Poems ✍️

Who can forget- if and when you’ve seen him -
that student whose whole face and body language
shout at you the demand,
‘Hate my ugliness! Tell me that I’m right
to hate myself! ’

That man, of whom it’s said
that once a lady saw, as standing right beside him,
golden Apollo alive himself? ..

Who can know what tricks gods play on us;
or who, of humans, devotes their whole life
to play out this charade?
And how deeply does this ‘ugly’ man
believe this to be his own self?

A living human parable perhaps:
here to remind us just how much
we yearn for, know of, that eternal truth
whose face is beauty; is, ourself.