The beauty of rust is not in its color
and not in the the view of
the horizon left free and unharmed.
The beauty of rust is not
in its nearness to soil,
it’s not in the lushness it feeds
to the battlefield grass
The beauty of rust lies in the waste
of a gun carriage — left
by the Germans retiring from Norway,
The beauty of rust is the silence
of iron tongued menace,
of boots left unpolished
of seaweed and men going home
The beauty of rust is what it’s not.
A rusting Gun Carriage on the Norwegian coast
Today Mish prompts us to write about beauty in what’s ugly at dVerse. I cannot say that rusting machinery is beautiful even in a gorgeous setting, but knowing what it is makes it a true beauty.
Also linking to the Tuesday platform at toads
—
October 16, 2018
Björn Rudbergs writings 
That’s very satisfying. I like the look underneath what is obvious on the surface, to dig out the meaning that lies there.
Now that is good. Rust as a philosophical point.
A via negativa that leads to these incredible lines:
‘The beauty of rust is the silence
of iron tongued menace,
of boots left unpolished
of seaweed and men going home’
Via negative works well to find beauty in what’s ugly…
Nice last line.
Many things are better off rusted back to dirt. I like this treatment.
I like your rust Bjorn. Guns rusting is indeed a beautiful image.
“The beauty of rust is what it’s not.” Brilliant, Björn, seriously brilliant. It’s such a powerful sentiment and you’ve succeeded in making me see rust in a new, beautiful way!
Beautiful poem, the beauty of rust, it not so much, but what it is nt.
Bjorn thank you for your comment on my post.
Wow this has a powerful message Bjorn, yet it is said with a gentle beauty as only a poet could do. I love it!
This is wonderful, Bjorn. The negatives add up to the positive….the absence of the weaponry’s ability to anhilate, the empty shoes of the men gone home from war … and sadly too, I think of the rust and mold on the old tombstones. The beauty of rust is what it’s not. I really enjoyed this one!
A good flow to this. I see the beauty in what rust is not- ironically!
What a powerful write Bjorn.
I love specially the last verse:
The beauty of rust is the silence
of iron tongued menace,
of boots left unpolished
of seaweed and men going home
sometimes the power is in what remains – not for the object itself, which sometimes becomes more empty-for-full waste, – but rather, for the strength of the endings, which are actually beginnings and life sparking back into itself.
I really like how you’ve taken all of this, and these ideas, and chosen to use it, the colour rust – which carries so many connotations, and breathed a new life from the dried blood and fields – and specifically direct us to remember – the ones who, often, we do forget – the ones who were spared ….
great poeming Bjorn
“is what is not”
That’s such a good point at which to ponder remains.
Trending back to history and what it has left us
much love…
you made me see the beauty in what rust can become and leave as a legacy – like even time cannot erode its beauty in fact enhance it
Such interesting thoughts — “the beauty of rust is what it’s not”: it is such a thought-provoking line. I like how you feature different rusted surfaces denoting different scenarios that may be construed as beautiful in their own right. The use of negation in the first two stanzas is so well done.
I have always found rust rather beautiful because it has a certain nostalgia attached to it — it signifies to me the passing of time — the thought of old iron bars and gates, keyrings, locks, et al. make me smile.
Very well-penned, Bjorn! 🙂
What an insightful write! The last line is a clincher. Bravo
This is such a thoughtful write. The last line is a clincher. Bravo!
Beautiful rust indeed. Love it.
So insightful. Your work is always impressive.
Forgive my 3 comments! The cybergremlins have been busy apparently. Each time it told me my comment was refused, until suddenly all 3 appeared! . Mutter, mutter, swear, swear ……
A poet’s perspective – well done, Björn.
Very good! Where there is rust there is peace! Men going home alive!!
Love this one Bjorn… !
Beautiful poem. The thought that the only red decorating the landscape will be dropped weaponry and no longer spilled blood is one to salute.
This demanded my attention with the repetition and seriously should with it’s theme. I also loved the idea of beauty lying in what “is not”.
The beauty of rust is the silence
of iron tongued menace,
of boots left unpolished
of seaweed and men going home.
How you breathe life to this rather non living thing. Amazing, Bjorn!
kaykuala
Rust like an old jalopy has that certain attraction to make it ‘beautiful’. No wonder vintage cars are more expensive and appreciating in value!
Great subject Bjorn!
Hank
Oh this is just such a wonderful poem. The tone is immaculate.. you hold the reader in suspense, and the reveal carries intense weight.
Yes!
This is so lovely Bjorn…love the last line, ‘beauty of rust is what it is not’.
Knowing that weapons are rusting is definitely a beautiful thought.
The beauty of instruments of violence left behind, and how their rusty fall into ruin brings forth that greater beauty through that growing ugliness. Deep thoughts, so well expressed!
I read your poem and was so intrigued. Thank you for leaving the photo until the end. It was perfect that way. 🙂
Such a beautiful poem, Björn!
Very nice, Bjorn. What you saw no one saw in this rusting old piece until you told us. There is at least one true story behind every rusting hunk and many more that could be imagined. Some we won’t ever know the true.
..
I like that. “The beauty of rust is what it’s not.”
Excellent, rust the sign of age and life….feeling a little rusty myself.
Especially like this verse…The beauty of rust lies in the waste
of a gun carriage — left
by the Germans retiring from Norway,
A good one
Pat