Wings Of Butterflies!
I am not wet with sorrowful clouds, but wet,
I am not crinkled with ill thoughts, but crinkled,
I am not inflated with illusion, but deflated,
Born with no doubts, but desires.
Hang upside down to pump the nutrients,
As the hermit in the inhospitable forest,
Both wings get dried up and the veins are filled,
Victorious message of mutant genes prospered.
Scales of ultraviolet rays that can be seen by
The species that have spectacular eyes,
Can camouflage with any number of hues and textures,
Warn the predators with beautiful and bright colors.
Patterned perfect flaws on the wings,
Attract the potent mate to fling,
The bitter body of eye catching insects,
Deceive everyone who tries to link.
The flight of it on the sky,
Flutter in rhythm with no shy,
Do they warm up their body?
Or the display to human eyes?
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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A Woman´s World
It is a woman´s world
The new sex symbols are men they want to look like
muscular heroes seen on TV and on films.
They train several times a day to get a perfect body
other men have, thinking they must to attract women,
but all they attract are other men who fall into
the same trap what a beautiful body is the beginning
and a goal by itself. Why is it that men have been
reduced to think of their body must be perfect when
it by itself has little value? In a world where women
are equal; men subconsciously think they have in order
to attract women must look nice and attractive.
But women are not stupid they may adore a beautiful
Body, but they prefer, after having a fling with a body
builder, marry a man with prospects who can give
them security and economic stability. Women are not
romantic, they pretend to be, but prefer to marry
a man who can look after their children regardless if
the man are the real fathers or not, because a man
will accept a foundling in the name of love.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Pretty Beautiful
Beautiful rainbow
Its colourful style
If only upside down
Reminds me of your smile
Beautiful Sunset
It made me stare
Rich in bright goldness
Reminds me of your hair
Beautiful Moon
Shining from space
Shining so bright
Reminds me of your face
Beautiful Stars
Filling the sky
Luminously glowing
Reminds me of your eyes
Beautiful Guitar
Sweet acoustic melodies
Its perfect toned curves
Reminds me of your body
Beautiful Night
Filled with twinkling stars
Reminds me of.
How pretty you are!
poem by Le Tu Quang
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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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A Glow Worm and A Firefly
Dressed up for the mating night,
Never known it's for two weeks delight,
Rolled and sucked all alive under the earth,
The small lights even in the eggs, glow under the dark.
Meditated through many seasons to mature,
After pupating the single eyes become compounded,
The missing wings left the females on the ground,
The wingless flight to the height, emitting luminescence.
Sending specific patterned signal to the mate in the filth,
On the banks of the river and top of the trees,
Thousands of male little lanterns hungry for love,
Equally mad glowworms send the specific light of memo.
The joyous moment and union confirm the continuation,
Of species that mesmerize the human to merriment.
One wicked glowworm, hungry for nutrients,
She sent the signal to lure the lovelorn male.
When a male firefly was drowned in stupor,
picked up the responding signal from a potential mother,
but She caught, ate and stored enough protein,
To produce more eggs and show off the cruel charm.
When they fly as the little stars they can be caught,
When they burn the chemical with enzyme with no heat,
When they look for the mate from the upper ground,
The feeling is great to everyone who can witness.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Being Lost In Cloudy Skies
it is the longing
denied
that these eyes
inflict pain upon
its macular
hole
it is this darkness
that is missing light
it is this
denial that presses
truth to the
edge
banging its head
against
the unprecedented
wall
the thoughts
fly upon its big
black wings
beak pointing to
a landscape
in that dream
clouds hang
fold upon layers and layers
blurring
the vision of
your destination
it cannot go back
it has no option but to
move and fly some more
it cannot fall
its feet cut by the sharp
edges of the winds
it finally becomes
an illusion
dissolving in flight
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Clap your wings Butterfly
Clap your wings
Butterfly, Butterfly
Clap your wings
Flutter by and fly
Your rainbow flower skin.
Strikes out glaringly beautiful in the sun
Whenever you take off the land and run
Your delicate beauty alone is breathtaking
Beautiful feelings inside of me keep awaking
When you clap your wings and fly
Butterfly sing with me
Beneath any tree
Clap your wings
Flap your wings
Flutter by and fly
Let's look up to the skies
Together on a lovely summer day
Before you decide to say goodbye!
2006 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Flight of Quest
God gave me da wings of observation,
I thanked to God for this reward,
He gave me desire to fly,
I flew around da world,
With da joy of flight,
But I got sorrowful winds,
Black clouds in every swing,
People with smile,
But pain in hearts,
Meeting hands but not dere hearts,
Deceiving others to flourish themselves,
Meeting hands but lacking warmth,
With the hearts lacking da beat,
Eyes full of expectations,
Lips glued to speak da truth,
Deceiving da one who wants da love,
Da warmth of heart,
Da warmth of hand,
Considering da other to be spare part,
Utilizing when first tans,
.....
I flew with da filled eyes,
For da quest of sincerity,
For da quest of love,
For da quest of friendship,
But what I found worthful,
A snake showman,
Closing da snake box,
By saying them up,
Humans r dere to bit others,
......
My wings broke,
I said to God,
Burn da wings I couldn't resist,
Smiled and said,
That’s distinct an angel,
From da school of humans!
It’s up to u,
Take legs
Or
Take wings! ! ! ! !
poem by Arshia Mukhtar
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Shadow of my Spirit
Shadows appear and disappear-
Faces behind trees are looking and I never knew,
I never believed in closeness being safe and
Eyes opened towards the sky were said to
Perhaps be taking in the beauty of the cherry blossoms or
Following the pathway of the wild geese in flight-
That is what they say and I would never ask because
Eyes opened to the sky are only open momentarily until
They are cast downward, downward ogling the pathway of my footsteps?
Shadows appear and disappear and faces I don't know
Are none but a threat as the pathway of their eyes
Follow the direction that I walk and I never knew, and
I never believed in closeness being safe-
My eyes are opened towards the sky
Only taking in the spirit of my soul
Dancing someplace in the heavens hoping
That this pathway I walk is a safe place to be?
Shadows appear and disappear and
Even when shadows disappear-
I still believe that all eyes are upon me-
Wild geese in flight and blossoming flowers
Can be beautiful to see but they have no souls-
My soul, my spirit lives deep inside my inner core and
It never felt safe and still to this day
Feels like a raging animal locked inside of a cage
Unable to escape? Unable to escape a body on the run-
On the run from a world that only wishes me harm-
My dream has always been to set my spirit free and to
Become a bird and lift my wings to fly high above
In the sky, journeying through the clouds and to touch the sun,
Then find a safe place where no one could take my thoughts away-but
As a bird I find myself with broken wings, and my own shadow is cast upon the ground
Pilfered by evil people who capture my thoughts within their sinister grasps and
This world is not my home-shadows appear and disappear- my own included-
I can see it upon the gravel pathway lying still- I wait until it disappears and
I find myself alone-alone and safe- a bird with broken wings who has lost her shadow but
I am safe in my solitude and when all shadows disappear, I finally have nothing to fear-
My eyes are opened to the sky watching the wild geese in flight-
They have nothing to fear, soaring high up in the sky and they can escape reality as
Their wings are not broken and blossoming flowers may be beautiful and they remain safe because God did not give them spirits to feel the fear?
poem by Claudia Krizay
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I Met An Angel
I stopped and stood in amusement,
Searching wings I found none,
Did my eyes deceive my thoughts,
Such eyes in history I never read,
Such beauty in life I never met,
Behold, I saw an angel
Your long legs so pefect and pure,
My eyes your body did steal,
Was it one of those haluccinations,
Did I live an imagination,
I believe my eyes, I saw no illusion
Behold, I saw an angel
The words she spoke lit the fire,
Her breath made me shiver,
Lost in a moment of found beauty,
Can I come closer,
The question of a tempted man,
Losing all the glory,
Finding all the memory,
She was the opposite of surreal,
Yet the surreal of all oppisites,
Behold, I saw an angel
Your eyes, the beacon of all glory,
Your lips, the replica of perfection,
Your legs, so marubic is you angel,
Your smile, dont make the men wet,
Close your mouth beautiful one,
The weak might dropp their jaws,
I saw you and I knew,
Behold, I saw an angel
Before you my breath is vanity,
After you my thoughts, infinity,
In your sight men find no calamity,
Its who you are and how you are,
Such beauty no words can describe,
The wise melt with their futile wisdom,
The intelligent faint with their intel,
The poets bubble in tautology,
Im a witness, I met an angel
poem by Gaylord Munemo
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A Butterflys Life
A butterfly flutters
its wings of delight
in the soft gentel breeze
it flickers to life
its colours like rainbows
flash briefly for a day
in fields full of colours
they spread wings
and fly away
they hover in midflight
it finds its mate for life
and they become one
in the midsummer sun
then together they climb
dazzling, turning
Ecstasy of delight
climaxing on high
impregnating new life
then finding a leaf
to lay down their eggs
flutter drifting
from flower to leaf
exhausted from joining
they slowly flutter down
and glide together
with one final flight
and there they lay
both colours so bright
slowly fade into
Mother Natures
garden of life
poem by Kaila George
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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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Human With Flaws
All I am
Is a human with flaws
You can't change me
You can't me no
And you can't erase my problems
Just a human with flaws?
I guess, this sounds
Normal
There is a person
Behind the flaws
Can you see her?
She's beautiful
Smart, Happy... Perfect
But no one sees her
Do they?
So, yes, all I am
is a human with flaws
But everyone can change
And so can I
poem by Alyssa Ray
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A Complication
it is your eyes, the problem points
to the sensitivity of your eyes to
beauty, what is seen is always beautiful
and touch seems to be
not just the craving of the fingers
those hands keep on groping and
holding on to someone else's body
perfumed neck and soft white skin
poems that run all over a woman's body
and feeling what it takes to reach
the apex of the skies, revolting and
exploding, and bursting forth in the
so many hues, love oh love, love
on top of love, and love searching
for the perfect orgasmic affection,
what a night! ~`~ ~ ~
corrugated moans like an art of
wrought iron on the rails of the
upper floor, there the stars are kissing
the full moon and the sky is so silent
filled with understanding about love
and its erogenous doings, unbreaking...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Butterfly Dreams
Oh to be a butterfly and flutter my wings by your check
To have you admire me as I glide by your beautiful smile
To land upon your shoulder and watch you breathe
Oh to hear your voice sweetly recite
as you versed with magic tones
I would fly within your view
And from your sweet, sweet lips you would say,
Beautiful butterfly how I wish this night you were real
So I could hold you in my arms and love you always
Then the words would spin
My wings caught up in the twirl
And before your eyes…
I would be in human form
in your arms, forever more
poem by Patricia Gale
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Coconut Grove
She carries her body
like a swing of delights
i got wings too
and i carry my body like
a coconut palm
she will find comfort in my
shade
and my wings shall cover
her body
she becomes a smooth sand
wrapping my body
i am a tree and she will always
be a swing to me.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Did My Eyes Deceive
Should I see an optician, doubt
Should I seek a visionary, doubt
Should I find a seer, great doubt
She was flawless and perfect, no doubt
Was it beauty or elegance, both
Did my eyes deceive, never
Should I seek an illusionist, never
Can i call the prophets, never
Will the elders define, never
Is it a miracle of miracles, never
Did my eyes deceive, never
She was wonderfully made,
I desire the hands of the Creator,
Fashioning an embodiment of beauty,
A perfect replica of reality,
I saw greatness in the creativity,
Resisting all sources of ambiguity,
It is true, i saw beauty,
Did my eyes deceive, never
Beauty through the paparazzi,
I defined it on snaparazzi,
Before it in reality i can paint,
Exhausted to the bone, i will faint,
Pure in heart and mind,
To erase the thoughts I tried,
Did my eyes deceive, never
She fell in love with my eyes,
She was always with my heart,
Yet she was never in my heart,
It was the reflection of fate,
It was never late,
I told her she was beautiful,
My eyes believed she was grateful,
My heart I doubted it to be faithful,
Yet being with her, i was hopeful,
Yet my eyes still doubtful,
Did my deceive, never
Was it makeup or otherwise,
The wonders of the makers of beauty,
Or the foxy look of artificiality,
Did my eyes deceive, no they didnt,
I saw an Angel, so rare but true
poem by Gaylord Munemo
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Body To Body
Body, body, bo-bo-bo-body, body
Body to body
Body to body
Body to body
Nobody does it like you do
Body to body
I love the way you make me feel
When you do what youre doing to me, oh
Touching me the way you do, you know, know youve got to feel it too
When you bodys next to mine, youve got me hypnotized
Body to body
Body to body
You know I like the way you do what you do when you do it to me, oh
Body to body
Nobody does it like you do
Body to body
You know I like what you do when you do what you do to me, no
Oh, what you do
Flowing through this magic night
I love to feel you hold me tight
You are the one thats right for me
You got me feeling tingaly
Share the night with stars above
I think Ive found this thing called love
Fever running through your eyes
You are my heavenly device
Body to body
Body to body
Body to body nobody does it like you do
Body to body
You know I like what you do when you do what you do to me, no
Oh, what you do
You opened up the world to me
You changed my life so tenderly
I know you are the only one
Youre brighter than the burning sun
Dont know where youre going to
I dont care as long as Im with you
That certain sparkle in your eyes
Has got me feeling oh so high
Body to body
Body to body
Body to body
Body to body
I like what you do when you do all those things to me
Body to body....
song performed by by Gloria Estefan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Self-Portrait in Shoulder Stand
Old bag of bones
upside down,
what are you searching for
in poetry,
in meditation?
The mother you never had?
The child in you
that you did not conceive?
Death?
Ease from fear of death?
Revelation?
Dwelling in the house of clouds
where you imagine
you once lived?
'Born alone,
we depart alone.'
Someone said that
during meditation
& I nearly wept.
Oh melancholy lady
behind your clown face,
behind your wisecracks-
how heady it is
to let the ideas rush to your brain!
But even upside down,
you are sad.
Even upside down,
you think of your death.
Even upside down,
you curse the emptiness.
Meditating
on the immobile lotus,
your mind takes flight
like a butterfly
& dabbles in bloodred poppies
& purple heather.
Defying gravity,
defying death,
what makes you think
the body's riddle
is better solved
upside down?
Blood rushes to your head
like images that come too fast
to write.
After a life held in the double grips
of gravity & time,
after a headfirst birth
out of your mother's bowels
& into the earth,
you practice for the next.
You make your body light
so that in time,
feet first,
you will be born
into the sky.
poem by Erica Jong
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September's Birth, In Beautied, As Best.
September's baby is full of heart...
They to be filled with knacks at art.
They stretch towards ways of useful way of words...
They enjoy such as beautiful sights in birds.
September is a day in our life...
Since a day of birth and searching for that one perfect mate-
whether of that one most wanted husband or wife.
September's stone is that of a Saphired in blue...
A great beauty to eyes filled with, so blue in hue.
The sign of the scales will do...
Well due.
poem by Michael Gale
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The Shell....
i once had
a beautiful body
many beg to
touch it
many want to
sleep with me
even without
any responsibility
i look at myself
in the mirror
grateful for this
body
i had conceit
like a prince
of arrogance
time is my enemy
my body wears out
skin is loose
and bones become
brittle
there is a squeak
when i walk
sometimes i
regret having this
body
since i never had
used it
the way others
want it
if they had it
i tell myself
that it would have
been better
if this body
is the body of the
one i love
it would have been
more useful
perhaps lovelier
and i would have
been happier
my body is silent and indifferent
it has no independent mind of its own
it is one of those shells
where the hermit crab dwells
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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