Thursday, June 30, 2005

The middle name of love


Never Watch Romeo & Juliet
Before Leaving For Work

There are reasons for this, of course.

If your imprint for true love lies in the viewing
of this film eleven times in the opening weekend,
if the range of altitudes to which a passion
can ascend and descend are thus calibrated
within the malleable tissue of a pulsing boy’s
fifteen year-old virginal heart and are revealed
within the framework of such cinema, then woe
betide you for even considering such a thing.

You see, there is no recovery from this.
There are only swollen eyes filled with
the runny smoke of a scarlet sea that invites
the question upon entering the office door,
“Are you alright?” and the stifled reasons why you
cannot possibly begin to answer with such
a precious truth that no, everything is not alright,
that there are things in both heaven and earth
that remain cherished beyond our small experience
of it, permanently hallowed by the perishable
beauty of such sacred commencements.

As surely as I was a boy in the dark, I fell in love
with love, over and over. I wanted to love like that.
Later, I would learn to want to be loved like that.
Much too later.


I wanted to drink poison. I wanted to bury steel within
my own breast. I wanted to bear the barbed reveille
of a morning lark, to feel its thorny song impale me
again and again as I reluctantly disentangled myself
from the silken webbing of a woven girl’s arms. I wanted
to burn beneath an inconstant moon even as the distance
between love and fire grew wider, less luminous, gradually
more tenuous, until I was again alone in the dark.

I wanted this and dared to believe I would have it.
Had I known it would be thirty-five long years
before it found me, I would have still wanted it.
Waiting is the middle name of love.
In some cases, perhaps even the first.

There are reasons for this, of course.

Joseph Gallo
June 23, 2002



Blogger ~Just Michelle~ parried...

"Waiting is the middle name of love.
In some cases, perhaps even the first.

There are reasons for this, of course."

Impatience has, at times, led me down the wrong roads but, even so, being where I am right at this moment...I regret nothing.

July 01, 2005 1:51 PM  
Blogger Kyle parried...

So what's the last name of love?

July 07, 2005 10:08 PM  
Blogger joseph parried...

To my daughter, Sequoya:

I have replied each time, darlin'. And I've tried calling but your phone does not accept calls from blocked caller ID phones. And my phone will not unblock. Call or write me and let me know if you got my e-mail replies. ;-)

To Michelle:

"I regret nothing." I like that. It's the only way to live. Thanks for the reminder. For my part, impatience is not what I'm alluding to here, however. Forbearance is, perhaps a better description. It simply is about accepting that one cannot push the river. ;-)

To Kyle:

"So what's the last name of love?"
Good question. I've thought about that and each time I have come up with a new name. Tonight the last name is AGAIN. ;-)

July 08, 2005 7:36 PM  
Blogger Anna parried...

"Waiting is the middle name of love.
In some cases, perhaps even the first.

There are reasons for this, of course."

This is beautiful and true. Rilke would be proud of you. That page I linked for you is on exactly this topic, I think.

I have been feeling this same thing, that the love that has come before is preparing me for a greater, more profound one, if I just learn the lessons.

August 21, 2005 3:35 PM  

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