The Life Of A Firefly
cool, quick
rolling, streaming past
bright and sombre
the last of the fireflies
soft, pink hand
cup around
capture contain
the last of the fireflies
poem by Adelaida Castillo
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Soft Kissing Eureka Moment Days
been writing my fireflies
fireflies always buzz my mind
illuminating my solo nights
soft kissing eureka moment days
shall I share my dear enchantment fireflies
as fireflies dance through my mind
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Spiders And Fireflies
It is July,
Where have all the fireflies gone?
The fireflies from my childhood,
The ones that used to amuse me,
The ones I used to chase,
and capture,
and make my own.
I guess they symbolize the
Innocence from my Childhood,
and I guess,
They have ran off with the
Innocence from my Childhood.
Now I'm overwhelmed with spiders.
Everywhere I turn,
There's another spider at my back.
Where did they come from?
Where did the fields go,
that I once captured fireflies in?
poem by Carey Noelle
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What The Fireflies Must Mean
according to Urias
the fireflies
are the ideas that we let
go on a dark night
and they fly
and we do not
catch them
they must go
searching
for other fireflies
their own kind
of flashes
and blinkings
we are here
watching them
in amazement
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Natures Firefly
Fireflies in the rose garden
Evenings cover a blanket of black
Locked securely over the galaxy
To the moon and all the way back;
Mirrored in the storms images
Dancing in droplets before my eyes
Unfolding in a glimmer-shimmer...
Are the brillant fireflies;
Hovering over a moistened leaf...
Lightening flashes upon shadowed lanes
Near to the lakes showered landing...
Come fireflies in the rain;
By: Theodora Onken
December 14,2011
poem by Theodora Onken
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the fireflies of Puerto P.
we take the boat at night
the sea is having its low tide
we are going to the place where the fireflies are mating
we trace the rivers like blood to our veins
the moon has not come at that hour
the trees along the banks are mere shadows
the fireflies are all there
glistening like stars in the heavens
there is so much silence
what we can hear is only the sound of the boat sliding on the river
i've seen for once the magic of their lights
and there i am but a mere shadow against the trees
the journey towards my childhood begins
where Papa trapped all of them inside a jar for us to marvel
how life gives light and how quick shall death take it.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Monologue 1
it was only last night
that i noticed that there were
only two fireflies
lighting the mahogany tree
the other day
they cut the chico
for they need firewood
the little boy once told his mother
that a white fairy lives there
what is the point?
the white fairy owns the tree
and it is only the little boy who believes about this
the chico tree is where the fireflies
sleep in the morning
two fireflies have not accepted
that their dwelling is gone
now they entertain the illusion
that the mahogany
could still be the chico tree
in their own minds.
that is what the legend is.
and you may not believe it.
now that boy does not believe
in white fairies anymore.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Fireflies Of Love
Fireflies of Love.
Summer by the river of temptation,
vinyl records and turntable gramophone
songs about love and longings.
Naive lyric, but for our young hearts it
had a deep meaning.
Passion like fireflies filled the air, the aroma
of grass and the scent of green leaves,
enchantment and adoration.
Nothing is like first love, alas it never lasts
and like fireflies, disappear at first light.
Liver spotted hands turn the pages of memories,
shiny leaves of youth clear as the river and
undimmed by middle-aged cynicism.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Fireflies On A Tree
there are no stars tonight
but there are fireflies
teemng the leaves of
this tree
in darkness
o wo wo wo
the fireflies
are mimicking stars
but in inferior flickers
substituting
real twinkles
the tree in the dark
now begins
to look like
the Milky Way Galaxy
and look at you
you are nothing
but an atom
vibrating
making some assurance
that you are still
alive
in this mimicry
of the universe
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Pink Pink
pink pink
Confirmed that it was armed
pink pink
Was right to be alarmed
pink pink
Ensured that nought was harmed
pnk pink
Steady hand and mind
pink pink
Micro-chip designed
pink pink
The password was declined
pink pink
Another course to take
pink pink
Caution not to shake
pink pink
Captivity a mistake
pink pink
Beads upon the brow
pink pink
Experience the how
pink pink
No chance to turn back now
pink pink
Be certain not to slip
pink pink
One last wire to snip
pink pink
Two hearts that skip a beat
penk penk
The sound that gives a lift
penk penk
Time to collect the gift
penk penk
The robbery will be swift
poem by Chris Dawson
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Ramblings
You cannot lock the door
Now, night shall open it
For fireflies to come in
They slept in hiding
Like you, fireflies fly away
Pallid cowards from rain
Lest their lights die in the mist
You wait by the door
As true stars come again
Lighting night skies
My Fireflies shall reveal
Inferior flickers under
The now, brimming
Skies bursting
II.
How many full moons passed
Past your sad window?
Your fingers cannot tell
They’re used to gripping
Rusty doorknobs
A great deal to ancestry
Our human hands corroded
We cannot reach nor outrun
Rust becomes us
III.
If we listen to dawn dreams
We shall hear prophets scream
Nothing
To a mutter
One speaks of the underworld so endless
Unmoving as the sky stretches a distance of lies
No farther
Or it will break
There are no skies no caves
No edges no space
Nothing
To whisper
IV.
We are shooting stars in space
Shot into nothing
Yet we keep on shooting
For the moment
We close down
We set strong feet on land
Like steel gates stilled
We look into our eyes
Tears are dwindling
Thus far, we cannot cease fearing
For nothing
V.
There is God
As the world keeps ears
For each earthworm in the void
He shall hear us
Shouting the questions
Dinning,
Rocking the ruckus of cumulus
In this outcry
He shall know us
By eyes and mouth
By hand by footprints
And the grasses covering all
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Night Murmurs
1. You cannot lock the door
Now, night shall open it
For fireflies to come in
They slept in hiding
Like you, fireflies fly away
Pallid cowards from rain
Lest their lights die in the mist
You wait by the door
As true stars come again
Lighting night skies
My Fireflies shall reveal
Inferior flickers under
The now, brimming
Skies bursting
II.
How many full moons passed
Past your sad window?
Your fingers cannot tell
They’re used to gripping
Rusty doorknobs
A great deal to ancestry
Our human hands corroded
We cannot reach nor outrun
Rust becomes us
III.
If we listen to dawn dreams
We shall hear prophets scream
Nothing
To a mutter
One speaks of the underworld so endless
Unmoving as the sky stretches a distance of lies
No farther
Or it will break
There are no skies no caves
No edges no space
Nothing
To whisper
IV.
We are shooting stars in space
Shot into nothing
Yet we keep on shooting
For the moment
We close down
We set strong feet on land
Like steel gates stilled
We look into our eyes
Tears are dwindling
Thus far, we cannot cease fearing
For nothing
V.
There is God
As the world keeps ears
For each earthworm in the void
He shall hear us
Shouting the questions
Dinning,
Rocking the ruckus of cumulus
In this outcry
He shall know us
By eyes and mouth
By hand by footprints
And the grasses covering all
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Fireflies and Summer Nights
At ten I caught fireflies
in the Chicago night
cupping them in my hands
giving them to you
where we watched them
twinkle away
above us
indistinguishable from the stars.
The next day you took me
to see the butterflies
land
to drink the Flower's Ambrosia-
their wings gently swaying.
My hamster got to know you on sight
and squealed when you snuck into my room;
you would feed him sunflower seeds;
he took them staring
lovingly at you.
That summer
on your grandparents farm
you showed me how to position a horseshoe
for each nail driven;
where each day we rode the fences
counting the cows
to be sure
no one was missing.
We were a little family then
boy and girl
mare and stallion
clopping along
by the little brook
coming back
each day
sitting supper.
One day your
grandfather whispered to me
'Did you kiss her yet? '
I stammered and didn't answer
and he said
'Well what are you waiting for?
I know my granddaughter
just like her grandmother
she'd like a little kiss.'
Down state Illinois had fireflies too
and I punched holes in the top of a peanut butter jar
with 25 fireflies inside
who illuminated that first kiss-
yours and mine;
when the jar lid came open
the fireflies flew
some landing in your hair
twinkling and blinking.
I took them out one by one
setting them free
my face close to your face
and I kissed you again
pressing close
an
Eternal Memory
Now
and
Then.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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60
night murmurs
1. You cannot lock the door
Now, night shall open it
For fireflies to come in
They slept in hiding
Like you, fireflies fly away
Pallid cowards from rain
Lest their lights die in the mist
You wait by the door
As true stars come again
Lighting night skies
My Fireflies shall reveal
Inferior flickers under
The now, brimming
Skies bursting
II.
How many full moons passed
Past your sad window?
Your fingers cannot tell
They’re used to gripping
Rusty doorknobs
A great deal to ancestry
Our human hands corroded
We cannot reach nor outrun
Rust becomes us
III.
If we listen to dawn dreams
We shall hear prophets scream
Nothing
To a mutter
One speaks of the underworld so endless
Unmoving as the sky stretches a distance of lies
No farther
Or it will break
There are no skies no caves
No edges no space
Nothing
To whisper
IV.
We are shooting stars in space
Shot into nothing
Yet we keep on shooting
For the moment
We close down
We set strong feet on land
Like steel gates stilled
We look into our eyes
Tears are dwindling
Thus far, we cannot cease fearing
For nothing
V.
There is God
As the world keeps ears
For each earthworm in the void
He shall hear us
Shouting the questions
Dinning,
Rocking the ruckus of cumulus
In this outcry
He shall know us
By eyes and mouth
By hand by footprints
And the grasses covering all
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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While Someone Telephones
Wasted, wasted minutes that couldn't be worse,
minutes of a barbaric condescension.
--Stare out the bathroom window at the fir-trees,
at their dark needles, accretions to no purpose
woodenly crystallized, and where two fireflies
are only lost.
Hear nothing but a train that goes by, must go by, like tension;
nothing. And wait:
maybe even now these minutes' host
emerges, some relaxed uncondescending stranger,
the heart's release.
And while the fireflies
are failing to illuminate these nightmare trees
might they not be his green gay eyes.
poem by Elizabeth Bishop
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Searching...
The darkness of my existance is blinding,
In the distance fireflies dance amidst the dark,
A flickering light in the bleakness of the abyss,
Lighting up the nothing that I have become,
Yet they are not fireflies but the lanterns of others,
They light up the blackness of my horizon,
Calling to me through the darkness,
When shall the lantern I seek set aflame my heart?
I know not what I seek for I am empty,
I have traveled decades throughout this life,
Searching for something others seem to find so easily,
Searching... Yet finding nothing...
Spread the love... The peace will follow...
poem by Cosmic Dreamer
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Fireflies
Oh to catch some flreflies
and put them in a jar,
makes me feel I've capture light
and am now distant and far
from eternal darkness of the night
when the clouds cover the moon.
To see you flicker before my eyes
I see eternity and where it lies.
For the tiniest flash that you give
brings to mind of where we live
in a world of mystery, a world of grace,
a sweet reminder for the human race
To connect itself and not keep at bay
all of the brightness beyond the day.
Bring back the days when you were a child
cupping your hands and running wild
to capture your prize of fireflies
and let their glow light up your eyes.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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A Mumble....
how i wish to be just everything
a tree full of leaves where some stars hang out tonight
or just fireflies if there be no stars
that will suffice or if there are no fireflies at all
perhaps a candlelight
a lonely candle put upon one of its roots
or if there be none at all
no tree or leaf or ground
or worm
i still just wish that i be everything in that nothing
a space
an echo a dust a wind
i just want to dissipate in everything that comes my way
a memory of you in a minute
or just a crumpled paper
a dew that dries up in air
a mark on the leaf
a scratch of the stone
a left over moss
i just want to have an image of myself
something to think about
for the meantime that you are not here
i simply want to explode
scatter
till no one finds me here
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Summer's Night
THE night is dewy as a maiden's mouth,
The skies are bright as are a maiden's eyes,
Soft as a maiden's breath the wind that flies
Up from the perfumed bosom of the South.
Like sentinels, the pines stand in the park;
And hither hastening, like rakes that roam,
With lamps to light their wayward footsteps home,
The fireflies come stagg'ring down the dark.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Gestures
A killer moon
blinks
in a mating dance.
Smothered by kisses
frugal night
seethes with anger.
In synchronized,
house of limbs -;
the pink underside.
Fireflies
lost the way
between light and dark.
Of sunflowers
and a nude
lies a tale.
poem by Satish Verma
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Assorted Sounds Of Existence...
you must have heard the
cymbals
and the sounds of the broken
glasses
the rolling coins on the floor
the snap of the guitar
string
a tap on the wall
someone makes the signals
a pebble on the
glass window
the wings of the fireflies
tired of the
lights
eclectic, all sorts,
everything, what do you really
love to hear?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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