Skip to main content

Esthetic Arrest Prt I: Beautiful

The human mind fascinates me so. Have you ever landed your gaze on something or someone beautiful? It was like the act in itself rendered you paralyzed. Completely against your will but strangely voluntary. The stare. I do that shxt all the time.

If creativity says Let God Speak. Then Beauty says Look at God. To deny the magnificence of life and thus being alive, is to take the sand from the desert.. To rid the ocean of salt. You are denying the fire its flame, you remove oxygen from air. You are seeing things in black and white. You are racist. :)

Beauty when experienced in such raw awe, makes us feel good; studies have shown. Makes you wonder doesn't it? Could we clear the clutter the system has overloaded us with? Will we then, as a people go on the craziest adventure to find Beauty in everything?

I'm down if you are. Shxt, when I saw you, I felt threatened and intrigued at the same time. Why are you even talking to me? Laughing at my lame jokes. Can't you see everybody in the spot be looking at you?

Beauty can be so aspris sometimes. You've seen it.. The sugar daddy phenomenon. And now the blesser situation. Prostitution. Promiscuity. But surely this is not the beauty of which I speak? That seems to me like surface beauty, parlor tricks with monetary incentives. My beauty is naked. Uncensored and crooked in the smile. I see you and I see beyond. A work of art. Poetry. The Dance and the Music you Are.

I hereby vow to look upon you like a statue that hands gold in the day and silver in the night. Let's see that smile again...?

Fxcking Beautiful.

Z

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Written For Spoken #3: Defeated Victor by Glen

" 'Strategy without tactics is the slowest route to victory. Tactics without strategy is the noise before defeat.' -        ~Sun Tzu I once knew a woman of admirable values. Her beauty so deep, it resonates from the inside out.   She was beautiful down to her soul, th e kind of beauty lasts forever , or so I thought. You could spot her in a crowd of thousands, for her beauty is unique. But over time she has been swallowed by the crowd and I can barely recognize her. When I see her face now, I see a stranger clad in anger, disguised in sorrow and bitterness and I can’t make out who she is. She looks at me with anger and regret, her gaze burning straight through me as if she intentionally wants to pierce my soul with her stare of a thousand daggers. I can’t even look in her eyes as the tinted windows of her soul bear no resemblance to the warmth I once knew as my sanctuary. I remember when things were simple and loving each other was like air, eas

Written for Spoken #2: See You In Heaven by Raandjua

"Like a rose in full bloom, life's thorns and flowers prickle and pierce the veins to my heart My tear glands have dried up like a once delicate flower in the Namib Dessert on a cold cold winter night   Mya's white pearls intertwined between my fingers remind me of our time together and how we used to make each other smile   Summer rain-red robots-screeching tires...the ear-piercing sound of ambulance sirens in the dark of the night, came as if, from the mouth of the angel of death   Summer rain-red robots-screeching tires…and just like that, the love of my life was gone   Fallen autumn pebbles on the sidewalk awaken visions of blood-drenched leaves   Memories of song and dance are ever-present realities, in a reality, devoid of life   Those mourning lost loved ones and lost love are the subjects of my envy Tears run down their cheeks and I reach over to wipe them away, as I pray, that their tears, never run away   For once they do, then they too will one day be st

Written For Spoken #4: A Legend of a Smile

I saw her. On the insides of my eyelids where she resides on her throne of brightness; she’s a sun in a dark room, and I sat there charging in her radiance like a Kryptonian. Every ray, a soft stroke telling me it’s ok to love again.  Her skin is velvet. Silk strands merged with my fingers. As I held her hand, her gaze tore through my fallen generations and handpicked me to award this smile to. It’s magic, but it’s fire... keeps you warm. Especially when you rub your hands over her, or MARSHMALLOWS, You could fry marshmallows on her soul. Every time I looked at her, my being shook, like opening a new book where the first few lines got you hooked. The silent alarm, telling Neo to wake up.  The way her face lit up; the sparkle in her eye like a torch on a Tamagochi. Her cheeks running away from each other, kept together by that cute nose, eyes collapsing in an explosion of happiness.  Was that a giggle or is Olympus falling? Is she a goddess come to grant me a laugh so fluffy I