Beauty is in the eye of the beholder:
This much I know is true.
Logically, it must therefore follow
That you’re beheld by very few.
Tag Archives: beauty
When “Beauty” Becomes An Industry
There are some people named “she”
Who want, to a man’s heart, the key
So they wear a disguise
For their tits, hips, and eyes
To find men who will “love me for me.”
Filed under Poems
Youthful Needs
My heart afire
In dead of night
I seek out comfort
In my phone’s backlight.
I read and comment,
Like and share,
Yet, despite the burning heart thing,
I just don’t care.
Like silver in a rainbow,
Like water in the sun
I seek in vain for some intelligence
But find “25 people you wouldn’t believe used to be a nun.”
Then I look out the window
On the acres of green,
The infinite paradise
Of Earth so serene.
The rabbits are dancing,
The deer leap and bound,
The flowers are fragrant,
The air sweet with sound.
My heart’s more aflame now
Than ever it was.
Then deep in my pocket
I feel my phone buzz.
Filed under Poems
Where The Real Happiness Lies
It’s a hot Summer day
In paradise.
The sunscreen is out
And the coffee’s on ice.
The sun’s glow is amber.
The birds casually glide.
It makes me so sad
There’s no TV outside.
Filed under Poems
He Avoids The Rain
The sunset cast the rain aglow
And the water burned with light.
The last flowers of Summer
And the first leaves of fall
Mingled in the rising wind
And the owl and the bluejay
Sang the first duet of the evening.
Somewhere down below
A man looks up at the harmony
And raises his umbrella.
Filed under Poems
Summer, 4 AM
Such beauty there is in silence,
And in the sounds of Earth.
The songs of birds and crickets
Are of inestimable worth.
Yet beauty can be terrible,
And becomes so without warning
Like when you’re late night homework
And the birds sing that it’s morning.
Filed under Poems
Regarding the Effects of Alcohol on Perception
Her face was almost holy,
But in truth was kind of crass
Like a baseball in a church
Hit through a window of stained glass.
Her body was like a lion,
Kind of noble, but too hairy,
And her name was like a melody
That sounded just like “Jerry.”
And as we flirted in the bed
Of her slate grey Chevy truck
Her laugh closely resembled
A mixed chihuahua and a duck.
And I drew a terrible conclusion
As sparks flew through the truck.
Jerry wasn’t a her at all,
And I’d run out of luck.
Filed under Poems
The Real You
(G) (C)
I do not like those other girls
(D) (G)
Who wear their hair in silly curls.
(Em) (C)
I don’t like other girls like you,
(D7) (G)
I only like the real you.
(G) (CMaj7)
I don’t like other blue-eyed ladies.
(DMaj7)
I don’t drive cars that look like a Mercedes.
(Em) (C)
I won’t take periwinkle when I can have blue,
(D7) (G)
And I only love the real you.
(C)
So if you look at magazines
(F) (F7)
And think you need that dress or jeans,
(C) (G)
Think again. You’re fine as is.
(D7) (G)
It’s the real you I want to kiss.
Bridge: G, DMaj7, CMaj7, Em, B, Em, A7
(D)
Every morning I wake up,
(G) (Em)
I take a sip from my coffee cup.
(G) (AMaj7)
I’ll bide my time and hide my blues
(G7) (D)
Until you’re mine: The real you.
The Daily Travesty 