Beauty is truth

beauty is truth                           truth beauty

so said Keats

 

as his eyes rested on a Grecian urn

his words became engraved on our minds

inspiring generations of men

who devoted their lives to leaving behind a poem or taking science forward by a single step

now

after generations of horror and disgust

of seeing more clearly as we go along

that the world we live in
has nothing at all to do with a Grecian urn
whose ideal purity
                           from this distance seems

but the pale skeleton of alien memory

having added a new term to the equation suggested by scientific method existence       equals      truth     equals      beauty

it has been some time now since we find
beauty in garbage
                   in cars                in advertising

in monstrous gray apartment buildings

in ruins

in the mechanism of the stock exchange

in cruelty

and hate

in everything whose existence we cannot deny

 yes

beauty surrounds us       man       is surrounded by
a terrible beauty
                       that lies in wait

ready to pounce on him before it       man

is an uncertain       shaken      animal beautiful too

truth beauty . . .?                      beauty truth . . . ?

 

we'll have to think it over again