In the eye of the beholder

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Can never be described...
Only defined.
Too often is condemned
To live on the surface,
And in murky pools
In the eyes of the shallow.

Wishes, longs, aches,
Yearns to be understood,
To be traced
Through pinholes
From which it splays it leaves in a subject,
Traced down to it's stem
To it's roots
And then, somehow,
The shoots are apreciated.

Some are blind
To the delicate spieces
That sway beneath the tall grasses.
Others take time,
Others examine.
Others endeavour to notice
Every
Intricate
Stem.

It's always there -
Ever present
like wild flowers.
Those claiming a quick fix or
A tubed,
A packaged,
A potted beauty...
Lied -
Shied away from the truth
or never really realised it was there.
- As plucked flowers will whither,
Waste away...
In the water of the vase
and the wild ones will replenish,
regrow forever
to embroider the
indescribable beauty
of the many-coloured meadow.
Last edited by Charliebo on Sun May 04, 2008 6:34 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Those who dance are considered insane by those who cannot hear the music.
-- George Carlin




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This is a really nice poem. I particularly like the comparison you have going here, of human beauty to the beauty of flowers (at least that's how I interpreted it.)

One thing I would fix:
And in shallow pools in the eyes
Of the shallow.

Perhaps change 'Of the shallow' to 'Of the superficial', the repetition doesn't really flow and kind of stalls that stanza. A thesaurus is useful for finding words similar in meaning.
Getting what you want is just as difficult as not getting what you want. Because then you have to figure out what to do with it instead of figuring out what to do without it.
- The Realm of Possibility




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At first I wasn't into this poem as it starts with a weak hook, but then it blossomed, pardon the pun into a wonderous imagery poem. I'm trying to think why I hate the start so much. It seems to be your trying to begin by a definition which is sorely uneeded:

Beauty:
Overused, yet under-rated.
Misread.
Can never be described...
Only defined.
Confined, condemned
To live on the surface,
And in shallow pools in the eyes
Of the shallow.


You should get rid of it. It only tugs the greatness of this down.

I recommend you proof-read this throughly as you're missing some puctuation in some places.

Other than the first stanza I love it.

Overall: Scrap first stanza add in punctution and you have an amazing poem. Very well written and a great idea.

Good luck
VSN
We get off to the rhythm of the trigger and destruction. Fallujah to New Orleans with impunity to kill. We are the hidden fist of the free market.
We are the ink, we are the quill.
[The Ink And The Quill (Be Afraid) - Anti-Flag]




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Thanks a bunch - very constructive, though i'm afraid i haven't decided to scrap the entire first stanza; i'm too atatched to it!
However, i really apreciate your comments and hope the newly edited version is more gramatically and poetically correct!

^^
Those who dance are considered insane by those who cannot hear the music.
-- George Carlin



the day belongs to expectations but the night belongs to me
— canopy