Beauty

 

When I think of grand beauty, so large it suspends disbelief, I think
of archaic poets,
old bones writing sonnets…
an homage to the day; O glorious day! As the spun gold of heaven’s
sweet tears, woven and sewn into resonating harmonies; a risen jubilee,
a triumphant return…and I cry a little inside…that beauty can be contained
in such pitiful words, can be splayed for autopsy as the need arises, as
the moment comes, as spiteful as we are; we can read and be aware
that beauty is immutable yet
never the same to any.

Our bias and filters, the emotional channels we watch on
the high def television
installed in our souls…
a closed circuit for monitoring grief and loss, happiness and success…our
view of beauty is always somewhat restricted, somewhat distorted yet we
can stand in tight circles, stand among peers, stand for nothing at all and
all agree on beauty as a concept as a vision held in concert with the crowd,
the public, the audience and all feel quite alone in our
embracing of the common.

Human beauty as written by the immortals,
by the poets of the soul,
by the time we got here…
it is imperceptivity moving from here, where we see the advertisement, where
we feel the cold warmth of neon, where we stand and look look
look for truth…it is moving with a color fading another brightening, a line
of eyelid dipping dropping slightly until next minute week year the style is not
the same, different and familiar; a rewording of an apology to ourselves,
that what we want desire hold is wrong.

But we are beauty because it is defined by the common us,
yet we all look outward
not peering into the dark, still
and waveless ponds we call our souls because they have no production value
(we have learned); our direction is juvenile and strained, there is a language
we don’t know for describing beauty so we read and watch others translate
say do spell out for us, our small and meaningless lives as footnotes, as
minor supporting cast members waiting offstage for the lead to fail to
call us in and read our lines.

Beauty is simple, it is us, it is the moment we forget that we don’t know
it is the moment when our fear is eclipsed by our want and need
it is a tide of emotion running solidly up against the sands of our souls
leaving bits and pieces of remembered life for us to find, washed clean
of failure, of disgrace, of opportunities wasted and lost…beauty is
us…it is us.

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