"Truth is beauty,
beauty truth,"
so someone said,
I can't remember who
It's a crazy thing,
If it's true I'm not sure
But it's beautiful
And I don't ask for more

As I go through life I find
I'm drawn to beauty of a certain kind
The years drift by, this doesn't change
I love the beautiful and strange
Strange beauty, yes –
it makes me feel
in contact with the truly real
Lifted outside the everyday
into a charming world where devil-angels play
and dance to polyphonic beats
and songs with minor chords replete

Strange beauty of a melody
that's off, then on, and then off key
Strange beauty of an acid trip
that allows you between selves to slip
Strange beauty of your lovely face,
its happy grief and awkward grace
Strange beauty of a love affair
that never quite can be repaired
but goes on twisting, weaving, winding
always strange new beauties finding
Strange beauty of computer code
as it loses itself, shrinks and grows
Strange beauty of the big-brained beast
which seems on its own pain to feast
and values most what loves it least

Strange beauty of strange lines like these
That try, but fail, strange truth to seize

Strange beauty of the girl I see
in the center of my mind
Sitting on a curbside nearly naked
Staring at the sky as if to find
a joy once lost
or a sorrow
grown restless and flown away
Long brown hair unmoved by the wind
Why I love her,
I can't say

Strange beauty of imagining
the world as it can't be
Inviting others into one's
illusion – come with me!

Strange beauty of each human life
that, passionate, extends
to grasp it all and taste it all
then, helpless, simply ends