Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sarah Crispin Jun 2020
What is a moth if not a butterfly
who's traded in her grace and colour
for pitter-patter sighs
Inked nights
To sift shy in shadows
And forever thirst for light
Soft Laughs in Dim lit taverns
Almost winked out flames
She's the tattered mistress of stars
forgotten partaker
Of a lesser praise
Wings of butterfly  

Swallowtails burgundy-green

Leaves on tender stems
Christia  obcordata
Katlyn Orthman Jun 2020
Introspection
Inside inspection
Still spinning
From last nights rejection

Lurching
Illness perching
Mental *******
Why am I still searching?

Alone
Charged stone
Casting spells
I build a spiritual home

Bare
Blank stare
Skin stripped
Are you still there?

Whisper
Word twister
Speak tongues
Static on the radio transmitter

Silence
Internal violence
Ears bleeding
Mind quiet
Bina Mukherjee Jun 2020
One early morning, when I was out in my garden,
I met a gorgeous Monarch butterfly dazzling.
I exclaimed...you are so bright and beaming,
will you help me paint my country with your wings so shining?
We have shades but they are all synthetic!!
I want your colours as they are organic and enduring.

Cyclones, floods and cataclysm have washed-out the beauty of my land..i sighed!
I shall paint your land with my elegant wings...he replied!!
Paint my land with the colours of the tricolour.

The top may be painted with bold saffron.

The pure white colour of yours may then flow through the heart of the land .

My friend, paint the final part with the soothing hue of green.

And at last, splash a colour of your choice to cover up all the dents and fungus that had cropped up in our hearts for so long.
These are our colours..my countrymen must not forget
We are one and we stand united!

The Monarch smilingly said, "I shall do what you say, but promise me to keep them the same as I start painting from today".🦋🦋🦋🦋
Bina Mukherjee
Luna Jun 2020
Crimson Carnations teetering in the porch
Along with the humid air of summertime.

Melodious tweet of cuckoo's at dawn
Stomach filled with hibernated butterflies.

I never believed in love at first sight
Cross my heart and hope to die.

But looking at you for the first time
Your mysterious eyes made me believe all the myths.

And all my hibernated butterflies
You make them wonder
"How it feels to fly!".
Asif Iqbal Jun 2020
He doesn’t know why he did that,
He doesn’t know why he stabbed
The bluebird in his rib cage (1)
And let it pour crimson regret. (2)
He doesn’t know how he concealed
The congealed rubies within
And wore a borrowed smile
When his soul screamed, (3)
When that love struggled to strangle
With its choppy fingers (4)
And gave ghastly nightmares
Even in broad and bright daylight
And turned his mind
Into a hopeless battlefield
Soaked with tincture of iodine,
Where like a merciless enemy
He fought against his own self,
Where like a fatally wounded warrior
Tired of ceaseless fight
He craved for eternal sleep.
He doesn’t know why somewhere
A butterfly flapped its wings; (5)
He doesn’t know why he did that,
He doesn’t know why he laid his eyes on
Cecilia.
1.There's a bluebird in my heart
That wants to get out but I'm too tough
I say: "Stay in there
I'm not going to let anybody see"
___'Bluebird' by Charles Bukowski

2. "I tried to **** the pain
But only brought more
(So much more)
I lay dying
And I'm pouring, crimson regret, and betrayal"
___Tourniquet by Evanescence

3. " I painted this picture, painted the clouds as actual blood. The color shrieked. This became The Scream"
___Edvard Munch

4. "By each at once her choppy finger laying
Upon her skinny lips: you should be women,
And yet your beards forbid me to interpret
That you are so."
___Macbeth Act 1 Scene III (line 44-47)

5. Butterfly effect: In chaos theory, the butterfly effect is the sensitive dependence on initial conditions in which a small change in one state of a deterministic nonlinear system can result in large differences in a later state.
Next page