Poetry Blogs (butterflies)

These days I feel a kinship with the four white walls,
Which guard my every move, every breath, every thought.
Observe how they close in on me, irked, distraught-
They make the world look small.
I speak to them in unfinished puzzles,
And superficial metaphors,
And subdued gurgles,
And defeated murmurs.
My words are nothing but a brook,
Whose melancholic babbles fill the chilly air.
They ...

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The wings of Butterflies
and Human eyes, of these I get
Poetic highs

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Poem of transformation...

The butterfly in the morning sun flutters with grace until his day is done
He's in and out of the beautiful flowers
To the music of the birds he dances for hours
Blissfully aware of his own handsome features
He's the envy of all the other garden creatures
Making the most of his time in the air
Embracing his life as if not a care
Made up of colour and symmetrical p...

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On the surface lies a smile,
A sparkle in one’s eye.
The feeling that in their company
Time just rushes by.

A little deeper and you’ll find
Butterflies a swarming
Concentration disappears
But thoughts of them are warming

Deeper still into one’s bones
A yearning and an ache,
A drug-like dependency
One simply can’t forsake.

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At the end of the garden,by the big old oak

Hidden away from inquisitve eyes,

Is a dwelling place for the little folk

usually mistaken for butterflies!

The flowers grow higher, the grass much more sweet,

a soft green carpet under your feet.

It's easy to miss them, not clearly in sight,

the time they enjoy most, is quite late at night!

You see, they are cautious, and da...

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I was sitting on the wall at Homecoming 
Just counting down the time until the dance was over
Until something caught the corner of my eye.

A sweet little thing in a pretty pink dress 
Her glow like the moon at night 
And her hair smelled like rain on a sunny day.

Her eyes made contact with mine 
I felt my stomach turn into butterflies
Is this really happening?

Still frozen from her poison...

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State Wards are funny creatures

flittering winglessly from place to place

showing their colours to very few

and then only in hope of finding love

   all the while needing compassion

   like butterflies need leaves to land on

More happened in care that out

more pain and heartache suffered

than those who handled us could know

Counselors and Matrons

Ordering us

   reg...

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I met a woman at the Blue Nile.

Our first encounter was her attempting to kiss my face. She seems to be in her mid-late fifties/early sixties. She began to tell me that she is okay, over and over again. She began to cry. She told  me her sun died. He OD'ed at 39 years old. She watched him die, with his head between the toilet and the sink. Her other sun blamed his brother's death on her. Sh...

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