
Before we have the words, can thought  begin?
Unthought knowledge,wordless,  makes skin smart

Can action makes us better deal with thought?
What protection helps the smarting skin,
The childish jealousy, the painful heart?

Can virtue, unlike love, be sold and bought?
Turn the phones off. numb the brain-made din
Unwanted knowledge peeves the soul and heart

Like the dangerous wall that cut Berlin
We defend ourselves,  don’t   let life in
The childish jealousy, the hating heart
Make my  very self  feel pain.I want no part