Teaching a child not to step on a caterpillar is as valuable to the child as it is to the caterpillar.
quote by Bradley Miller
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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(Love) Caterpillar
My love goes to you alone,
Because I know what you can become.
I will be true to you, every minute waking.
You may just be a caterpillar to them
But to me you're a butterfly in the making.
And when you spread those wings of yours,
They'll all look at you, flabbergasted and dumb,
And know why I stuck with you,
A caterpillar that no one knew
To a butterfly where no one knows came from.
poem by K. Jared Hosein
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A caterpillar
the child wanders
how it controls its legs
haiku by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Ambition And The Caterpillar
basically it is the story
of a caterpillar
kicking other cocoons
and hundreds of feet
it takes a lot of hard
work not to see what lies beyond
up there
there is nothing, we know it,
yet why?
why this kicking of asses?
why this
blunder and plunder?
we know that at the end
the caterpillar turns into a
butterfly and
flies away and become gone
from our eyes,
yet where? where is it now?
all we see are broken wings
of dust beneath our dirty feet.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Transformations
THEY Wait
the caterpillar, the flower bud,
time is like a hand that does not compel
them, because by its unnoticeable grace
the process goes on and on
the caterpillar is caressed into a cocoon
in still air
stiller hours
of petals falling one by one
giving way to seeds
existence
the buds have no memories
what to tell
how one morning they all turn
into flowers
then wilt
upon the conquest of
sunset
some things too
have wings that flutter
happily
but only for
a day
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Butterfly Who Can't Get Out of His Cocoon
There was a mother butterfly
Who wished to have a female child
But out of his lain eggs in the meadow
She wasn’t sure if her wish was granted though
Then one baby caterpillar came out
From his broken shell he crawled up
With so much blessings around him
He grew faster and changed his skin
The caterpillar then became a pupa
Hung upside down on a woody plant
He surpassed the strong wind
Through the calamity of life he stays in
The time has come for the pupa
After slowly changing his shape inside
He has to crack his own cocoon
He has to let his wings out soon
But he prefers to stay inside his room
He just made a small hole in his cocoon
Through this he gazed and took a scene
He fears the outside world may not admit him
He noticed his mother butterfly
Patiently waiting outside
She’s very much excited
For her child to come out
Though the young butterfly
Experienced pains and struggles inside
He decided to stay in the cocoon
Than to give his mother a great frustration
How can he get out of his world?
He wanted to hide his true color!
He will ignore the longings of his heart,
His love for the bees than flowers with nectar.
poem by Rose de Ramar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Runaway Child
Runaway Child, don’t have to take it anymore
Runaway Child, just walk out of that door
Runaway Child, no more chances to take
Runaway Child, it’s your choice to make
Runaway Child, aren’t you sick and tired of the pain
Runaway Child, here there’s nothing to gain
Runaway Child, you get treated like dirt
Runaway Child, get away from the hurt
Runaway Child, here it’s no use
Runaway Child, get away from the abuse
Runaway Child, you don’t have 9 lives
Runaway Child, take that step or dive
Runaway Child, why are you still there
Runaway Child, how much pain can you bear
Runaway Child, you don’t have to say goodbye
Runaway Child, say goodbye, when they DIE!
poem by Patrick Harris
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A fable about the bee and the butterfly
Once upon a time
In a warm spring day
The bee flied far away.
It has left it’s shelter
To collect the sweet nectar
From the beautiful flowers
Using God’s dower.
When the bee flied over the field
Alas, it couldn’t see the caterpillar
That crept in the grass.
The caterpillar looked at the bee,
Looked at the sky with yearning,
It also wanted to fly,
Learning the world around
And not to creep on the ground.
Burning with passion, tearfully
The caterpillar said hopefully:
“I love you the bee.
I would agree to do anything
If only I could fly with you.
Don’t tell me adieu!
I haven’t any view from the ground
I just feel to be bound.”
The caterpillar was lost in tears.
Having enough sufferings during the day time
It has fallen into a deep sleep
As there was no more strength to weep.
But when it woke up in the morning chime
It thought it was still a dream time
As it could now fly into the sky,
It turned into a butterfly.
The same morning having seen the butterfly
The bee’s heart melted with joy.
Oh, boy! It was in love at first sight,
Together they would have a wonderful flight.
Now they are flying together
In the fields, in the woods, in the gardens
And their love hardens.
The flowers give them
Their sweet nectar to drink,
There is no troubles to think.
The fable, I’ve told above,
Doesn’t need a question: What is love?
Everyone understands it in his own way.
What else can I say?
This fable was written on the motif of an old French song 'L'Abeille et Papillon' (1956)
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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The Caterpillar
Dangling down its silken thread,
A caterpillar came;
From atop a branch of tree,
After her feeding game.
Little did it think that there,
A leafy twig green stood,
While it began to descend down,
Dancing across the air.
It jumped in fright upwards from where
It attempted to fall;
The leafy branch too followed it,
And formed a bottom wall.
The Caterpillar sensed the leaves,
And found them succulent;
Alighting gently upon it,
It romped home happily!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 4-5-2008
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Old Child
Child. Old child,
No longer wild;
No longer speaking,
No longer beguiled;
I have become
A quiet old child.
Child. Old child,
No longer cold;
Never an old man,
Always too old;
I have become
An old child tenfold.
Child. Old child,
Forever a child;
Always rethinking,
Always exiled.
I should become
A happy old child.
Child. Old child.
Always soft-spoken;
No longer breaking,
Still being broken;
I have become
An old child, unspoken.
Child. Old child,
No longer bold;
By thinking, rethinking
Of stories untold,
All through my childhood,
I've become... old.
poem by Mihai Cosmescu
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Who Will Cry?
Who will cry for the little child who goes for days without food?
Who will cry for the little child who parents beat them?
Who will cry for the little child who is mistreated for being different?
Who will cry for the little child who goes unloved?
Who will cry for the little child whose stomach is swelled up?
Who will cry for the little child who doesn't have clothes to wear?
Who will cry for the little child who is shunned for not being popular?
Who will cry for the little child who is molested every night?
Who will cry for the little child who's parents are not around?
Who will cry for the little child who has to take care of his self?
Who will cry?
Will you cry?
Cause I have.
poem by Natasha Ligons
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Give This Child What She Needs
Give this child what she needs
Love
Give this child what she needs
Shelter
Give this child what she needs
Prayers
Give this child what she needs
Some food and water
Give this child what she needs
Good parents
Give this child what she needs
Good manors
Give this child what she needs
A smoke free home
Give this child what she needs
Peace and happiness
Give this child what she needs
To know God
Give this child what she needs
Your guidance
Give this child what she needs
Clothes
Give this child what she needs
Your support
Give this child what she needs
Some family time
Give this child what she needs
A nice bath every day
Give this child what she needs
Some discipline
Give this child what she needs
A warm bed to sleep on
poem by Aldo Kraas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Monarch
That butterfly I knew.
Pretending to be just a caterpillar...
With nothing else to do.
Crawling upon a branch,
And on leafs I saw it chew.
I watched this masquerade...
And stayed focused on it too!
That butterfly I knew,
Then tried to hide itself...
Inside a cocoon!
That butterfly I knew...
Inside that cocoon grew.
I saw a wing of beauty appear.
With designs of color too!
Did I imagine this in sleep?
Is that caterpillar pulling on me...
Some magical trick or treat?
And then it winked at me and flew away.
As if to say to me in flight...
'I wish I had your time,
With nothing else on my mind...
But to sit and contemplate on ways,
On how to waste my days and life!
I've got things to get done and do.
Do you? '
And this Monarch,
Away flew!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lotus-flowers
Lotus-flowers
Naked I am before The Author of Life
-the child of nature’s birth and death
Imperfect I am before The Great Mind
-the child of passion’s limited to earth
Rebellious I am before The Truth
-the child of desire clothe with pride
Vicious I am before The Law
-the child of deceit and endless lies
Avaricious I am before The Master of All
-the child of corrupt and distorted image of life
Nauseous I am before The Ancient One
-the child of folly, ignorant antagonist
And I am the pilgrim before the God of the Universe
-the ‘you’ and the ‘I’ across time and space
Note:
Inspired by the teaching on “Nirvana”
poem by Jordan Legaspi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Broken child
I see the face of a broken child.
A child who has seen more than his young eyes should.
I see the face of a broken child.
A child who would run away from it all if he could.
I see the face of a broken child.
A child who has been ravished by the likes of you and I.
I see the face of a broken child.
A child with to much pride to cry.
I see the face off a broken child.
a child who fights off anyone who cares.
I see the face of a broken child.
A child who wishes his mother was there.
I see the face of a broken child.
A child who wont let his hardships keep him down.
I see the face of a broken child.
A child who refuses to give up and reveal a frown.
poem by Joshua Reid
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Miracles Of Transformation
place lived in could be
a harsh barren dessert
where sudden sand storm
can strip our life to bone
God hides great serene
beauty in strange places
to teach hope in inspired
miracles of transformation
there is incredible serene beauty written...
into mysterious timeless dessert places...
once a gardener asked God for two gifts:
a beautiful plant with colourful flowers,
and a butterfly to flutter about the flowers,
to add beauty to his small potted garden:
the gardener excited waited for his flowering plant...
the beautiful butterfly he believed God would give...
the gardener prayed for forty days and forty nights:
God observing devotional faith answered his prayer;
presented him with a cactus plant and a caterpillar;
are you surprised because the gardener asked for,
a beautiful plant with amazing colorful flowers,
yet God answered his prayers with a cactus plant?
God knew the needs of the man’s faithful heart:
secrets written into his patient appreciative soul;
the gardener knew the secret ways of dessert life;
for many days the gardener thanked God for this gift,
of sacred life; to add beauty to his small potted garden:
at dawn dust all hours between; the gardener thanked,
God for the wisdom glory of this special gift bestowed:
soon the cacti bloomed with amazing colourful flowers,
and in the place of the caterpillar there was a beautiful,
stunning butterfly, to flutter about the colourful flowers:
God told that gardener old a new spiritual message.
God said “I will send my only begotten son, to be
born as flesh, like the caterpillar I gave you on the
cactus plant, to walk in the world; my man of faith”
God said “My child how you wondered,
what had happened to the caterpillar?
From where did the butterfly come? ”
God said “This mystery of life I wrote into creation”.
“I envisage transformation from your body of clay
into a body of light; as a miracle as meaningful as
the journey of a caterpillar; for my son will pass
through metamorphosis death into resurrected life!
This journey is my undeserved gift for the seed of Adam!
Original Sin will be defeated through this sinless sacrifice;
of my only begotten son; who will defeat the sting of death!
accept this ransom sacrifice my child as reconciliation;
through the blood of my son to resurrection in heaven.”
that gardener old, knew the cactus plant was the cross;
metamorphosis death was the tomb; flowers the message,
blooming in the world, through work of Holy Spirit; who
spread miraculous testament, the butterfly transformation,
resurrection of Jesus Christ; clay into restored body of light:
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Another Conversa Mi Amiga....
i am proud to say, i do not hide my ignorance and lapses 7: 06 AM
but i always hide my eggs 7: 06 AM
Me
h ehehe 7: 06 AM
for fear that it may get burned 7: 07 AM
Me
but 7: 07 AM
it is because uv got confidence 7: 07 AM
ur ignorance is minimal hehehe 7: 07 AM
compared to us 7: 07 AM
confidence is the flower of ignorance 7: 07 AM
Me
so nasa taas gihapon ka 7: 07 AM
safe up there 7: 07 AM
u can still be naked 7: 08 AM
it is cold up there 7: 08 AM
lonelier 7: 08 AM
because there only a few of me here 7: 08 AM
(har har har) 7: 08 AM
'few of me' 7: 08 AM
Me
t ht's confidence hehehe 7: 08 AM
few og u 7: 08 AM
looking down the cliff and asking the ant 7: 08 AM
Me
of u 7: 08 AM
Hey mr. ant what's breakfast? 7: 08 AM
what is the weather down there? 7: 09 AM
and the ant said 7: 09 AM
You worm, why are you up there? 7: 09 AM
you will die when the sun comes up? 7: 09 AM
Me
h ehehehe 7: 09 AM
wow 7: 09 AM
and i said, how dare you call me worm? 7: 09 AM
i am a caterpillar 7: 10 AM
and the ant said: caterpillar is a worm, idiot! 7: 10 AM
Me
h ahahaha 7: 10 AM
and the caterpillar said: watch out when i become a butterfly 7: 10 AM
i will ride the sun 7: 10 AM
Me
s unog 7: 10 AM
and the ant said: try it mr. butterfly, sting like a bee and be 7: 11 AM
that dead boxer of the world 7: 11 AM
Me
n ice story 7: 11 AM
and the worm said: (yucks, this ants knows many things 7: 11 AM
Me
h ahahah 7: 11 AM
how come does he know about muhamad?) 7: 11 AM
Me
h umble ant 7: 11 AM
and the ant said: hey worm, i can hear you? i have feet with ears 7: 12 AM
Me
b ecause the ant is grounded hehehe 7: 12 AM
she knows and she sees 7: 12 AM
and the worm said: with ears or not, you are still the ant that feed on morsels and dead leaves 7: 12 AM
ant: well, at least i feed myself from honest means 7: 13 AM
worm: i did not say that you are dishonest, and what's honesty got to do with our conversation? 7: 13 AM
Me
h ahaha 7: 13 AM
true 7: 13 AM
ant: (ugma na lang ta maghuman kay magsulat pag balak si alis kweng ka) 7: 14 AM
ha ha 7: 14 AM
nadalahig ka hinoon sa akong ka buang 7: 14 AM
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Monday's Child is Ill
Monday's child is ill, I'm told.
Tuesday's child has caught a cold.
Wednesday's child is down with the flu.
Thursday's child is feeling blue.
Friday's child can't eat any food.
Saturday's child is in a foul mood.
And the child that's born on the seventh day
Is the only child that feels okay.
poem by Bruce Larkin
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In Leaf Fall Learn
give leaf to leaven
busy hungry crawl caterpillar;
free to wander dawn
where it chance may
to spin silken
dream transition one glorious day;
to spin woven
dream seen inspiration as caterpillar
crawl in dust leaf learn
until time to metamorphosis turn;
dreams grounded stay
not earthbound stubborn
aspire to destiny blue cloud heaven
leap in faith learn to freedom fly;
patient be stretch birth beat wings dry
upon breath breeze sing embrace sky
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Caterpillar
Im a caterpillar
Im a caterpillar
Crawling for your love
Crawling for your love
Crawling for your love,
For your love.
Im a butterfly
Im a butterfly
Flying for your love
Flying for your love
Flying for your love,
For your love.
Well, Ill be anything that you want me to be.
Baby, Id even would be a-climbing up your tree.
Im a pterodactyl
Im a pterodactyl
Dying for your love
Dying for your love
Dying for your love
For your love.
Im an abominable snowman
Im an abominable snowman
Calling for your love
Calling for your love
Calling for your love
For your love.
Well now baby, Ill be anything that you want me to be,
Baby, a big monkey, a little monkey, a chimpanzee.
Oh now,
Im a caterpillar
Im a caterpillar
Falling for your love
Falling for your love
Falling for your love
For your love.
Oh baby,
Falling for your love
Falling for your love
Falling for your love
For your love.
Falling for your love
Falling for your love
Falling for your love
For your love.
song performed by by Janis Joplin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Every Child!
the faces of...
every child who'll
go to bed hungry tonite...
every child afraid to sleep
for fear of the soldiers,
the bullets, the bombs....
every child abused
by his parents...
every child humiliated
for being different.
every child who's never
known his own father...
every child with no hope
for an education...
every child sleeping
in homeless cars.
every child alone,
lonely, without love.
every child of every broken home,
every child, every color, every country...
staring at me this sleepless night,
tearing at my heart...
all my children!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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