Month: May 2017

Kalpna Singh-Chitnis – Contemplation On Seasons

Beauty is an awareness of our true nature and being who we are. Going against our nature to become something else is void of beauty and originality. From the beginning of the universe, everything created by nature is unique. No two trees, plants and flowers are alike. A tree never tries to compete with another tree.

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Susan Tepper – Three Poems

Some find beauty in perfection, while for me, beauty can present as a rotted tree trunk, a fence missing slats in exchange for honeysuckle, an old house gone to wrack and ruin. I look into things that might have once been considered beautiful, seeing them with a fresh perspective, at the possibilities, as they travel through what is known as time.

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Yuan Changming – Four Poems

What is beauty? For me, it is every tree, every cloud, every horse, every mountain, every good-looking child and woman I see; every inspiring poem I read; every wonderful dream I recall; every smart idea I hit upon; every bird chirrup I hear; every snowflake I catch; or every moment of happiness I experience, like this one, like right now.

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Bill Wolak – Six Collages

Beauty is startling, but also somehow hauntingly familiar. An instantaneous recognition that’s not entirely analytical resonates through the mind and body. Suddenly, the smoothness of a thigh, a falling snowflake, an empty nest, the taste of a summer peach, the poignant lines of a poem all capture the attention almost like a spell and cause one’s awareness to be concentrated into an expansive experience: a moment of unanticipated growth or turbulence or transformation.

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Jacob Hammer – Three Poems

Beauty is the wound that heals you as it digs further. It’s what all poetry, all art that is truly art is after. When I see it in poetry, I know it because, to paraphrase Dickinson, it takes the top of my head off. Beautiful poetry reaches between our ribs and makes a home there by shifting our organ around and becoming a part of us forever.

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Diana Raab – Five Poems

Some people often speak about objects, concepts, and individuals as being beautiful. These are things that might stand out to them or resonate with them. In Buddhism texts, there’s often a reference to the beauty of nature—the trees, the flowers, the mountains, and the animals. The lotus, which is often seen in Buddhist realms, is one of the most beautiful flowers. The way it grows in the mud and erupts into a spectacular living thing is phenomenal.

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Anya Silver – Five Poems

I suspect that what we consider beautiful is often a bit strange; there is beauty in the ordinary, but beauty is that which is not ordinary. When I see or hear something beautiful, I feel it in my body and breath. Beauty exists everywhere, including in the midst of great suffering and ugliness; perhaps that kind of beauty is the most potent of all.

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Jim Zola – Four Poems

I was walking with my wife on the beach and she was taking pictures of the sun and waves. On the sand, I stumbled upon a dead fish, half eaten. And to me, that was the most beautiful thing I saw on the beach. So I took a picture of it. And my wife, knowing my odd sense of beauty, just laughed.

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Gail Braune Comorat – Three Poems

I’ve seen it in a lake reflecting autumn trees, a loon swimming through the reds and oranges. I’ve felt it in the vivid colors of a friend’s painting. Sometimes beauty is simply a slice of lemon meringue pie on a Delft blue plate or a dandelion growing in a field at Norris Campground.

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Jane Andrews – Three Poems

Beauty is the Incarnation of divinity, nothing less. As with many Incarnations, paradoxically, it often escapes notice. Its asymmetry at times can fool the eye, the mind, and the heart. Everything, every large, abstract idea is contained in the smallest particularity. A quail’s egg holds the Big Bang.

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Brandi Jo Nyberg – Seneca Rocks

Beauty is a flash flood in the desert. The blooming of fireweed and arctic lupine. Beauty is turquoise, milky glacial waters rushing past alpenglow mountains. A vulture soaring in a cloudless blue sky. A sun-bleached bone resting in the sand. The way wind whispers through the trees. The smell of dark earth after rain. Beauty exists within the small moments of solitude I am granted in nature.

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Jonathan Simkins – Four Translations

I am most interested in revealing what is hidden. I think that when we perceive the inner aspects of something, we are able to glimpse, if only partially, its original, primordial form. It’s not the sound of the ocean we hear in the seashell: it’s a reflection of the object’s internal music.

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