The Act of Losing
i am floating today
feeling like
a butterfly
flattering the wind
and teasing
the flowers
in this beautiful
city garden
inside a public
park
i realize
i like living the life of a foolish
blue butterfly
knowing fully well how short
my life span can be
and yet
still busying myself with
things no less
important
like
not deciding what to do
with any flower
or cloud
not having to say yes
to any wind or
cloud
neither saying no
something lies
beyond
any decision
just like it
belonging to no one
not subjecting my proboscis
to the
dictates of the hands
of time
it is a very light existence
without a thought
a direction
not even a clue
of who am
i
really
in this flitting
moment
where i am just another
anonymous
in the mall
in the park
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
Frances 7
Fluttering
Moving lightly swiftly flying darting skimming
Like a yellow butterfly flitting passing flitting
From flower to flower from tree to tree
From cloud to cloud passing quickly
To depart then die this yellow butterfly
I have never heard it sing I have never heard it cry
Flitting fluttering lightly fluttering this lonely happy yellow butterfly!
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Thats the Butterfly in Me
Got to be where every flower I see
Thats the butterfly
in me
yes, Thats the butterfly
in me
I come and go on the wind
and soar in the sky
Cos thats just the butterfly
in me
I've got the wind under my beautiful
wings and my heart is happy
and it sings
Thats just the butterfly
in me
My colors run deeper
than the colors of the sea
Cos thats
the butterfly in me
poem by Dorsey Baker
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Yellow Butterfly
Music : rudolf schenker, marti frederiksen
Lyrics: klaus meine
In the temple of gods
The day had come to come together
In the early morning sun
They saw that girl that come to heaven
They ask her bout life on earth
If it was getting any better
She told em someone took her life
If they could send her back
Just one more time
She knew that someone feels so blue
Wouldnt it be nice ...hold on
To spread the wings and fly ...dont kill the butterfly
To see him one more time ...hold on
To be a yellow butterfly ...dont kill the butterfly
Hes been sitting on the bay
Lost inside a cloud of darkness
When I saw the butterfly
Dancing in the wind
The story goes
He knew that she was still so close
Wouldnt it be nice ...hold on
To spread the wings and fly ...dont kill the butterfly
To see him one more time ...hold on
To be a yellow butterfly ...dont kill the butterfly
song performed by by Scorpions
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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.
The Light That He Was Talking About
IT takes me months
to realize that
it was him who saw the
light,
HE stayed inside
the cubicles of his wisdom
I strayed
from the doors of my
prison
I chose to become a blue
butterfly
fluttering my blue wings
in the garden
of love (and lust as he sees
it)
I have chosen
a short span,
this perceived quality
of a life
well lived
in the beauty of my errors,
my truths,
my altruistic feeling that i have done
what i must do
They that command me
have found
the uselessness of their
mandatory lists
of what not
what ifs
what musts.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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.
The Shortest Moment That The Butterfly Tries To Speak
how many flutters of its wings is its lifetime?
not a hundred, this butterfly with blue shaking lines on its wings
some dots of black on the lower tip
some flaps of dust as you hold it.
we love to see it freely hovering from one flower to another
blending with its colors, it is not trying to hide anything
beautiful, it is showing itself, beautiful butterfly,
how gentle, soft to our hearts as we watch it
there is no sound of its wings and its graceful feeding on the nectars
then it rests on a leaf. we leave it there.
the wind last night was strong.
we see the leaf where it stayed on the pebbled ground.
there are no wings. there is no trace where the blue butterfly is.
how many flutters did that butterfly make?
such a brief moment, yet so beautiful
that is the message of the life of its lost wings.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Butterfly Fly Away
You tucked me in, turned out the light
Kept me safe and sound at night
Little girls depend on things like that
Brushed my teeth and combed my hair
Had to drive me everywhere
You were always there when I looked back
You had to do it all alone
Make a living, make a home
Must have been as hard as it could be
And when I couldn't sleep at night
Scared things wouldn't turn out right
You would hold my hand and sing to me
Caterpillar in the tree
How you wonder who you'll be
Can't go far but you can always dream
Wish you may and wish you might
Don't you worry, hold on tight
I promise you there will come a day
Butterfly fly away
Butterfly fly away, butterfly fly away
Flap your wings now you can't stay
Take those dreams and make them all come true
Butterfly fly away, butterfly fly away
We've been waiting for this day
All along and knowing just what to do
Butterfly, butterfly, butterfly, butterfly fly away
Butterfly fly away
Butterfly fly away
poem by Zack Horton
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Elusive Butterfly
Breeze blowing across my face
even the wind leaves a trace
gazing at wavering trees
petals floating in the breeze
For a brief moment in time
I thought maybe you'd be mine
but they were only dreams
and dreams are never what they seem
Love the elusive butterfly
always seems to pass me by
love the elusive butterfly
fly, fly fly, my elusive butterfly
Raindrops falling at my feet
why does love taste bittersweet?
butterfly's dancing in the trees
and then float off in the breeze
Love the elusive butterfly
always seems to pass me by
love the elusive butterfly
fly, fly fly, my elusive butterfly
poem by Jonny Soze
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O Beautiful Butterfly
Beautiful, beautiful
Purple, violet, red
Spotted and varied
Butterfly, butterfly
Little Rishu does say
Come and play
Butterfly, butterfly
Like you
I want to fly
Very, very high
And view
Beautiful flowers
And playing kids
Who oft skids
While running
Playing in the garden
O beautiful butterfly
Come and take me high
High above in the sky
O my sweet butterfly, butterfly
Shashikant Nishant Sharma 'साहिल'
==========©SNS==14 November 2010==Patna==========
{This poem was written on the children day on seeing my little nephew playing in the garden.}
poem by Shashikant Nishant Sharma
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Ode to a Butterfly
Butterfly, oh butterfly, why do you hide in the shadows?
Spread wide your wings, let your heart sing
And come dance with me in the meadow
Butterfly, oh butterfly, why do you fear?
You'll never stray, I'll lead the way
Just follow the path, I'll be near
Butterfly, oh butterfly, have you no hope?
Drink of the sun, our life's just begun
Thro time's hills and valleys we'll lope
Butterfly, oh butterfly, dare you to dream?
On our hearts we depend, shall we follow the wind
And consign to the fates grander scheme?
poem by Sheri Hockman
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Butterfly
butterfly
I stopped to look at a butterfly-then it flew away.
Yet! -left me with an impression.
With me it will always stay.
Its wings were a beautiful brown-with polka dots you see.
I had wanted to grab it-but I knew it had to be free.
They only have a short life span
But in their life -they live an eternity.
They have no worries or cares-but in their life they share
All the joys of yesteryear…
If man could be as a butterfly-and enjoy and share life.
we would not have to go through, all our struggles and strife.
poem by Louis Rams
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A butterfly finds its way back
A butterfly finds its way back
It was a drift from the path
It took place sometime back
Because our heroine sensed a lack
In the taste of nectar in the flower of the park
To the same park this flock of butterflies
Used to come and enjoy the sweet and nice
Nectar in the red and blue poppies
And fly back with this sweetened hobby
It was more an excuse than a reason
For this drift, but a thought’s treason
To deviate and critically question
All that were followed in mindless unison
Our young colourful one with whistle
In her wings, over a time turned hostile
To this tradition and thought it futile
To be in the flock and went away for a while
Others in the group became worried
Wondering where she would have been carried
Was she in the insect flower got buried
Or was by ants after an injury curried
One fine morning suddenly the butterfly was sighted
And she joined the flock as if nothing got slighted
And told others she followed the path less lighted
For a flower who became with her less delighted
She expressed to join the flower of flock’s choice
And be ever with it without making any further noise
The flock has no words to say but to rejoice
The retrieval of the butterfly with her vouching voice
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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Black Black Butterfly
Black Black butterfly flitting so
Freely through the warm sky
How you are so misunderstood
And under appreciated
Sometimes the perfect picture
Society tries to paint over
Life is so over rated!
Misconception and lack of
Understanding follows you
Every wear you glide
And weighs down your
Glorious wings leaving you
Nowhere to hide.
Your beauty is never
Acknowledged,
And your darkness if forbidden
In this time…so when you fly
It is always solo and not even the wind
Is kind.
Still you fly and soar,
High above the unstableness,
High above the loneliness,
But not high enough to escape
The feeling of being undesired
Fly..fly…black butterfly
Until the arrival of the midnight
Sky; the only place that brings
You joy so much.
Is that because you blend in with
The dark purplish heavens
Feeling comfort being unseen
And untouched?
Hurt no more black butterfly
Because I love you unconditionally
Cry no more black butterfly
And spread those beautiful wings and I
Shall soar with you…for I am with you
and you are in me.
poem by Danielle Beechum
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Song Seven
Song Seven
you cant sit up
you fell too fast
you come at the right time
you come too fast
you bloom in spring
you move the sky
youve come in singing
you call me a liar
you were like a cloud
yes you are a flower
then you were a lime
now our love is sour
you were like a flower
you were just like a flower
then you were a lime
now our love is sour
dont give up (I owe you)
no dont give up
oh dont give up
dont give up (I owe you)
you were like a cloud
yes you were a flower
then you were a lime
now our love is sour
you were like a cloud
you were just like a flower
then you were a lime
now our love is sour
here I feel I wish I could just see it
the love the hate the things that separate
forcing conscious to conscious every small attack
it takes a small man to notice but not to act up
confrontation complication needs a foundation
I'm calm baby, I'm calm
you were like a cloud
yes you are a flower you move i love life is all we need
then you were a lime
now our love is so sour you move i love life is all we need
so sour
so sour
dont give up
no dont give up
oh dont give up
no dont give up
start again butterfly
start again butterfly
start again butterfly
start again, start again dear
song performed by by Interpol
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What is the cloud to the sun?
For what is the cloud to the sun,
It is nothing. The wind has always
Driven it away and the sun does not
Care. For want of love and care, the
Cloud plays with the fields and the
River and the sea. Impregnated it
Has conceived, and gives
Birth to the rain. The fields and the
Sea and the rivers feasted. The fields
Grow the grass and the flowers.
The sea and the rivers have
Seeded its waters with more fish.
The cloud does not like it. It has
Always dreamt of the sun but the
Wind has always blown it away.
At night the cloud talks to the moon.
And seeing the likeness of its light
To the sun that it loves, the cloud
Makes love with the shining moon.
It has given birth to the stars.
The following morning, the cloud
Is exhausted. It floats with the
Chastisements of the wind. There
Is no more direction. It still dreams
Of the sun. It dies and becomes
Taken as part of the wind. The
Cloud has become a white, clear
Sky. It is nothing. It is what you
See, when love is unrequited.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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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Life of a Cloud
Warming thermals whisper as they rise,
To tell us they are soon to bring to view
In cooler air aloft before your eyes:
A gentle wisp to counterpoint the blue.
Powder puffs emerge to grant her grace
That further bloom as would for stately tree, and
Yield a sight that calls for our embrace:
Another cloud anew above the lea.
Cruising forth, she yearns for ageless life.
O how her hopes will soon be dashed in vain,
For up there in the cold she courts her strife,
To fade away as drops of closing rain.
Scant and lacy speak her living span,
And fair among us could be brought to mourn,
But she was there to populate her clan:
From fallen tears, new daughters will be born.
Copyright © Mark R slaughter 2010
A cloudy sky
sky cloud sky cloud sky cloud sky
sky cloud sky cloud sky cloud sky
sky cloud sky cloud sky cloud sky
sky cloud sky cloud sky cloud sky
sky cloud sky cloud sky cloud sky
sky cloud sky cloud sky cloud sky
sky cloud sky cloud sky cloud sky
sky cloud sky cloud sky cloud sky
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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The Slave Boy's Wish
I wish I was that little bird,
Up in the bright blue sky,
That sings and flies just where he will,
And no one asks him why.
I wish I was that little brook,
That runs so swift along,
Through pretty flowers and shining stones,
Singing a merry song.
I wish I was that butterfly,
Without a thought or care,
Sporting my pretty, brilliant wings,
Like a flower in the air.
I wish I was that wild, wild deer,
I saw the other day,
Who swifter than an arrow flew,
Through the forest far away.
I wish I was that little cloud,
By the gentle south wind driven,
Floating along so free and bright,
Far, far up into heaven.
I'd rather be a cunning fox,
And hide me in a cave;
I'd rather be a savage wolf,
Than what I am-a slave.
My mother calls me her good boy,
My father calls me brave;
What wicked action have I done,
That I should be a slave?
I saw my little sister sold,
So will they do to me;
My heavenly Father, let me die,
For then I shall be free.
poem by Anonymous Americas
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