It's those ugly caterpillars that turn into beautiful butterflies after seasons.
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imitating Jack Prelutsky's Last Night I Dreamed of Chickens
last night i dreamed of caterpillars
there were caterpillars everywhere
they were crawling in my stomach
they were eating leave in my hair
they were munching at my pillow
they were circling on my head
they were cleaning up their mouths
as they spin silk in my bed
they were on the chairs and table
they were climbing the chandeliers
they were making cocoons in the corners
they were linking in my ears
there were caterpillars, caterpillar, caterpillars
for as far as i could see...
when i woke up today, i noticed,
there were butterflies on top of me
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Forever Tomorrow
beautiful yet ugly
the jellyfish stings until you die
ugly animals turn adorable
beautiful peace,
turns to dreadful hell
clean is made dirty
growing up is faster then ever here
sugar drops float and swim
molecules rush through the water
ugly old gray man monsters come to pray
life is just a hope
because the ribbons are here
ugly strings filled with beautiful nets
and the puffy disgusting mushroom looking things lurk too near us
beautiful and gorgeous when combined,
but ugly, deadly and disgusting when alone
poem by Lola Smith
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Butterflies For Breakfast? (Life Poem)
Butterflies before you sit the final exam,
Butterflies before you go for a job interview,
Butterflies before you ask her out on a date,
Butterflies before you kiss her for the first time,
Butterflies before you propose two will be one,
Butterflies before you meet her family,
Butterflies before you see her all in white,
Butterflies before you make that big speech,
Butterflies before you see that your baby is OK,
Butterflies before you get news from the doctor,
Butterflies before you lose your job again,
Butterflies before you face any little crisis,
But -
No butterflies for breakfast.
poem by Ian Beckett
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I Remember The Caterpillar
t'was a story told
when i was young
the moth that circled
the fire of the lamp
he gets burned
the daedelus on the
wings of wax
he flew too high
and the sun melted
his wings and to
the sea he drowns
the caterpillar that
struggled to the top
kicking other
caterpillars along
the way only to
find that there is
nothing at the top
that on the other
side are mountains
of caterpillars that
never knew that
they are all destined
to fly and be some
colorful butterflies
it amazes me
it still amazes me
how can i not
easily understand
my own destiny
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Beautiful and Ugly
In my eyes all I see
are beautiful
In their eyes all they see
is an ignorant girl
I have no idea that there
are also ugly
But they weren't; at first I
thought of them as strange.
Isn't it that right is beautiful
Isn't that wrong is ugly.
But now the Ugly is Beautiful
and the Beautiful is Ugly.
And I almost forgot that
Everybody has grown up.
In my eyes all I see
are beautiful
But in their eyes all they saw
was an ignorant girl
I have no idea that there
were also ugly
When I did they say,
'It was beautiful! '
But it isn't, I guess.
I think this world is strange.
poem by Mary Jesusa Villegas
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Beware My Son
Not all know what waiting is all about.
Not all flowers bloom and understand
what buds are.
Not all rivers flow and know where the sea is.
Not every event knows the wisdom of destiny.
Beware my son, there is not much of us left
we who have read the lines of our palms
and understand the movement of the stars
we who respect the change of the seasons
and understand the reasons for changes
and transformations
not all caterpillars know about butterflies
beware my son
beginnings are there because
there is always an end, and always remember
my son,
the glory and the gladness that is promised
beyond us.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Not All
Not all know what waiting is all about.
Not all flowers bloom and understand
what buds are.
Not all rivers flow and know where the sea is.
Not every event knows the wisdom of destiny.
Beware my son, there is not much of us left
we who have read the lines of our palms
and understand the movement of the stars
we who respect the change of the seasons
and understand the reasons for changes
and transformations
not all caterpillars know about butterflies
beware my son
beginnings are there because
there is always an end, and always remember
my son,
the glory and the gladness that is promised
beyond us.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Butterflies forget that they were once caterpillars.
Beware
beware, my son,
not all species are all like us.
not all creatures have learned to pray and be patient.
Not all know what waiting is all about.
Not all flowers bloom and understand
what buds are.
Not all rivers flow and know where the sea is.
Not every event knows the wisdom of destiny.
Beware my son, there is not much of us left
we who have read the lines of our palms
and understand the movement of the stars
we who respect the change of the seasons
and understand the reasons for changes
and transformations
not all caterpillars know about butterflies
beware my son
beginnings are there because
there is always an end, and always remember
my son,
the glory and the gladness that is promised
beyond us.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Everyone is like a butterfly, they start out ugly and awkward and then morph into beautiful graceful butterflies that everyone loves.
quote by Drew Barrymore
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Whats The Use Of A Title?
They don't make it
the beautiful die in flame-
suicide pills, rat poison, rope what-
ever...
they rip their arms off,
throw themselves out of windows,
they pull their eyes out of the sockets,
reject love
reject hate
reject, reject.
they don't make it
the beautiful can't endure,
they are butterflies
they are doves
they are sparrows,
they don't make it.
one tall shot of flame
while the old men play checkers in the park
one flame, one good flame
while the old men play checkers in the park
in the sun.
the beautiful are found in the edge of a room
crumpled into spiders and needles and silence
and we can never understand why they
left, they were so
beautiful.
they don't make it,
the beautiful die young
and leave the ugly to their ugly lives.
lovely and brilliant: life and suicide and death
as the old men play checkers in the sun
in the park.
Anonymous submission.
poem by Charles Bukowski
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Beautiful Girl
your so beautiful i can see it
can you become ugly and make me
beautiful your so beautiful
put your make up and dance in fancy clothes.
make yourself beautiful
and me ugly
you are always nice to me
and i am bad
make me ugly and yourself beautiful
poem by Ramya Iyer
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You Are Wrong
you are wrong.
you were never ugly.
you are not ugly.
you are beautiful
as ever as anyone
can be. who can be
so ugly with us?
tell me, what is
it that makes
them
only
beautiful.
who cannot be
beautiful as
us?
who can ever
be ugly
when we
are in love?
no you are
wrong
you are not ugly.
it is only him
who thinks
so. I love you.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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And So They Have Again Teased The Ugly Duckling
having forgotten the story
of the ugly duckling
here we are again retelling
it to children, that once
there was this ugly duck
who turned out to be the
most beautiful swan at the
end of the hopeless lines.
that we must stick to the
beautiful self that nature
gives us; it knows the ripe
season for a very beautiful
unfolding; that there is always
a perfect time for everyone.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Ugly
i don't look in the mirror
i don't like what i see staring back at me
everything is clearer
i'll never see what you see
it's not me
so beautiful and free
i'll never be what you need
can't help at all
i was born so beautiful
but now i'm ugly
and i rot in my skin
as a piece of me dies everyday
i know i'm nothing
i know there's nothing i can say
to change
the judgment in their ways
i'll never be what you need
can't help at all
my love was so beautiful
but now i'm ugly
yeah...
i'm good enough
song performed by by Smashing Pumpkins from The Aeroplane Flies High
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Butterflies
Eyes aloft, over dangerous places,
The children follow the butterflies,
And, in the sweat of their upturned faces,
Slash with a net at the empty skies.
So it goes they fall amid brambles,
And sting their toes on the nettle-tops,
Till, after a thousand scratches and scrambles,
They wipe their brows and the hunting stops.
Then to quiet them comes their father
And stills the riot of pain and grief,
Saying, "Little ones, go and gather
Out of my garden a cabbage-leaf.
"You will find on it whorls and clots of
Dull grey eggs that, properly fed,
Turn, by way of the worm, to lots of
Glorious butterflies raised from the dead." . . .
"Heaven is beautiful, Earth is ugly,"
The three-dimensioned preacher saith;
So we must not look where the snail and the slug lie
For Psyche's birth. . . . And that is our death!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Bear ‘today’ for ‘tomorrow’.
Dear Plant, bear with the caterpillar,
Who is, of your tender leaves, the eater.
He will come to you as a butterfly later,
To impregnate your blossomed flowers.
Men are caterpillars;
Men are butterflies too.
12.05.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Ugly Sunset
It wouldn't rise to become the sun
Afraid of shinning it's true beauty
Hiding in the horizon about to cause night
Bringing fear and causing evil to come out
So this once beautiful sunset that was the world to me turned ugly
Look at it! What do you see that is so beautiful about this ugly sunset
Is it how it causes fright to parents
Or how slowly it goes down with everyone's happiness like sucking the life out of you like a black hole
You ugly sunset with your beautiful shades of color and your reflection on the ocean, why are you hiding from beauty? we were once the world me and you but now look at you, your a mess.
Now all you are is one ugly sunset sucking up all the beauty this world has.
So keep hiding in the horizon ugly sunset!
But in the end you'll regret not showing you true beauty.
poem by Celia Hinojosa
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Tomorrow Always Comes
tomorrow always comes.
the sun is confident. always tomorrow
comes with all the usual baggages.
bringing a back pack of your past,
some bags of your future still
bound with the strings of its secrets.
tomorrow always comes. do not deny this
fact, that it always comes with the
people you love and so with all the
people you hurt, and who in turn hurt
you in some ways. It comes with hammers
and nails and ladders and chairs.
Tomorrow always comes and so
do not just stand there and look dumb
and stare and think that today is the
end of your world. The moon knows.
And so are the stars that tomorrow
always comes with baggages.
Help yourself. Face them. Embrace
the day. Love the people who love you.
Love too those that do not love you.
Love them. Tomorrow always comes and
who knows that like caterpillars tomorrow
they become these beautiful butterflies
that now seek the comfort of your loving hands.
Believe me. Tomorrow always comes.
Have hope. Relax. And be confident.
Like the sun, the river, the sea. They
all know that tomorrow always comes.
Be happy then. Promise you. Tomorrow comes.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Fins So Beautiful
Where did you come from,
With fins so beautiful...
How did you land up here,
With fins so beautiful...
Beautiful in color,
so beautiful that you share...
Why and how did you come here?
Tell me, where did you come from?
This is a place where you don't belong,
Tell me, where did you come from?
So that I can take you to the place-the place that is your own
This place is dirty-dirty and black
Don't stay here,
Or your fins may turn dark
Go away 'cause you don't belong-here in this sack.
Where did you come from with fins so beautiful?
Why did you come here with fins so beautiful?
Your beautiful-bright fins will turn ugly-dark,
You don't belong here in this sack
Go back to the place that is your own,
'cause this is not where you belong.
poem by Shreeya Dhakal
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