Beauty in Form

Kia Ora,

I have been working on a new poem, clearly influenced heavily by Walt Whitman. Working an homage toward the greatest free verse poet ever is quite the task. But I have been trying and I felt I could share what I have so far. Work in progress, but I think I can see where it’s going. Ironically, I wrote this after watching a pulp horror French film, but hey, inspiration hits when it hits. I hope you enjoy.

Clayton

Beauty in Form

Beauty!
The chest, full
A barrel to rest a weary head!

The fingers and hands
Pulsing with veins
Blood coursing at the days hard labour

The arms wide
Long, made to embrace
And to envelope completely

Beauty!
Is the male form
Splendor, God’s own image

Beauty in the beard!
In the hair in all crevice
To make warm a cold day

And to make well
A wet cheek
And an equally moist heart

But do not forget
The mother
The kind heart of the gentle hand

The beauty
In the bosom that fed you
And kept you when you were alone

The hands that cradled your face
And wiped away the pains
From the fluorescent halls

The beauty
Of the eyes
That may never know, but may always try

O!
And the wonderful beauty
Of the lips

The curve so wonderfully
That fill and swell
That fade every rose

And every memory
Of every rose
May we never forget the beauty

May the stigma be lifted
I feel no jacket
No heckler constraint

Why must you gaze
At one beauty
And claim it has value over another?

Beauty is intrinsic
You are beautiful
And poetry is only beautiful because you (you, dear reader) read it

Beauty is born
When you are born
But it does not die

It can not be cheapened
By man, for man
Has only the capacity to fortify beauty!

Everything is beauty!
The ships in the harbor and the cars on the lane
The animals in the skies and the oceans

The machines and the screens
And you and me
Especially you

Worship the body
Worship the mind
And worship the beauty

That you yourself birthed
And conceived
And love

August 26, 2014
Auckland, New Zealand