To the waitress, with the blond highlights in her bangs

From a lonely romantic

I’m sorry I keep looking at you.
Better, I’m sorry you're uncomfortable.
It’s just difficult not to stare.


You are beautiful, and I don’t mean to be objectifying.
It’s like when you’re a child and you see a Rembrandt
before you knew who he was. It’s beautiful without knowing

Technique.

I’m not a painter, so I really can’t explain past that.

...It’s like reading a Shel Silverstein poem for the first time. Maybe it’s the “Missing Piece.”
You see the pretty pictures, you get the pretty plot (“Having is nice, but the living a quest.”)
But eventually you learn. 

You learn Mr. Silverstein abandoned his family 

for work. Even though his lover died, and his 

children were sent to their aunt. And his daughter 

died from a brain aneurysm.

You learn that missing pieces 

Made up his life, pieces for which he either wasn’t looking 

Or couldn’t find. You learn the lesson ("Having is nice, but living is a quest") 

is as appalling as it is heart-wrenching.
                                         

Essentially you learn this poem is three dimensional, 

As I am sure you are. 

I tell you this because, in this light, from this perspective, 

You are beautiful. And I imagine that in 

other perspectives of you, I will meet something 

funny and dark and dreamy and foolish 

and loving and angry and beautiful and bleak

and mad and petty and cruel and pure

but still as potent a missing piece as I can seek.

 
Would you like a drink?

Thanks to TheHickstead for the movie.

Subatomic Particles: A Tragic Love Story

An atom is uncuttable. Literally, “uncuttable.”

Atoms, just like the rest of us though, are thralled by what’s inside. There are “little bits beneath the uncuttable” (literally, subatomic particles) that not only exist, but whose attraction makes everything. It’s a nanoscopic courtship -- the protons and electrons, pulling and pushing, tugging and running at each other.


This is not poetic rambling! I am not fantasizing from the reality of positive and negative charges. There is no positive and negative; there is no charge! These categories enervate what we really see: a longing between two little bits, making it work, alone beneath the “uncuttable.” Believe! They exist and they love!

Watch as the electron picometers towards the proton. It shakes as it gets close. Poised on the edge, an electric chaos, jittery beyond physics. They never touch.

Oh, this is a universe of tease.