THERE IS NO BEAUTY, TRULY—ORIGINAL SCARRIET POEM

There is no beauty, truly.
The loveliest person
Never knows they are beautiful.
Their lovers do not have to be.

The rhetoric of seduction,
Is no proof of beauty,
Even when fruitful,
Even in the singing of the spring.

Beauty never rests in beauty,
For what if beauty, truly beautiful, should beautifully sing?
The territory of birds
Once vanquished, forever needs vanquishing.
If the bird never holds still,
How will we know beauty, or beauty’s will?

Neither flattery nor kindness
Care for beauty’s measure.
Lips will always deny
The eye’s treasure.

Even Venus, breasts bared,
Exciting the crowd, worries
That, in comparison to another’s,
Some part of her body is not quite right.
We argue down beauty, truly.
Beauty in the day is never beautiful at night,
And the least beautiful is beauty’s fame.

There is no beauty, truly,
Unless you speak of the soft breathing of the sky
When the dying sun softly colors cloud and atmosphere,
Which only shows there is no beauty down here.

There is no beauty, truly,
Except your beauty, which,
When named, is only a name.

3 Comments

  1. noochinator said,

    June 15, 2014 at 12:17 pm

    Each partner should be the key
    That fits the other partner’s lock—
    Great beauty could be essential,
    Or it could be a superfluous crock—

    For varied are the aspects
    Of a healthy human creature—
    Solicitude, the meeting of needs
    Matter more than fairness of feature.

  2. thomasbrady said,

    June 15, 2014 at 1:18 pm

    Thanks, Nooch.

    “The meeting of needs matter more than fairness of feature” —nicely done!

    Hey I just realized that “which” can be read as “witch” in the penultimate line of “There Is No Beauty Truly” and it works perfectly.

    Always nice to reread Scarriet posts 😉

  3. noochinator said,

    June 19, 2014 at 10:26 am

    “…[T]he simple truth is that though so much is made of the woman’s beauty in love stories, passion does not require it. Plato’s idea that lovers were originally one person, the two parts having become separated and desiring to be joined, is as good an explanation as any for what cannot in the mind of an outsider ever be convincingly accounted for.” —William Maxwell, form his short novel So Long, See You Tomorrow


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