You may know the beautiful—-
And those who aspire to be beautiful—and all the rest.
But for tears and poetry that transforms,
Too beautiful is best.

Too beautiful to have, too beautiful to rest,
Too beautiful to want—too beautiful
Is truly beautiful. Too beautiful is best.

You whisper your love to the beautiful,
In long paths, holding hands.
With the too beautiful you cannot speak
For reasons only the beautiful understands.

Lie beside the remembered, and rest;
The remembered fits inside of pictures;
Remembered is remembered as it dies, beautiful, in the west—
A boiling horizon of tamarind trees—
Remembered—a scent in the midnight breeze—
Dying, and beautiful.
But too beautiful always is.

You may know the beautiful—
And those who aspire to be beautiful—and all the rest.
The beautiful you know are beautiful.
But too beautiful is best.








  1. maryangeladouglas said,

    March 27, 2016 at 12:52 pm

    I think this may be my favorite poem that you have written. It is beautiful to read this poem. Thank you.

  2. Andrew said,

    March 27, 2016 at 7:28 pm

    As a Calvinist Protestant, it is hard for me to take images of the “Madonna” seriously…

  3. maryangeladouglas said,

    March 27, 2016 at 8:48 pm

    That is unfortunate, Andrew. Jesus took his mother seriously enough to commend her to the disciple he loved the most. Not all Protestants think like you about this, the Madonnas of the Renaissance are exquisite and holy works of art, as are the icons of the Eastern Orthodox. You of course have a right to your own opinion but don’t pass it off on Protestantism. Mary was favored of God. That is no light thing, Certainly, not a thing to ridicule. Are you really Christian? I don’t understand you.

    • maryangeladouglas said,

      March 27, 2016 at 9:00 pm

      By way of illustration, literally, the First Presbyterian Church of Little Rock Arkansas (and many other Protestant churches across the u.s.) were proud to stock in their church libraries a book by Cynthia Pearl Maus (1947) entitled: The World’s Great Madonnas: An Anthology of Pictures, Poetry, Music, And Stories Centering On The Life Of The Madonna and Her Son. Cynthia Maus was Protestant. Protestant churches as well as Catholic churches, many of them respected the great art that represented Joseph, Mary, Jesus and all the saints. This was all considered part of our heritage as well as being part of the heritage of world art in general.

      Your attitude of extreme ridicule toward this art is not good. The same attitude was exhibited by crude soldiers in the U.S.S.R. who enjoyed defacing the paintings of Mary, at one shrine a soldier took out a sword and scarred her face depicted there. Is that whose side you are on? What the heck.

      Cynthia Maus compiled another book: Christ In The Fine Arts a similar kind of anthology.

      If you are interested in these books you can probably find them on Amazon, Alibris, or especially for very low prices, used editions in good condition. No offense, but educate yourself, for heaven’s sake.

      • maryangeladouglas said,

        March 27, 2016 at 9:33 pm

        Andrew, I think you are trying to be some kind of show-off edgy Christian but mainly you are saying what you do to put me down and show out in front of the boys. I’m not even a feminist so what the heck is your point. I guess that’s what the David Bowie crap was about too. You;re not a Protestant. You’re just a jerk. And anyway, John Calvin was a sour puss. Maybe someday you’ll grow up. It isn’t up to me. I’m not trying to change anybody; I would consider that to be not my business at all. But if you don’t say things with sincerity and if you say things to make other people look bad or foolish and yourself look oh so clever you are not representing anything good.

        • maryangeladouglas said,

          March 27, 2016 at 11:07 pm

          Your delayed, deliberate lack of response is also predictable. Some people build (good) things. Other people tear them down. Every human being gets to pick which group they want to belong to. But the builders of good belong to God.

          • maryangeladouglas said,

            March 27, 2016 at 11:24 pm


            scarring the face of Mary once again
            what harm can you do to her now
            that Christ has met his end

            and overcome the wounding Worm

            and suffered before her eyes
            before the mocking crowd
            the baby she held against her

            heart, and in her arms from every worldly dart defending.
            how would you be mending that, would you?
            her heart I mean is scarred beyond

            all superficial harm you might inflict
            on her image. so there’s no recompense.
            think on yourselves: what kind of heroes

            let the light out of the sky

            and darkness in.

            mary angela douglas 27 march 2016

            • maryangeladouglas said,

              March 27, 2016 at 11:59 pm


              [to Ray Bradbury long ago, on a fire balloon night
              with his Grandfather…]

              fizz out bad firecrackers, in the long grass
              you who wanted to see some trouble
              come to pass

              and brought your own flashlights to the
              children who sense you coming
              hide under the underpass of God

              and let the trucks roll over.
              you think it’s all clover now
              you’ve got whole worlds

              under your thumb and that
              we’re on the run as if we
              were your shadows, retinue.

              chew toys.

              but you don’t view like the birds do
              taking in the whole scene.
              there’s Someone with a heavier footfall

              on the way whose keen
              to confliscate your bag of tricks
              your snaps and wicks

              and oh, by far

              He’s a bigger candle than you are.

              mary angela douglas 27 march 2016

          • Andrew said,

            March 27, 2016 at 11:31 pm

            Delayed lack of response? Odd idea on your part…
            But God’s truth stands firm like a foundation stone with this inscription: “The LORD knows those who are his,” and “All who belong to the LORD must turn away from evil.”

            Happy Easter and hope you find all the eggs.

            Woe to me when all [wo]men speak well of me ☻

        • Andrew said,

          March 27, 2016 at 11:28 pm

          John Calvin rocked your Grandma’s SOX.
          (lighten up, Mary…)

      • Andrew said,

        March 27, 2016 at 11:53 pm

        And it came to pass, as he spake these things, a certain woman of the company lifted up her voice, and said unto him, Blessed is the womb that bare thee, and the paps which thou hast sucked.

        But he said, Yea rather, blessed are they that hear the word of God, and keep it. [Luke 11]

    • Andrew said,

      March 27, 2016 at 11:27 pm

      Well, Mary – you are free to disagree but it’s not worth getting upset about…

  4. Gary B. Fitzgerald said,

    March 28, 2016 at 2:59 am

    “If this is the best God can do, I’m not impressed.”
    — George Carlin,

  5. Gary B. Fitzgerald said,

    March 28, 2016 at 3:02 am

    “How can He be perfect? Everything He ever makes…dies.”
    —George Carlin

  6. Gary B. Fitzgerald said,

    March 28, 2016 at 3:40 am


    Suppose there’s God; but what is God,
    who creates the fragrant rose?
    The very meaning of the word itself
    means that which no man knows.
    And if there’s God, why would this God,
    who has every forest grown,
    plant seeds of living just to give
    the reaper what he’s sown?

    We can’t see God, can’t speak with God,
    so what man can really say?
    Perhaps all are wrong, or perhaps
    God provides us each a way.
    Each person differs in his view,
    we carry many different loads.
    So maybe God leads all of us,
    just on many different roads.

    Copyright 2005 – Evolving: Poems 1965-2005, Gary B. Fitzgerald

    • maryangeladouglas said,

      March 28, 2016 at 3:45 pm

      No matter what you write about in your poems, Gary, I always get the feeling of a kind of dead ringer clang when the horseshoe lands perfectly that is very real. I’m glad you’ve written so many poems and that your poems always feel like they are branching out of your life and thought. That is rare these days. There’s no dead air or space in your poems;they almost seem to me something out of the natural world the way you would come upon a canyon or a clump of ferns or a cloud scudded summer sky and you just feel it’s familiar and it’s the way it’s supposed to be, just living that way.

  7. maryangeladouglas said,

    March 28, 2016 at 6:47 am

    I do believe He sees us as individuals and it matters to Him that we are (individuals). I like your poem.

  8. maryangeladouglas said,

    March 29, 2016 at 1:28 am


    You have laid out paths for our feet of the infinite agate
    jeweled mosaics sparkling each to each and intricately made
    of beauty past our remembering, the cooling waters.

    overhead, the sapphire;emerald, close at hand
    and set us down in the rose gardens of the world.
    as if that weren’t enough jewelry for us then

    we look overhead to see the spangled evenings’
    crystalline unwind and we find
    in our dreams your trees wind-whispering still

    and beyond, the apple blossom orchards’ snows
    mimic so laughingly the frozen winter woes, the laceworked
    and so, the apricot and the cherry in petaling chorales

    the peach and plum as vivdly strewn.

    and with us as the seasons run, the fainter perfumes
    in memory remain,retain the hope of their return or
    sometimes as is the way in dreams

    or mystical paintings, music of the triptych paneled,
    all at the same time comes to view and
    limned with gold from the sun; the paler gold of the moon.

    but oh we look where Heaven shines and prophesies

    and long to find and want to sigh disconsolately
    ah there is
    a better land than this.

    and I stop short to say: amazed and wondering:
    how could there be

    mary angela douglas 28 march 2016

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