Ugly is beautiful, ugly is under the pretty skin and colors we wear.

When one thinks of art and the beauty of words it must always sound nice, it must follow and follow traditional laws of language;
**** that.

Art is an expression of self and soul is it not?
Humans don’t all have beauty in them, humans don’t always have some wonderful soul or righteous heart, so why should all art show the beauty of life?

Why not mock the beauty? Why not admit that sometimes we’re ugly, sometimes we’re crass, cold and vile?
Are we not all we are? Do our life experiences not shape and make us?

Life is not perfect and we all have pitfalls, everyone is flawed yet when it comes to art we deny the fact and mask it by saying “art reflects the tragedy” or “I use art to express my pain” and in that way, we make it romantic, but what if, we just showed it as it is.
What if we just said exactly what we’re feeling, what we’re thinking, what we want?

Must we use the beauty of words and paint and rock to hide our shame, or fear, to mask our greed and lust?
Sometimes people aren’t pretty, sometimes they have no soul, so what if some art was ugly?

What if I didn’t use proper words or language
Or started to; break up words by what-ever means I saw fit for the piece?

It would confuse, it would anger, it would look bad.
But that would be closer to human than always trying to turn some act of woe into some poetic moment.
For a moment reject the beauty, reject the urge to be clever or pristine, smear some mud across the page, ugly can be beautiful in itself because ugly is just that.

You are not the best, you are not the best looking, the fastest, the strongest, smartest, you do not know everything- so it would make sense that art at times should be flawed, that art should be ugly and broken, that art should offend you at times.
There is a humbleness to be found in ugly art, in art that is raw and exposed.
Once you take away the fluff that people are attracted to, once you strip her down and expose what she is, you may find that while some art is a flawless figure in her **** skin- other art may be torn, ripped and festering with disease but she’s not hiding anything in that moment- and on top of that. She doesn’t care.
Why should every poem sound nice?
Why should art have rules and laws?

Of course, we must have laws and standards, of course we must have laws and rules HOWEVER in times and for somethings- breaking that mold, stepping outside of the box, that is needed.
I say ugly art hides nothing and shows everything, pure surface value with no hidden meaning or deeper philosophy, which won’t do for some people.

Some people will rip art apart to understand its meaning refusing to believe in face value because they can’t understand the face value of ugly, they have to have something pretty, they have to have something clever or witty or something they can cling to as being elite as if that somehow places them above the social stature at which they reside.

Trust in ugly art, trust in unpoetic words, trust in blemished statues, trust in unpolished raw music, trust in ugly from time to time.

The bells of the cathedral we're standing in,
Seething hate, rage, everything horrid within.
The ritualistic percussion sounds off in my head
As I'm looking right ahead. At you. Right ahead.

You ******* despicable horror of a person.
Have you ever tried doing something nice?
Have you ever considered not being such an idiot?
You have the capacities of a teaspoon,
With the mental awareness of a tiny child,
You little stain of ***** on the couch of life.
You were never wanted and you were never loved.
You couldn't show me one thing that makes you worth it.
You can't prove anything to me, I know you.
You're disgusting, you're worth the hate.
You're nothing to me, you ******* maggot.
No wonder you get degraded and taken advantage of.
No wonder nobody wants you and they just use you.
Continue on your worthless existence, you ******* *****.

As I walk towards the gigantic door I came in...
I see him walk off towards the same door in another world.

The toilet's right next to it yet you still **** in the shower
Your man is at your party but you're still a ******* coward
Your life is flipping burgers yet you still get extra hours
Your boss was your old boyfriend, now your friends are all his plowers

You have nothing to live for, you're no problematic fave
You're taking all you can and in the trash goes what I gave
I stayed with you for long enough, thought you were mine to save
All you had was track marks but I was your ******* slave

You aren't with me anymore and you have nothing in store
You aren't something special, you're a loser, ****** *****
Being a huge enigma's all you got, it's all your lore
I wish I could forget you, I am not you anymore

When Donald Trump gets up to speak, you simply never know.
Will he seem sane or ludicrous? Just which way will he go?
Will he stick to the teleprompter, presidentially,
or rant his way to la-la land, lost in a fantasy?

Will he just share the facts and make his statement strong and clear,
or ramble, lie and shout and spread division, hate and fear?
When needed, he reads from the script, but looks like he's in pain.
He'd rather spout what's in his head, no matter how insane.

So when we all see ****** Trump, it's plain to see the fact,
that Presidential Trump is just an unconvincing act!