Philosophers speak of truth and beauty in the same sentence.
The only connection I see is that neither can be seized tightly.
Beauty blanches or crumples under the force of a tight fist,
and any truth that flies from a tender grip isn't so true as you'd like it to be.
Sometimes, the truth is ugly.
Sometimes, beauty is a lie.
Hell, sometimes the truth is a lie and a lie is true,
and often times a beauty is ugly & ugliness is beautiful.
This entry was posted in Philosophy, poem, Poetry and tagged Beauty, Philosophy, poem, poetry, Truth by B Gourley. Bookmark the permalink.
