The beauty is not in the suffering...
What suffering person
who truly suffered
truly looked beautiful?
To all you poets and artists
Seeds of vanity plant pity within thumbprints of saddened soils
And then you march to kitchen drawers
and demand a new knife with which to cut your arm.
But you cannot say suffering truly has its way.
Find beauty scarred, sunken, starving
paint it's picture
because you feel beautiful next to it.
Then for the rest of the day, sit on the windowsill, smoke your cigarettes.
Maybe go for a coffee and a walk at 3 PM
Feel how beautiful you must look as you clearly suffer.
Then write.
Then feel.
And then you know you will write.
You feel inside you a moment within which to find a beautiful thing
A beautifully painful thing.
And share it with the world.
You wrap it in tissue paper taped in needles
smear blood on it
call it a whore.
They will say oh! They will cry and feel the pain.
They will clap as you bow down the stage
While the one who truly suffers says nothing at all
just falls
goes away.
And the applause echoes down a lonely hall
A piano echoes back
The most beautiful of chords
As art and suffering hold hands and skip vainly down the sidewalk together.
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2 comments:
Um... Where do I start?! First of all, THIS IS MY FAVORITE POEM YOU HAVE EVER WRITTEN! Hands down, without a doubt. It is RAW and beautiful! I love the way it cuts directly to the heart of what no one else is willing to say. I like the way that it pretty much says, "Don't act like you're something real when you're actually just a shitty poser."
Now for specific things: I love the title of this one, and of the one in the previous post. I love the way these titles just lay everything out, raw, naked, unadorned, and unapologetic. I like the way reading them feels like an immediate punch to the gut. They are POWERFUL titles!
And here are my favorite lines from this one:
"The seeds of vanity plant pity within the thumbprints of saddened soils"
"Find beauty scarred, sunken, starving
paint it's picture
because you feel beautiful next to it."
"Feel how beautiful you must look as you clearly suffer.
Then write.
Then feel.
And then you know you will write."
"You wrap it in tissue paper taped in needles
smear blood on it
call it a whore."
"As art and suffering hold hands and skip vainly down the sidewalk together."
I want to spray paint the words of this poem on walls all across Seattle!
...the last line took the breath away... i enjoyed my visit.. thanks!!!...(^^)b...
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