Wisdom of Wounds

 

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The innocence of beauty
and the wisdom of wounds
can be a powerful combination
when harmoniously balanced.
Yet beauty’s teaching will always be
inferior to the wisdom of wounds.
Beauty is fleeting.
The wisdom of wounds endures.
The wise learn from their wounds:
yet fools see the same wound multiply,
since wounds, untreated,
expand.

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However, only a masochist seeks pain.
Like a society worshipping youth
and beauty above experience and wisdom
forever doomed to repeat
its self-inflicted wounds.
How many of tomorrow’s pains
could we be spared if we’d only
learn from the wounds of today?
There truly is…
wisdom in wounds.

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[Another contribution from JW: art and words.]

The human condition

 

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The human condition is far from perfect,
and yet there’s still no greater beauty.
In fact, the closest we can get to perfection
is in overcoming our imperfections,
while overlooking those of others.
Though it is true, imperfections, like beauty,
are in the eye of the beholder.
Nothing can be done to alter that fact.
A person cannot be forced to view others
through more compassionate eyes
in order to see the true beauty.
It’s their God-given right to be a fool.
Needless to say,
it is wiser to be true to oneself…
scars and all.
Heed not those who habitually point out
the imperfections of others, as they
simultaneously, though ignorantly,
spotlight their own.
Those who confess no imperfections shine a
beacon on that which they confess.
To judge without knowing is like intelligence
without common sense, it’s nonsense.
How one responds to imperfections, one’s own
or others, is a great indicator to
individual self-worth.
Therefore, sex appeal isn’t what others see in you,
it’s what you see in yourself.

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Love can always look beyond imperfections
to find the beauty.
Always.
Including a healthy love of self.
A proper course of action:
cease dwelling on imperfections.
The cost is too great.
Everything of substance is forfeited in the process.
Imperfection is a part of life,
deal with it and move on.
You’re perfectly imperfect just as you are.
And if you show me anyone without a blemish
I’ll show you someone to avoid when
the shit hits the fan.
Part of the grand design is that humans can
overcome imperfections, individually and
collectively, proving miracles still happen.
Which does not imply all such miracles include
a transformation from
imperfection to perfection.
Nor does it imply mere acceptance.
Humans conquer their imperfections by not
allowing the obstacle control over their lives:
keeping them from their desires.
Individuality, confidence, peace of mind:
Living with imperfections.
Never allowing imperfections to hinder
living to the fullest.

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[Another contribution from JW: both art and writing.]

 

The True Perfection

[Another contribution from JW: both art and poetry.]

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The true perfection of humanity,
in a sense,
lies within our imperfections.
And vice-versa:
Beauty can be an imperfection.
Doubtless, not the common-thread
we would’ve selected
for ourselves.
Yet a bond, never-the-less,
binding us together.
Humans are equally yoked
in imperfection.
Alas, perfection is merely a state
of mind: often misconceived.
Humanity is a state of being:
a state where we each reside.
Neighbors.
Who then, when equally yoked,
has the right to condemn?
Yes, beauty has its appeal,
but it’s still a façade.
After all, today’s beauty
is tomorrow’s has been;
like today’s wannabe
is tomorrow’s never was.
Attempting to uplift oneself
by degrading another,
especially when unable to prove
one’s own perfection, is, sadly,
more than a waste of breath.
It’s a prevailing symptom
of an epidemic.
An ever-increasing pastime…
An ill-inspired comedy of errors…
With but one fate…
a Greek tragedy.

Fashionable or not

[Another contribution by JW: poetry and art.]

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Fashionable or not,
faith in beauty remains as fickle
as the ever-changing fads it inspires.
After all, fashion is merely another persons
opinion of how you should look or act.
Find what makes you happy
and ditch the rest.
Outside or inside,
if your reflection isn’t perfection
you’ve got no right to judge.
And what good is a high IQ
to anyone dumb enough to judge others
by the way they look?
Condemnation of another person’s
imperfections has always been
a sign of simpletons,
no matter how richly they’re adorned.
To those unable to see the beauty here,
come back when you mature.
To iterate; it’s overlooking imperfections
which draws us closer to perfection.
Especially since no one honestly relates
to Madison Avenue:
scars are the “Real Thing”.
Our differences make us special: unique.
Not our similarities, but our differences
which perfectly distinguish us.
Hate me for my differences
and you hate yourself.
Condemn me for my imperfections
and you condemn yourself.
Only by accepting me
can you truly accept yourself

 

Comfort Zone

She loved Him deep and true

before she ever knew

D/s was a journey she would travel.

 

Ill-thoughts soon did arise

fearing He may soon despise

when her self-image doubts did unravel.

 

She knew most men like to look

and her Dom practically wrote the book

visually stimulated: artist with an artist’s eye.

 

How disconcerting this concern

she even hoped He would discern

her awful embarrassment and why.

 

Instead, He claimed He’d explore every inch

so she felt it would be a cinch

to die from shame right on the spot.

 

At the time she did not know

when thinking He might be a so-and-so

He’s the best catch she could ever have caught.

 

Took her thighs and spread them wide

nowhere to run, nowhere to hide;

He only gazed with love, never with lies.

 

Every inch He did explore

body and heart, to her very core,

till she saw herself through His eyes.

 

He knew when taking her from her comfort zone

she’d learn she was no longer alone

free to be she: safe and protected.

 

With a D/s relationship founded

with unconditional love and grounded

greatly enhanced and forever connected.

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