by Rieuxian

Hey Hubski, I'm one of the new refugees, so let me know if I'm breaking any customs here by just straight posting my poetry. Also, sorry in advance if there's weird punctuation/line breaks. This is meant to be spoken word, so I don't usually worry too much about it.

Triumph of the Hideous

I'm sick and tired of

The proclamations

Of everyone is beautiful

That seem so ubiquitous these days

An understandable reaction

To the required radiance

Of modern lives

We seem to believe that because

of this,

We have to be beautiful

Even if we're not

Like that's the only defining

Characteristic

Of a human being

I'll tell you right now

If you go on for days

About how you're

Beautiful no matter

Your shape

Or height

Or whatever

You're probably ugly.

And that's a good thing.

I've forgotten a thousand pretty faces,

But never an ugly one.

Pretty faces are,

By and large,

The same.

Nice, symmetrical features

Rounded eyes

Blooming cheeks

The only variance

A dimple or two,

But ugly faces?

Ugly faces are unique.

Memorable.

One might have a nose three times too large

Another eyes the size of dimes,

Or pupils the size of quarters,

Every single ugly face

Has its own

Imprint

Upon the world.

Something

That sticks out from the sea.

Of Nose jobs

And toned figures

In the age of plastic surgery

And fad diets

Hideousness

Is a triumph.

A bold declaration

That we refuse

To be ruled

By aesthetics

That we won't

Be ashamed

Of our draw

in the genetic lottery

Hideousness

Is character

Unsmoothed

by the gentle shores

Of an easy life

We jaggedly declare

That we have lived

The scar running down the Side of your face

Tells a story the same

as your not-quite straight nose

The story that you

Did something

Were something

And continue to be

And in it's own way

Ugliness is beautiful.

Beauty is no more

Than that which we

Are unwilling

Or unable

To look away from.

And I've seen hundreds

Turn and walk away

From a Van Gogh

But I've never

Seen someone

Look away

From a

Train wreck.

And of course

There's a certain

Advantage

Afforded

To the aesthetically challenged,

We have never been able to get

By on looks we don't have

So, while they

Were drinking for free

And partaking in redundant small talk

We

Were reading books they've never heard of

Contemplating thoughts they'll never have

And cultivating hobbies they can't pronounce

Beauty

Affords you the opportunity to be uninteresting

If someone talks to you

They'll listen to you blather about

Your new poodle for twenty minutes

Off of nothing but the simple hope

Of touching your “perfection”

Whereas we

Have that three seconds of recoil

To intrigue them with something

They've never heard

Before they run flat-footed out of the room

While not every beautiful person is boring

The gross

And the downtrodden

Are endlessly full of wisdom

Found in the darkest corners of parties

And farthest bar stool from the door.

And never forget

You will only be ugly

To 99% of the people you will ever meet

Eventually,

We all find someone who sees

Constellations in our acne scars

Who hears symphonies in our

Speech impediments

Who takes solace

In the warmth

Of our beer guts

And you will wonder

At why beauty beholds you

While they wonder

If they can keep up.

So hear me now

We refuse to be defined

By enchantments we don't have

We refuse to try to twist

Your moniker to fit ourselves

We are not beautiful.

We are individual

We are interesting

We are ugly

And goddammit

If we're not proud of that.