Life is like
a butterfly


Wings migrated to this point,
it was just a passenger on this
journey of inspiration.

Exhalations of past moments
carried it upon the many exhibits
of  wonderment befalling its senses.

Fatigued wings collect on delicate
petals, slumbering it awakens to the
ethereal  mirage of beauty before it.

Majestic droplets refracting the
imagery beyond the luminescent
pools of peaceful retrospection.

Fluttering its delicate motivation,
deciding this is the place for it to rest.
For life is moments silently contemplated.

I caught a butterfly, I kept it trapped within a jar,
it soared to the lid; it wasn't high, I never let it go too far.
I caught a butterfly, I wished for it to be my pet,
but without fresh air it was bound to die, a lesson I still forget.

I caught a butterfly, she was grazing over green grass,
together we watch time go by, together we see the days pass.
I caught a butterfly, to this day I still thank my net,
but with too much sun it's wings will fry, a lesson I still forget.

Life is not meant to be,
lived out as on display,
as that butterfly was once me,
now it's another's soul today.

I caught a butterfly, fresh out of her cocoon,
she barely chanced to fly, she never glimpsed sun nor the moon.
I caught a butterfly, I believed it was luck that we met,
but wings waving can mean hello or goodbye, a lesson I still forget.

Life is not meant to be,
locked up and put away,
it belongs with the air of a tree,
under blue skies or grey.

I caught a butterfly, I was excited to show everyone,
what you can grasp if you try, what can actually be done.
I caught a butterfly, and it's life's days are now just a bet,
I can't even look myself in the eye, it's a lesson I can't forget.

Life is not meant to be,
observed from far away,
we all deserve to live free,
and free we all should stay.

Blueish painted butterflies
renewed—but two—as soot cocoons.
Their tapping hues were kindly passed
to swingers (tutti) both attune.
Too red, as dozenth roots of two
ingrained in sound; no thing immune
from an ever-known, ever-asked
cradling of pollen by the moon.

They humiliated me with the strokes of a gentle paintbrush to bruise
Dipped in merciless words painted in shades of raging reds and desperate blues
So I created a caliginous cocoon and hid in its tear soaked pillows for years

And filled my cocon to the brim with wintry tears and whispering fears
Because I wanted to drown my withering soul and ugly body
But I then realized that I wasn’t rotting and nor was my body

I was instead transitioning into a beautiful butterfly
It was time for me to set myself free of this filth
Free of the permanent marker that they covered my white heart with

Because permanent ink isn’t actually permanent
Any spray can easily melt away its persistent ink of resentment
And so I broke out of my comfort zone in peaceful purple wings

And bathed in the rain’s purifying showers
As I scribbled my letter to it on my voice notes sent by the winds.

Medieval Italian lyric style poetry with five or six stanzas and a shorter ending stanza.
Paul Aug 5

Once upon a time, there lived a butterfly.
Big blue wings, like the poetic sky,
With colors beyond any sight.
The butterfly was truly very smart,
He had good grades in butterfly school,
Top degrees and medals for excellent wing moves.
Though when he came out, out of his comfy cocoon,
He found out his medals don’t really help him get through.
Showing his skills, in biology tests,
He now knew, how this will end.
Limited time, so much to see, the pressure was quite unreal.
He tried to see it all, the wonderful sights,
Till it started to rain on the little guy.
So wet, so tired and so fucking stressed.
The butterfly did give his best.
And there he waited, for the rain to stop,
Till it all just went completely dark.
And so the butterfly, never really saw,
The beauties and sights, he read about without stop.
He wasted his time, for better weather,
And now he is just another wet petal.

Davneet kaur Aug 4

Let me sit here and watch you
Let me spend a moment here
To admire your beauty
Let me dive into the depths of your silence
Let me adore you
With each blink I realise
I may miss a glimpse
So let me sit down and watch you all over again.


Butterfly yellow car
This thought won't go far.
Up it drifts. Up.
furthens, beyond.

I'm here.
I am small and my      fears crowd      all of my thoughts.
The monsters        lean in        on my hopes,
  crushing         them and      my energy
as I fall          to my           knees

But at your call,
every           cell in my          body
stands itself      up and marches      forward
knowing I can     do anything,     if you need it.
I will be there for you,           as you           have always been here
for me.

Butterflies flap their wings to escape gravity
Allowing the winds of change to lift them towards peace
like a monk's prayer
Say what you will about this story of humble beginnings
True humility is in the lobe it takes to encourage this journey
through times darker than shade
So I say to my butterfly
Let me be your wind
And always support your flight

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