Butterfly Gone
Speak little
Take a pencil
Or a paintbrush
Emancipate the lust
In your left brain
In every bend of the strokes
In every blot of the paint
And outside the canvass
Find the lambaste
Of a butterfly gone
poem by Norman Santos

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Related quotes
Paint body art beautiful
her majesty the hand
with nail graffiti polish
pain in henna red
paint in henna black
paint paint my heart
paint body art faithful
faithful to the strokes
paint in strokes divine
paint in strokes of red
paint in strokes of black
paint paint my heart
poem by Miroslava Odalovic

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My child
I picked up my paintbrush
to capture your face,
pretty eyes, rosebud lips
and a smile to melt ice
and catch the sun.
But were your eyes small
and your hair dull,
if smiles were teardrops
that wiped out the sun
you would still hold my love
for between the paintbrush
and the canvass
there is your gentle soul.
poem by Ruth Walters

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Paint Brush
We forget
We’re humans in disguise
We lust for angels
We lust for demons
We cannot exorcise the human inside.
We paint a layer of lies
No water can wash it off
Human doesn’t let paint spread
In the end humans peel paint off.
Some are left buried
With paint left unpeeled
The paint dries away
But human never dehydrates.
We may paint on thorns,
But flowers we remain inside.
poem by Mehreen Mujeeb

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Cut Up Angels
If we cut out the bad
Well then wed have nothing left
Like I cut up your mouth
The night I stuffed it all in
And you lied to the Angel
Said I stabbed you to death
If we go at the same time
They'll clean up the mess
I lost my head
You couldnt come
This lust to my brain almost feels like a gun
Watched you bite into the bottle
Watched me kick out the chair
Let you chew up the glass
And laughed as you just hung there
I have thought of rose petals mostly perfect and pure
Then I thought of your petals
And the abuse theyve been through
I lost my head
You couldnt come
This lust to my brain almost feels like a gun
You lost your head
I couldnt come
This lust to my brain almost feels like a gun
Whoa whoa
I told the angels
Cant stay in heaven
I asked the devil
If we cut out the bad well then we'd have nothing left
Like I cut up your angels
Yeah you stabbed me to death
I lost my head
You couldnt come
This lust to my brain almost feels like a gun
You lost your head
I couldnt come
This lust to my brain almost feels like a gun
song performed by by Used

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Completing All The Touches
Her pupil shone –
Black stole a peek
Her smile wore sleek
Beneath a knowingness
That I would seek
A slipping down of garments,
Jealous of their role
To hide the jewels that complement,
Completing all the touches.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011
Lines of Lust
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
poem by Mark R Slaughter

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Paint Me Down
Paint me down
Paint me down
Paint me down
Im walking into studio
Consider strange appeal
Paint me in the home
Im brushing up on sketchbook
Designs for love unreal
Paint me in the home
Oil and skin youll need to buy it
Consider what I mean
She sinks beneath thr moving pictures
Prepare the brush for me
Im craving with this need
Paint me down
Paint me down
Paint me down
Im soaking up the surface
Conceaiving new idea
Paint me in the home
Shes oiling up her subject
But all still life is here
Paint me in the home
All the boys with framed dimension
A cover up on lust
Hell take his pain and paint it over
Prepare the brush for me
Im craving with this need
Paint me down
Paint me down
Paint me down
song performed by by Spandau Ballet

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fantasy IV
Pounce of nipple
Snatches,
Catches me off guard
Flounce and ripple
Thro' the breasts
Arrests
Landing hard,
I'm flung upon my back
To analyse the ceiling -
No appealing under stress
Now under dress -
Panties gone
And she upon
My countenance -
I rouse to bait
Her feminine way
Lead astray by
Aromatic warming
Of her womanhood,
I tune her body's
Resonance
Thro' eloquence of tongue -
Her shrieking
Highly strung
We up the play
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2012
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
poem by Mark R Slaughter

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Apparition of a Butterfly
Upon a fuzzy vista – vision blurred –
I tried to focus; nothing ever solid
Came to view, but undeterred, I blinked
An eye to try again. Through the mist
A coloured hue; polychromatic flames
Had flickered at a whim; a rhythm bore
A thrumming too: a naturalistic hymn.
Behold! Were I to find a synonym to
Reproduce or recreate
The apparition of a butterfly,
Evolving through the waning vapour,
Drawing on a sigh from this romantic.
Glory be! The raging sun above
Had fired his furnace, flaming off
The hangers on. Now I saw the flare:
His time has come. He spread a tortoiseshell –
A scene of Mother Nature at her best.
I lay in peace in knowing I was blessed.
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
Butterfly Butterfly Butterfly Butterfly Butterfly Butterfly
Butterfly Butterfly Butterfly Butterfly Butterfly Butterfly fly
Butterfly Butterfly Butterfly Butterfly Butterfly Butterfly fly
poem by Mark R Slaughter

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Inspiration
let the brush begin
let the strokes be gentle
but let all these be
definite with a sense of
a mission
a purpose
paint me oranges
like suns
green patches of
grass
like peace
paint me the blueness
of the seven seas
let these be not as dark
as the night
let there be openings
like doors and
windows
so i can breathe
let me live
like i was once so alive
let me go through all these gently
like the fluttering wings
of a sky blue butterfly
you are my flower
scented with morning lemon
let me
on such a short moment
bloom
and then
even for a day
just a day
wilt with you.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Butterfly Net
~A song before love, obviously.~
You are a butterfly,
Flying ever so high,
I could gaze at you until I die.
Life is a butterfly,
Clip the wings and you’ll never fly,
I will live until I die.
I am a butterfly net,
I’ll take you, faster than a jet,
I steal you, the only way you I could get.
I am an entomologist,
I dissect you, never kissed,
They’ll see I’m ****ed.
In the end,
I’ll always see you around the bend,
Up to date on the latest trend,
If only in my butterfly net.
poem by Nicholas Weaver

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Black Paint
Who daubed black paint
upon this canvass?
Come out and stand before us.
We shall interrogate you,
stand and admit your crime!
This canvass, once so clean,
is tarnished by your hand.
Do you claim freedom of expression?
This is no monument to art?
I have a theory, be it good or bad
it's just a crazy artist who got mad.
poem by Ruth Walters

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Butterfly...
Butterfly...my all..my own, Butterfly
My butterfly, I remember the
day we met. You bumped into me.
Well, sort of floated, from no where,
and from that moment, I recall what
I said, 'Well, my little butterfly,
where did you come from.?
Butterfly, you laughed, and responded,
'I picked you out, and just floated down,
and landed on your shoulder.
Butterfly, there are many that think
that a Butterfly, can't laugh, but you did.
They think that a Butterfly, does not cry,
but you have.
Can a Butterfly be happy, cause happiness?
Butterfly, of mine...you did.
Can a Butterfly, caused one to nearly burst
with joy? Butterfly, you did and you have.
Butterfly, there is not a moment, since I
met you, that I can not recall.
Some might wonder what a butterfly, drinks.
Butterfly, shall we let them know, we became
intoxicated, as we sipped the nectar of life.
As my butterfly and I floated through the
wonders of earth, I wish we could share the
joy we found, with all of this planet.
Butterfly, shall we always be together?
Butterfly, I do not mean, just here on
earth, I mean until the stars stop shinning.
Butterfly, I mean, until there is no moon...
no anything, but my Butterfly and I.
Butterfly...I think that we will. Butterfly,
I believe that we were meant to be.
On Wing and Wind...
My butterfly, I remember the
day we met. You bumped into me.
Well, sort of floated, from no where,
and from that moment, I recall what
I said, 'Well, my little butterfly,
where did you come from.?
Butterfly, you laughed, and responded,
'I picked you out, and just floated down,
and landed on your shoulder.
Butterfly, there are many that think
that a Butterfly, can't laugh, but you did.
They think that a Butterfly, does not cry,
but you have.
Can a Butterfly be happy, cause happiness?
Butterfly, of mine...you did.
Can a Butterfly, caused one to nearly burst
with joy? Butterfly, you did and you have.
Butterfly, there is not a moment, since I
met you, that I can not recall.
Some might wonder what a butterfly, drinks.
Butterfly, shall we let them know, we became
intoxicated, as we sipped the nectar of life.
As my butterfly and I floated through the
wonders of earth, I wish we could share the
joy we found, with all of this planet.
Butterfly, shall we always be together?
Butterfly, I do not mean, just here on
earth, I mean until the stars stop shinning.
Butterfly, I mean, until there is no moon...
no anything, but my Butterfly and I.
Butterfly...I think that we will. Butterfly,
I believe that we were meant to be.
Butterfly, Butterfly
butterfly, butterfly
fly in the sky
butterfly, butterfly
flies so high
butterfly, butterfly
lands on my thigh
butterfly, butterfly
motionlessly lies
butterfly, butterfly
gracefully dies
poem by Adryan Bates

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Butterfly
Some will find subtlety left in strangers,
Some will find subtlety alone.
And if you find everything like you're looking for,
If you find anything let me in.
My eyes, i see, i see everything.
My eyes, i see it's together i know.
Some will find everything trapped in cages.
Some will find simple things inside their zoo.
And if you find everything like you're looking for,
If you find anything let me go.
My eyes, i see, i see it all.
My eyes, i see and feel it's together i know.
Butterfly home, fly home, fly home, fly...
And i'll raise my head up,
And i'll raise my arms up,
And i'll flutter on, beautiful, flutter on, beautiful, flutter on, beautiful, flutter on, beautiful
Butterfly, butterfly
Butterfly...
And i'll raise my wings up,
And i'll shed this shell off,
And i'll flutter on, beautiful, flutter on, beautiful, flutter on, beautiful, flutter on, beautiful
Butterfly, yeah
Flutter on, beautiful
Butterfly, yeah
If what i know is real,
If what i know is all,
I'm dying, i'm dying
Flutter on beautiful, flutter on beautiful.
I'm dying beautiful, i'm dying beautiful.
Flutter on, i'm beautiful.
Fly, i'm beautiful.
Butterfly, i'm beautiful.
Butterfly, yeah.
Butterfly, butterfly...
And i see in my eyes,
And i feel in my skin,
And i walk in my world,
And i feel that i'm dying...
song performed by by Candlebox

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Talons of a Gothic Mind
She of talons, borne from gothic mind-
Steel of blue her chilly stare,
Pitch of black her fetid blood-
Whence there came an evil flare
To terrorise the weeping kind
Befogged in mental mire; to rape
The shore with phallic waves -
And all for lust, her one desire:
Corrupt the sand of innocence
Without a case for penitence,
Or cause for such as reticence -
While coming on her priapismic fire.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
Lust lust lust Lust lust lust Lust lust lust
Lust lust lust Lust lust lust Lust lust lust
Lust lust lust Lust lust lust Lust lust lust
poem by Mark R Slaughter

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The Strokes Of My Pen
With the strokes of my pen
I'll write again
words that come into view.
And those that come upon my words
will know me as they do.
For my heart will speak to them
and say
you, my readers have found a way
to read the thoughts
I leave behind
and then you'll find
you know me.
You won't need to see
my presence at all.
For all my words will make the call
and bare my soul to you.
And you will know just who I am.
The strokes of my pen are the clue.
poem by Edwina Reizer

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Yes You May Paint My World
be ready
paint my world
be patient
it is not as white
as a canvass
to start with
i am spotted
like gerard manley hopkins
with his cow
and this trout
i have some
red marks on
my heart and
some stains
in my brains
i am dark
and you will need
nothing black
paint me
with the color
of gentleness
and the color
of your concern
i am not really
lovable but
you may paint
me with the colors
of your love
if you have doubts
don't worry
make something
abstract about me
i won't bother
i am your brother
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Witch
Eyes, rivulets of red that run beneath a canopy
Of green-tinged lashes –
Tear blood playing on the grey-white skin,
Stretched across the twin peaks of cheekbone.
That slender pillar of a neck –
Magnet of eroticism, blinds to
Veins gorging on the flesh,
Dancing under pulse of blood –
Or whatever pumps inside.
Coal-black lips word intentions –
Castigations – variations of the horror
She was born to be.
O the hair! – a flame-orange avalanche
Thundering down to Hell
Where seething mounds of torn bodies lost their souls
To viler wants and fouler holes of
Scatological minds.
And the plunge of lavish breast –
E’er the siren’s weapon! –
Baits the mortal man –
Were he to chance his hand across
The certainty of doom.
But still we go, our weakness on display –
Hers will not a challenge be to see to our decay.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011
Under lust rain
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
poem by Mark R Slaughter

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Butterfly, Butterfly
Hoping to catch your eye
Circling around you, oh my
Butterfly, butterfly, come into the light
Oh, what a beautiful sight
Flying so gracefully
Into the sky, the butterfly
Trying to catch a butterfly
Fly, fly, fly, butterfly
There he sets upon the mums
I'm having so much fun
Here's another on the sill
Your standing so still
You go to touch him
There he goes, the butterfly
I hear a tapping on the window
It's the butterfly, fly, fly, fly
There he goes into the sky
Flying so high, the butterfly
I'll see you another day
Butterfly, butterfly, away
poem by Sharon Adamson

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