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The Beautiful Truth
I want to write, write my life away into the eternal wind. Raw and rough with honesty and truth, with respect to the reader, with respect to my self.
Do I want to conform to social ideals imposed on me? Or challenge and discover a new path, a modern religion, a revolutionary way of thinking.
Like a beautiful mourning body, resting preparing for death. As cruel and painful as it is, because its not death but the human being impatient ready to depart and lay in peace. Is just a dove dressed in elegant, beautiful black garments flying away to never return again. Just the body is flying away but the memories will stay and forever live and we will cherish them.
In life, enjoy the process not with sarcastic laughter for the momentary pain, the misery; In contrary with respect and conformity to the unbearable and unchangeable experiences which will occur throughout life on earth. Looking forward with an analytical mind, taking steps and decisions which will enhance and cushion that emotion which could lead to self destruction.
We need to learn to walk away if needed to be, or confront the great beast standing beside our bed. To explore ourselves with peace, meditation and infinite patience. Time is the key. To embrace pain because the motivational speech of perfection and happiness is a cardinal sin. But I want to clarify this because life is a combination of love and pain. To deny one is to deny death, which is as true as one breathes. Is it?
With this title I am reminded of a darker Keats.............
for wasn't it he ( John Keats) who said truth is beauty, beauty is truth and your title and the deep dark embodiment of your thoughts for just a moment brought Keats to mind though a more philosophical darker version of him but no less romantic in a manner of strange. Not to say that I didn't truly enjoy this poem for I did. You do have a unique angle from which you explore your man self of words and thoughts. I look forward to reading more of your word flesh you have shared here within the confines of this cottage coffin of sweet ecstasy that we call post poems............ sincerely, Melissa Lundeen...........