Being a pretty girl is a task
Watching the scumbers worship you
the wretched liars whisper on
the ones who make promises they
never intended to keep
oh, and the jealous sisters who spread rumors; one
even said her uncle’s uncle is my lover, and
my mother bethroted me twelve times!!!
The battle of beauty is the battle of no-one
the circle of vanity and Illustrations, and satisfaction
that’s all the world sees and believes
blinded to the truth, covered with masked conceptions
the ones you ought to love, you despise
they got all the love they need, you say!
they got nothing I tell you, only slanderous words
and killer eyes to crack the radiance of their youth
neglecting the wounds she hides to heal
If indeed the beautiful ones are not yet born
I fear for the war that awaits their thrown…
RUTH BRODRICK 2016
She stayed glued to him
for a thousand years,
yearning for his heart beat
or the helpless breath of awake,
yet he denied her loyalty
and spat on the love she offered,
mocking the tales of Ivory Cast;
the epitome of a fine skinned woman
with the prudence of half an angel.
He said to her, I know thee as beautiful
dauntless like a sapphire, you truly are,
with eyes sparkling tenderness
and lips tearing down denial
but to me, you are nothing.
Weak men see the plastered deceit
but I see the falsity of thy love
and I hear the voices that roam say,
“do not look too deep,at a beautiful woman
for her eyes carry the tempt
that will murder you to insanity”.
If beauty was my choice dear Ivory,
you will be my queen for all thy life,
but nay, beauty is the wrinkle of the skin
and character, the beauty of the face.
See now my dear, that you are nothing?
Your beauty is nothing but dust…
©2015. Ruth Brodrick
Did they not tell you I’m beautiful?
Too beautiful that none can compare?
Yes, I can’t be compared to another
Because I am me
A spectacular human made with sparkles
I glow under the thickness of the night
Do you know why I glow?
It’s simple, my beauty is inborn
It connects with my soul, I have a fine soul
The type of soul that is meek and calm
Then it reflects through my skin
Making you wonder why you can’t get enough of me.
I may not have the best set of eyes,
Or the sexiest of lips, nor pointed nose
My legs are too thin,
That even mini skirts reject it
I don’t have the best figure
To show under the body-cons
But guess what? It’s not what you think
I’m more beautiful than your judgements
I am me and not your opinion
My beauty is not limited to flaws
It wears the perfection that you do not see
I don’t blame you, you are blind
That is why you compare and judge
You lack common sense
To tell the different variants of beauty
Look closely now,
I am the beauty you never saw…
Copyright© 2015. Ruth Brodrick
<a href="http://Grand Slam“>
🔸Belted beyond the face; lies beauty.
🔸Love in beauty defeats hate’s guts.
🔸Beauty is hampered in self-confidence.
🔸What is beauty, isn’t always perfection.
🔸Beauty is ugly when character fails.
🔸Riots of beauty began with men.
🔸True love: the beauty of living.
🔸Mortality mocks the beauty of humanity.
🔸The beauty of good women speaks.
🔸Unity in worlds: beauty is us.
My favorite quote about beauty is
“beauty is being the best possible version of yourself, inside and out”
This is an open writing challenge for all my guests and followers. It’s exciting and innovative. Can’t wait to see what y’all do with beauty in ten sentences..
Your sister hates me
she curses my curvy and short figure
she says I took her good features during creation
or that I came from the ocean floor of hell
now she gossips me with her broom-stick sisters
and stares at me with eyes of arrows
when I walk, I wiggle; my heavenly endowment
when she walks, she bends: too much hormones
when her suitors see me, they stare at me head to toe
but they only look at her lagoon face
even your mother wishes she had buttocks
so suitors can bring money
that she will use to train you in school
I see that I have become an idol for her fantasies
but it’s not my fault she resembles the riot of hell
but why is she jealous
she wears foundation and designs her face; I do not
she wears long beaded ear rings; my ears are not pierced
she wears short skirts; I wear long gowns
my natural beauty overshadows her playground face
when we walk down the road together
heads turn to me and she becomes my shadow
she hates me even more now
but I look at her and wish I was tall
or that I had her hormones
that feature; she stole from me during creation
and I hate her for that
By Ruth Brodrick. All rights reserved ©, this prose poem should not be used or shared without the author’s permission…