Because my dad is an artist, I grew up with deep discussions on things like the definition or value of beauty. It is a difficult and deep subject.
As a kid (even as a teenager and college student) I didn't understand how guys could look at a picture of a woman and declare that she was beautiful, because to me people always became beautiful as I grow to know them. I'm still that way, and many of you are, too. When I watch my dad paint, I see this same thing happening-- he creates the image and only by that process does something beautiful emerge. In other words, when he starts the relationship with his subject, there is no beauty, only an idea of form. But then, as the subject is imbued with life, beauty becomes clearer with each stroke. Each movement of a brush is an event, an experience, something he shares with that emerging being, and it is form plus life that makes beauty.
So let's haiku about beauty today-- a person or thing you find beautiful, from nature or your family or from something else. It's a broad subject. Have fun!
Here is mine:
It scrambles quickly
Under water, feet splayed.
There! Exquisite shell.
Now it is your turn... make it five syllables, then seven, then five, and enjoy yourself!
Hair like Navajo
ReplyDeleteRingband,her skin caramel,
Sere tulip,see how
She dies beautifully.
Her lungs fragile balloons dry...
Sing a train's song.
Dorie holds her baby
Her arm rests on the rocker
Madonna indigo.
In the kitchen she
Finally sits,farm wife,perfumed
Sweat,dirt,drudge."Hello,Honey."
You are beautiful
ReplyDeleteHe said with hesitation
And a fight ensued.
Why won't you love me?
Because you will ruin my life
That is so not true.
Dig deep and dig strong
You chose me and I chose you
I love what I chose.
Laugh lines are lovely,
ReplyDeleteEyes crinkle in the corner:
Laughter etched in skin.
Hair matted and skin
ReplyDeletescratched, eyes set back full of fear.
No place to lay head.
Disease. Addiction.
And nothing in appearance
worth desiring.
Damn those 17oz sodas.
In a doorway laid.
This cold and hungry mother.
Methamphetamines.
And yet. A spark of
something else. A reflection
still, of someone else.
ReplyDeleteVittoria
She doesn't wear paint
Her nose,mouth not crowd-approved
By high school critics.
Politics lean way left
Stomach like a full plump moon
Hair shade of blast red
She's given to love
Both men and women and for this
She's bullied.Often...
She can't remember
How rare she is.She wears slogans.
Stands up for the weak.
When she sings with her
Whole being,Teenage Lovely,
Nightingale is freed.
More than symmetry,
ReplyDeleteThe last red rose at sunset,
Petals fall, thorns hurt.
Ok. Enough of the mushy stuff, and being all thoughtful, seeing beauty where few do. (Mine included)
ReplyDeleteCan we get some more positivity going. Where do we actually see beauty?!
I'm watching the one sport team I am actually passionate about right now, the Green Bay packers. So lets try this.
ReplyDeleteAll stand tensely still.
Symmetrically apposed.
Then... BOOOM! It. Is. On.
"He's Beauty"
ReplyDeleteTwo black baby eyes
Messed up teeth, a row of moles
Soft black tousled hair
He doesn't exist
He's an amalgamation
Of the ones I love.
ReplyDeleteLake Vermilion
I look through the pines
The lake jumps up to my eyes--
Wave sound enters me:
I too am liquid,
As I was at the beginning--
Before I grew feet.
This peace I feel is
Beauty,beauty that devours
Small things thoroughly.
She lived for twenty-
ReplyDeleteFive years without her daughter
Mind-scammed by a man.
Odd sadness no one could
Cure.She did not fit in.Bright,
Gifted as she was.Fired
From jobs that might have
Been her home,she gave her love
To cats instead.Then the
Cats went the way of
All things eventually.
Last job tanked.She went
To New York to care
For daughter's family.At
Last,beautiful symmetry.
The plastic bottle
ReplyDeleterolled up against the curb
into a ray of light
the man sitting on
that same curb smiled and said
life is beautiful
John--I love that. It's truly a gem.Perfect in economy of words,perfect sentiment.
ReplyDeleteInky wide...Oh eyes
ReplyDeleteOf Nefertiti,solemnwise
Words had gravity
In English,in French
In Amharic,you spokeserious
And I listened hard.
Engera and wat
From a redandblue basket
Of straw,we scooped food
And drank cinnamon
Tea. When I think of beauty
I see you walking.
Floating, black, yellow
ReplyDeletestriped; flower and nectar
tempted to pause, eat
Her face a jolly
ReplyDeleteScone of comfort wreathed in smiles
She never said no.
Sterling tiara
Strands fluffed beside cheeks & brow
Yes,I will watch your
Baby or puppy
Or child.Yes--come for tea or
Dinner.Yes,I love you.
She taught Christ's way,with
Much dignity,so much service.
Beauty thy name:Vena.
ReplyDelete-Margaret McBride-
Texas woman, steel
fist in glove,smells of magnolia
Her Belief is her business.
You shall love the Lord
You shall love your neighbor,she
Won't retreat,surrender.
ReplyDelete-Jane-
Her hair is gray now,
Tahitian pearl, and she moves
In a whirlwind.Always
Late.You should have seen
Me then," she says,"before the
PTSD." Her voice,soft,shakes.
She worked for The
Bureau twenty-five years. Sent
to investigate
9-11,she found Them taking
What did not belong to Them
Blew the whistle hard.
What they did to her
Is hard to imagine,her
Courage blazes beauty.
She still loves,still teaches
Daughter:treasure difference.
Bathes her in truth,light.
ReplyDelete-The Grinch-
In his mind he is
Dwarvish.There is no point in
Growing.Hair cauliflour'd
To match brows and 'stache.
His lawn is his realm.It is
The only thing he owns,
She took the big house.
He got the Mustang,MG
And Ford Explorer.
He decorates porch
For a party.But doesn't give one.
She comes with her dog
And the dog waters
His lawn yellow.Volcano rises
In his craw. He yells
"Get off of my yard!"
She sweet sass talks back,erupts
All grievances he holds.
"You're a nut-case he says."
Beauty is green meadow back
Of her house.Absent of hate.