Rorsharch’s test
Remember those inkblots
They have them ready
For you to tell them
About you
And so you begin
With the story of a Big Bear
With sharp claws
Hair all over the body
Big feet, and you said the
Big Bear is walking towards
The forest looking for Mama Bear
Who left little bear cubs,
And then you go to the next
You said you saw clowns
Teasing each other and they have
Extraordinary penises hanging
On their clown pants. You think
It was really funny. You were
Just honest.
Then there was a Big Butterfly
Lots of colors and you describe
Wings spreading and you said they
Are flying towards a warm place
Because they look so cold and oppressed.
Then the Big Bat and you said you
Are viewing it from the top
And it is flying
It is flying
In such a speed
Faster than sound
Jokingly you told
Them how Einstein
Discovered the law of relativity
All because of this Big Bat
Flying faster than a speed of sound
Its mass shirked and light got
So distorted it lost itself in space.
And you look at the analyst
Call it the psychiatrist
Her eyes rolled and she
Blinked and she moved her
Face sidewise. She repeated
If the bat, the bear, the butterfly
The clowns move
And whether they move so fast.
And you said,
Definitely yes.
And she scribbled
Her secret notes about you
You know she’d say
There is something wrong
About you
You are schizophrenic
To a certain degree
You need to see a
Full time psychiatrist
And you laugh
You have read about the test
And you could have pretended
Sanity
Do not say the bat is flying
Do not say the clown is jesting
Do not say the butterfly is fluttering
Do not say the Bear is shaggily tramping on ice
Make them still
Normal no movement
Something sane does not move
Something normal is still
Stationary, unprogressing
Reality is ecstatic. Reality is something that stops.
A statue. A mannequin.
Reality is a picture. Dead piece of paper.
No imagination
No metaphor
You will be a hundred percent sane.
You know what she wrote in secret
And you treat her for dinner
Candlelight, you ask her name
And tell her jokes
And tell her about yourself
You are a poet. You have imagination.
You have metaphor. You make objects move.
You have bats that fly for good reasons
You have clowns that dance the salsa and the boogie.
You have butterflies that flutter in your imaginary gardens
You have huggable bears.
Papa bear kissing Mama and little bears pissing them both.
You are trained for some creativity. For some action.
You are a fertile field where rains come and flowers grow
And birds fly and sunshine comes with colors of seasons in a prism of raindrops.
And by all means, you tell her, as you sip your champagne
Glass gleaming against a lazy light of this cozy café
“By all means I am not crazy. I am just a poet”
She pretends she understands. She sticks to her science, of course.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Twice Times
There were Two Little Bears who lived in a Wood,
And one of them was Bad and the other was Good.
Good Bear learnt his Twice Times One -
But Bad Bear left all his buttons undone.
They lived in a Tree when the weather was hot,
And one of them was Good, and the other was Not.
Good Bear learnt his Twice Times Two -
But Bad Bear's thingummies were worn right through.
They lived in a Cave when the weather was cold,
And they Did, and they Didn't Do, what they were told.
Good Bear learnt his Twice Times Three -
But Bad Bear never had his hand-ker-chee.
They lived in the Wood with a Kind Old Aunt,
And one said 'Yes'm,' and the other said 'Shan't!'
Good Bear learnt his Twice Times Four -
But Bad Bear's knicketies were terrible tore.
And then quite suddenly (just like Us)
One got Better and the other got Wuss.
Good Bear muddled his Twice Times Three -
But Bad Bear coughed in his hand-ker-chee!
Good Bear muddled his Twice Times Two -
But Bad Bear's thingummies looked like new.
Good Bear muddled his Twice Times One -
But Bad Bear never left his buttons undone.
There may be a Moral, though some say not;
I think there's a moral, though I don't know what.
But if one gets better, as the other gets wuss,
These Two Little Bears are just like Us.
For Christopher remembers up to Twice Times Ten ...
But I keep forgetting where I put my pen.*
* So I have had to write this one in pencil.
poem by Alan Alexander Milne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Don Juans Song
The moon is in an ecstasy,
It wanes not nor can grow ;
The heavens are in a mist of love,
And deepest knowledge know :
What things in nature seem to move
Bear love as I bear love ?
And bear my pleasures so?
I bear my love as streams that bear
The sky still flow or shake :
Though deep within, too far on high.
Light blossoms kiss and wake
The waters sooner than the sky ;
And if they kiss and (lie
God made them frail to break.
poem by Isaac Rosenberg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Butterfly Fx
When I move
You move with me
I feed off you
You feast on me
And what I see
You can not see
That when I move
You move with me
Where's this small
dead hand that creeps me
I am biting it to its very bone
Collapsing with everything new on me
until it gets so very old
And what I see
You can not see
That when I move
You move with me
There is this third body
spinning fast
reducing me
into a relapse
with its crippled flaps
slow motion dims
sweetly parasited
by butterfly wings
And what I see
You can not see
That when I move
You move with me
All that is old is new again
(To be) each other spies
we're condemned
Everything is everywhere
The butterfly effect
And what I see
You can not see
I will have to kill you
Before you kill me
Everything is everywhere
The butterfly effect
song performed by by Moonspell from Butterfly Effect
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Multicolored Butterfly
There was a multicolored butterfly flying in the air
A multicolored butterfly- who did not have a care.
Going from flower to flower for all the world to see
The beauties of nature made for you and me.
People stopping and talking and gazing upon its wings
This is one of the wonders GOD gave us.
And such a beautiful thing.
This multicolored butterfly flew around my head
I knew if I grabbed it- then soon it would be dead.
They have a life expectancy of seventy two hours you see
And that is the reason it has to be free.
They have a place called butterfly world
In a town called coconut creek
I knew I had to go there
I had to take a peek.
They had butterflies from all over the world
And a quick class to show, all the boys and girls.
There is so much about butterflies that I didn’t know
They can see colors of red, yellow, and green
But nothing in between.
They sip nectars from flowers through their tongues
And smell through their antennae, and taste with
Their feet, and breathe through the sides of their bodies
That in itself is a learning treat.
So to this butterfly that’s flying around my head
I salute and praise your beauty till the moment
That you’re dead.
I will mourn for you for the short time that you lived.
Because in that time, you had so much to give.
poem by Louis Rams
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Little Butterfly
I saw a little butterfly
Flying By to say Hi
Flying among the field of green
Admiring the Beautiful Stream
I saw the little butterfly
flying high, so high up into the sky
High above the garden green
covering the suns yellow beam
Flying all day
Flying all night
Flying into the beautiful Moonlight
Only myself in a crowded street
Only myself walking down the crowded street,
Everyone around me like statues in a park.
Here’s a car waiting to turn,
There’s an old man feeding the birds.
I can picture what there doing,
But their only paused.
As though the video is stopped,
They just stand there waiting for it to play.
This strange new world where all time has stopped,
Why have I been brought to this odd dimension?
Only I can move back and forth,
Only I can reach out and feel their stone cold hands.
Many questions left unanswered,
And no one there to ask.
Desperately I search,
For any sign of life.
Then strangely I see,
A little insect fly.
As though in this despair,
There is something there besides myself.
I follow the butterfly,
As though it is my one last hope.
It lands on a head,
Of one of these statue-like beings.
And suddenly they start moving,
As though given life.
The little flying insect,
Skips from one to another.
Each and every one that the butterfly touches,
Starts moving in their step.
Each action that I pictured,
Becomes real before my eyes.
Then the little butterfly flies,
Back into the sky.
Never to be seen again,
Or so I thought that day.
Then after years gone by,
And I turned old and fragile.
Laying in my bed,
Looking up into the sky.
I saw the little butterfly,
Fly down to where I lay.
Landed by my ear,
And softly spoke to me.
“It is time for you to leave, ”
Said the little butterfly.
“I’ll bring you to a place,
That will give you life once more.”
Then the little butterfly,
Flew onto my forehead.
And flew off to another stone planet,
Leaving my body statue-like.
poem by Jessica Kissner
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Constant Pain
You don't know what it's like to have Pain, every time you take a
breath or even breathe.
You don't know what it's like to have to hold your breathe each time the
bus turns a curve
You don't know what it's like when you're standing and you have to move
but you don't want to because you will be in Pain
You don't know what it's like to get up and know that you are going to be
in Pain most of the day
You don't know what it's like for your heart to beat fast as if you just
ran a mile even though you only walked a few feet
You don't know what it's like to be in never ending Pain
You don't know what it's like to sit and in be in Pain
You don't know what it's like to not want to walk because with each step
it will make your hip hurt
You don't know what it's like to sit on your bed and wait for your heart
to beat normally
You don't know what it's like to have Pain in your arm that is writing
this
You don't know what it's like to wait for the Pain to stop
You don't know that it's like to see your hand move because something
inside your chest is beating way above normal
You just don't know what it's like
You don't know what it's like to not want to sleep
You don't know what it's like to experience Pain every time your back his
straight
You don't know what it's like to have my Pain
You will never know what it's like to have my Pain
You will never know and you will never try
My Pain is my Pain, no one else's
It is my burden to bear. I bear it alone. I will bear it alone till I
change my mind
It's not anytime soon. I'm sorry.
You don't know what it like for something to bleed on your hand when you
don't know how you got it to bleed
You don't know what it's like to not want to take a deep breathe because
if you do, you will just be in Pain and sometimes, you just can't help it
poem by Matthew Bresette
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Face Up
Ever since Ive seen your face
This life of mine has gone to waste
I was young and you were old
And I always knew you were cold
At the start you had a heart
But in the end you lost your friend
Can you see your own dark face?
Its dieing in a lonely place
Oh, how I cannot bear the thought of you
I said, oh, how I cannot bear the thought of you
As we get old, we lose our place
Reflecting back the worlds disgrace
I feel so low, I feel so humble
Sometimes in life we take a tumble
Dont let anybody tell you that youre no good
Cause you know they would
Dont let anybody tell you what you should do
Cause its not that way and...
Oh, how I cannot bear the thought of you
I said, oh, how I cannot bear the thought of you
We were young and we were pure
And life was just an open door
I said oh, oh, how I cannot bear the thought of you
You were me and I was you
This world of ours it felt brand new
You took me a little further...
I heard it all before, Ive heard it all before
I cant hear it anymore
Your hair was long, your eyes was blue
Guess what Im gonna do to you
Oh, how I cannot bear the thought of you
I said, oh, how I cannot bear the thought of you
We were young and we were pure
And life was just an open door
I said oh, oh, how I cannot bear the thought...
Oh, how I cannot bear the thought of you
I said oh, oh, how I cannot bear the thought of you
We were young and we were pure...
song performed by by New Order
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Bear and the Hare
The bear is always bare. I have never seen a bear who was not bare. Or does he or she wear a coat of hair? Where does he or she go to buy a coat of hair so that he or she won't be a bare bear? Coats cost money. Bare bears have no money.
But bears eat honey. Even bare bears eat honey. And this bear had a honey who wanted a coat of hair. So when she said to her honey, 'Honey, I want a coat of hair, but I have no money.', her honey replied, 'Honey, I have no money to buy a coat of hair. But I do have honey. Maybe I can sell my honey for money.' So he sold his honey for money so that his honey could have some money to buy a coat of hair and not be a bare bear.
This bear had a friend who was a hare. This hare has hair. Is he bare? He is not a bare bear but a hare and hares have hair. But he is a funny bunny and likes a sunny spot even when it is hot because he like to have fun in the sun. But this funny bunny could not find a sunny spot to go to have fun in the sun until one day a fair came to town.
The bear and hare of course went to the fair. What a pair! The fair was quite far so the bare bear and the hare with the hair decided to ride the street car. To ride the street car, they had to pay a fare. I say that was quite an affair - to see the bare bear and the hair paying for their fare. The bare bear had no pockets in which to carry any fare. The funny bunny had no honey to sell to get some money to pay the fare so that he could go to the fair. The fare cost ten cents. But that makes no sense. It isn't fair to make a bear who is bare and has no pockets to hold a fare or a funny bunny who has no honey to get money to pay a fare to go to the fair.
Subsequently, the bare bear barely got on the street car after the funny bunny hopped on, the bare bear and the hair were there sitting in chairs riding in the street car to the fair without paying any fare. Along the way they saw a mare. They did not care about the mare. They wanted to get to the fair. Have you every seen a bare bear sitting in a chair? I once saw a bare bear sitting in a chair at a fair but he wasn't bare.
To get into the fair the bare bear and the hair had to pay another fare. And still the bare bear had no money to pay any fare to get into the fair. And the funny bunny had no money to pay any fare to get into the fair. So what did they do? How did they get into the fair? As I said, I saw the bare bear sitting in a chair at the fair but he wasn't bare.
Tell me if this is a poem. Thanks.
poem by Ben Gieske
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Butterfly, Butterfly
Butterfly, butterfly
Your colors so bright
Where do you go
When God turns out the light?
Do you find someplace safe
That you can call home?
Or continue to flutter;
Continue to roam?
Through a buffet of flavors
Slurping nectar so sweet
Savoring a myriad of flowers
As their juices you drink.
Until your tummy's content
And you've had your fill
Now let your food settle
Until your next nectar meal.
Butterfly, butterfly,
Your colors so bright
Where do you go
When God turns out the light?
Do you continue to fly
From flower to flower
Or call it a day
Then wait out the hours?
Do you find a cozy
And comfy place
Where you're sure to show
God's beauty and grace?
Butterfly, butterfly
With colors so bright
Where do you go
When God turns out the light?
I've seen you
Many times before
At a picnic, a ballgame,
At the seashore.
Look for the beauty
God gave us to share
And we will find butterflies
Plentiful there.
Butterfly, butterfly,
Colors so bright
Where do you go
When God turns out the light?
poem by Gail Godin
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Faster Than The Speed Of The Night
(Jim Steinman)
I don't want to let another minute got by
They're slipping tho ough out finger, but we're ready to fly
The night'll be our cover and we'll huddle below
We got the music in our bodies and the radio
And when the mourning arrives it'll all be gone
Disappearing in (to) the crack of dawn
We better make our move now before the sun is awake
It's time to put up or shut up and to pick up the pace
And I don't want to let another minute go by
Love is going to get us while the moon is in the sky
We may be running out of night, but never running out of steam
We're acting on a hunch, and we'll be acting out a dream
There really isn't any time to lose
They're going to catch us if we wait until it gets too light
You're such a pretty boy
Let me show you what to do, and you'll do it
But you gotta move faster
Faster than the speed of night
Faster than the speed of night
Faster than the speed of night
Faster than the speed of night
It's all we ever wanted
And it's all we'll ever need
And it's slipping through our fingers
Faster than the speed of night
Faster than the speed of night
Faster than the speed of night
It's all we ever wanted
And it's all we'll ever need
And it's slipping through our fingers
Faster than the speed of night
Faster than the speed of night
Faster than the speed of night
Faster than the speed of night
Faster than the speed of night
Let me show you how to drive me crazy
Let me show you how to make me feel so good
Let me show you how to take me to the edgeof the stars and then back again
You've gotta show me how to drive you crazy
You've gotta show me all the things you want to happen to you
We've gotta tell each other everything we always wanted someone to do
I don't want to push you now and I don't want to rush
We're getting closer every second now, but close is not enough
The night'll be our cover and we'll huddle below
We got the musicin our fingers and the radio
There really isn't any time to lose
We're going to lose it if we wait until it gets too light
You're such a pretty boy
Let me show you what to do, and you'll do it
But you gotta move faster
Faster than the speed of night
Faster than the speed of night
Faster than the speed of night
It's all we ever wanted
And it's all we'll ever need
And it's slipping through our fingers
Faster than the speed of night
Faster than the speed of night
Faster than the speed of night
It's all we ever wanted
And it's all we'll ever need
And it's slipping through our fingers
Faster than the speed of night
Faster than the speed of night
Faster than the speed of night
Faster than the speed of night
Faster than the speed of night
song performed by by Bonnie Tyler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Thought You Knew
The only shame I claim,
Is not being honest.
When I took it upon myself...
To decide you could not bear,
The truth.
I pretended not to know it!
And now you are left to suffer.
Clinging onto delusions.
Hoping...
That what has been diminished from your reality,
Will survive to revive a time that has passed!
A time that has gone.
With no guarantee given,
That it would last!
Not to linger for you...
To pick up when you wished.
And to be carried on!
And I observe you in despair.
Wishing to revisit yesterday!
Wishing to do those things,
You promised yourself you would!
If only you could!
With intentions that are good.
And I was there...
Letting you believe,
You had time!
And I knew in my mind,
You were not living in yesterday then!
And I pretended not to know it.
I thought you were teasing.
And unwilling to show it!
And today,
No matter what I say to you...
You aren't prepared to accept tomorrow.
You are not living in the 'now'!
And doing that,
Now...
Can only bring you joy!
But you wish to keep...
Those memories kept in bitterness,
To refresh as if they sit to treat!
And I pretended not to know that...
Because I thought you knew!
Because,
Well...
I thought you knew me too!
But I realize so vividly now...
Both of us have been wrong,
For too long!
The only shame I claim,
Is not being honest.
When I took it upon myself...
To decide you could not bear,
The truth.
I pretended not to know it!
And the happiness I have discovered...
You would not understand it.
Even though I have been here.
And wanting it to be shared!
What you have found to rely on that comforts...
I view that as a sign of despair.
I thought you knew...
I have not been there to share that with you!
And that's the only shame I claim!
Not being honest.
When I took it upon myself...
To decide you could not bear,
The truth.
I pretended not to know it!
But you...
I know now,
Aren't pretending at all.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I'm like a butterfly
I'm like a butterfly
Always beautiful
In begin, I seem shy
But I'm wonderful
I'm like a butterfly
Flying into flowers
And I'll party all night
Because I have a lot of owners
First, I show up my beauty
Then I run when you try caught me
My objetive is let you wishing
Because after, I'll get you missing
I'm like a butterfly
Always untoucheble
I'm into your mind
Want you or no
I'm like a butterfly
High up your nose
I'll party all night
And then, dissapearing I go
First, I caught your attention
Then, I make it be a passion
My objetive is get you wanting
When I got, I'll let you in
I'll make you fall for me
And then, I'll bring you a regret
And you do not know my secret
You can't imagine that I fell too...
I'm like a butterfly
Always beautiful
In begin, I seem shy
But I'm wonderful
I'm like a butterfly
Flying into flowers
And I'll party all night
Because I have a lot of owners
I'm like a butterfly
Always untoucheble
I'm into your mind
Want you or no
I'm like a butterfly
High up your nose
I'll party all night
And then, dissapearing I go
poem by Ianne de Angel
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Wingless Flight
Wingless Flight
I sometime sit and wonder why
There are some birds which cannot fly.
The Emu and the Ostrich too
Remain earthbound as we have to
The penguins clad in black and white,
they too have lost the power of flight.
They do their flying in the sea
I don’t know why it puzzles me.
I have no wings I cannot fly
but if I had I would rise high.
Above the land, above the sea.
Instead of sitting miserably
confined by age to my arm chair.
My aching joints are hard to bear.
Despite my disability
I have the capability
To disregard reality
Immerse my self in fantasy
and fly to where I want to be.
I don’t need wings to carry me.
I travel at the speed of thought
to where the silver dragons sport
I do not need to leave my chair
imagination takes me any where.
15-Aug-08
http: // blog.myspace.com/poetic piers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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After Death
IF we must part, this parting is the best:
How would you bear to lay
Your head on some warm pillow far away--
Your head, so used to lying on my breast?
But now your pillow is cold;
Your hands have flowers, and not my hands, to hold;
Upon our bed the worn bride-linen lies.
I have put the death-money upon your eyes,
So that you should not wake up in the night.
I have bound your face with white;
I have washed you, yes, with water and not with tears,--
Those arms wherein I have slept so many years,
Those feet that hastened when they came to me,
And all your body that belonged to me.
I have smoothed your dear dull hair,
And there is nothing left to say for you
And nothing left to fear or pray for you;
And I have got the rest of life to bear:
Thank God it is you, not I, who are lying there.
If I had died
And you had stood beside
This still white bed
Where the white, scented, horrible flowers are spread,--
I know the thing it is,
And I thank God that He has spared you this.
If one must bear it, thank God it was I
Who had to live and bear to see you die,
Who have to live, and bear to see you dead.
You will have nothing of it all to bear:
You will not even know that in your bed
You lie alone. You will not miss my head
Beside you on the pillow: you will rest
So soft in the grave you will not miss my breast.
But I--but I--Your pillow and your place--
And only the darkness laid against my face,
And only my anguish pressed against my side--
Thank God, thank God, that it was you who died!
poem by Edith Nesbit
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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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Only for you
I can bear any insult
I can bear any misdeed
I can bear any oppression
I can bear the wounds of love or
Those of hatred
I can bear everything
But only for you God
Only for you.
poem by Mohammad Akmal Nazir
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Day in a Hospital Ward
Looking out of the window,
I saw the birds flying.
Seeing them so free
I felt like crying.
Then a ‘voice’ said,
You are not here to stay.
So bear with the loneliness
Just for a day.
I got up and stood
Near the window,
And opened it to breathe
The fresh air from the meadow.
As it filled my lungs,
I began to feel light
And no longer envied
The birds their flight.
I got up and changed
And took myself to task,
And to bear with a smile
A day in a hospital ward.
poem by Mamta Agarwal
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Ghost Bear, page 1 of 4
Long ago, in a small village
Where the Great River meets the
Limitless Salt Sea, lived Muin Manitu,
An aging shaman.
Ghost Bear had two good wives
Who gave him four fine daughters
And many grand-children.
But now both wives were dead.
Ghost Bear was getting old,
So old that he made his death song
Mumbling it often under his breath
So he would not forget it.
One night, Raven came to Ghost Bear
In a dream, bringing an important message.
“You must leave wigwam and village,
before the sun rises again.”
“This must be my time, ” thought
Ghost Bear, “My time to die.
I am glad. It is a good time
to leave this world.”
And so, taking only his knife and
His Medicine Bag, Ghost Bear pushed
His canoe out into the river while
All the village slept.
“I will go west on the Great River, ”
Thought Ghost Bear to himself, “Then,
When it is my time to go, I will be
pointed in the right direction.”
All morning long, Ghost Bear paddled
Westward on the Great River, and when
Sun was directly above him, he saw
A raven flying high above.
“I am going true, ” he thought, “Raven
Has sent me an unmistakeable sign.”
And Ghost Bear kept paddling with
Neither food nor drink.
As day became night, Ghost Bear
Continued on, for the full moon was bright
And showed him the right path on the
Great River clearly, brightly.
poem by John Bliven Morin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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