#chrysalis
Butterfly of Virginality \
Spread thy wings, \
& soar. \
Endless night \
Endless day \
Simultaneously \
Entwined, \
Intertwined. \
Forces of Light, \
Forces of Darkness, \
Forces Unseen, \
Coalesce, \
Converge, \
Gather as one, \
For this \
Beauteous moment. \
That a caterpillar \
Might emerge from its chrysalis \
& not give up in the struggle to spread its monarchical wings to soar, \
Reaching heavensward \
Higher than it ever thought it could! \
Oh, But it could dream \
& a dream is more powerful than any words or \
Limitations imposed by reality. \
The Most High God blesses thee \
On this day, \
When you are set free \
From all that binds ye! \
You are set free \
To a fate \
That is much higher \
That is much airier, & much more ethereal than you could have ever imagined! \
To soar upon the Vernal winds \
& reach to \
***** for \
The sempiternal Sun, \
—That is your \
journey, \
That is your \
path. \
Of all fathomed, \
Impossible, \
Yet now it is \
Through the thew, \
Through the sinew, \
Of \
The Spirit: \
Hallowed it is! \
( —Se’ lah)
Mar 11, 2025
Mar 11, 2025 at 12:33 AM UTC
Trapped in flesh encasing the soul
wrapped in cancerous crust
residue of empty fleeting oppressive
carnal thoughts and pleasures
Slowly bound as a fly in a web
Small grains of poison neverending droplets of rain
harmless attractions
Unseen the process
clearly seen the results
Many of these to be trapped in
many pleasures build houses
of pain many webs much poison and a lot of rain
Many days become many
years What is out of sight
still weakens spirit and mind
All experienced in the body
the flesh imprisoning the soul
Trapped in this flesh encasing the soul
a chrysalis in putrid
cancerous crust
SUDDENLY birthed as a New Creation of
spirit and mind made whole
Not perfect but whole
Escaping as a fly from the ensnaring web
one grain of sand small compared to mountain
Small steps of faith
unseen the process
clearly seen the results
Many cocoons to transform
in many steps of faith to
take many webs to avoid
many webs to escape
Much poison to grow
immune to much rain
many days
All experienced
in the body
the metamorphosis of
the soul.
Feb 25, 2025
Feb 25, 2025 at 9:02 AM UTC
A lowly caterpillar
Inching her way to a leaf
She spins her chrysalis
The sun rises and sets many times
But she does not see it
Because she has hidden herself away
In her cocoon
But finally
She begins to emerge
And she is no longer a lowly caterpillar
She has grown wings and can fly away
To a better reality
Sep 11, 2024
Sep 11, 2024 at 6:43 PM UTC
***
***
𓆩⟡𓆪
Swathed in my caution
I search to find my daring
Fire cracks my egg
𓆩⟡𓆪
I've been long since lost
Colours of the creative
Dulled by daily trudge
𓆩⟡𓆪
I hear the wind call
Fearing the might of my wings
Fall before I fly
𓆩⟡𓆪
***
***
Jan 31, 2023
Jan 31, 2023 at 6:07 PM UTC
I am at a crescendo of this mercurially
fervent woe, maimed by the visage of
_smoke and mirrors;_
"a death in chrysalis is to live once again."
Draping into the worn out disheveled
silk, _beautifully withered_
lulled by the sound of riverbanks
as if it's pacifying the feral.
A star-lit eyes deluged with bliss
rose with thorn-teared flesh
overwhelmed by a mawkish melancholia. Although we were haunted by our old love, _it will never be the same_.
Oct 9, 2022
Oct 9, 2022 at 12:05 AM UTC
I followed the vestiges of your footsteps,
everything is a chrysalis of memories and forgetting.
It was you,
who unfolds a life halfway through my existence; I wish I wasn't there in your forgetting.
Jul 8, 2021
Jul 8, 2021 at 9:52 PM UTC
these words fail
to capture any such real emotions
we talk and we talk, sure
but you can't feel my anger
frustration, my sadness
left to wonder
in a wander
through the maze that is the mind
with pen put to paper
the characters resemble more inkblots than letters
and so
yielding myself to the misery self-induced
that has, as of yet, only ate at the heels
my chrysalis burst
but no winged thing emerge
only pus, bubbling out my pupa
Nov 27, 2020
Nov 27, 2020 at 4:16 PM UTC
4 years... Daily fears. why do I stay?
because tomorrow brings another day.
Strong to survive this nightmare
Though nothing about it's fair
counter each negative with a positive
I've always been a leader, now, submissive
ready to reemerge, rebuild, and reclaim
wasting this precious life would be a shame.
Apr 15, 2020
Apr 15, 2020 at 5:26 PM UTC
Crawling. I've been crawling. Down in the dirt on my abdomen. Searching for a tree to cling to. To hang from upside down. To take a step into the chrysalis. To be born a new.
This skin I wear, encases me. When I've moulted I will be free. I will escape the confounds of bone and flesh. Of time and space. Of birth and death.
When I pass. When I pass through this knot. The knot in the infinite line of things. I will pass through biology, enter into a state beyond. Beyond our senses. Beyond our limitations. With nothing to gravitate towards.
The butterfly, it calls to me. My day is coming, it will be free.
It's been inside of me. Been here all along. Waiting to come out.
I am not the skin I wear. I am not the title I bear. I am, I am!
We're all larva. We all got butterflies inside of us. Come and crawl with me. Get down on your abdomen. We're gonna find a tree. To hang from, and set the butterfly free.
Apr 19, 2019
Apr 19, 2019 at 7:07 PM UTC
Like caterpillars that rise
to the bliss of the blue skies
from the chrysalis of mortality
on the wings of the fairy butterflies,
we leave the shackles of your body
to embrace its kindred souls of dust, and
migrate to eternity’s solemn splendour.
Are we afraid?
are we afraid to explore the skies of eternity ?
Sep 18, 2018
Sep 18, 2018 at 12:15 PM UTC
To my good friend, Sue
Stay safe in your chrysalis
I'll be here waiting
Keep your mind on you
I'll stay true to the promise
to write for us both
You are not alone
You are a kind and sweet soul
So regenerate
In your chrysalis
I will await in its glow
and for it to crack
The winds will sing sweet
And the Northern Lights will dance
And you will emerge
Shining, born again
With strong, bright, velveteen wings
With love as armour
With all your wounds healed
And all your scars now faded
And we see you smile
I know you'll come through
People may have struck you down
But you weren't destroyed
To my good friend, Sue
My hand's on your chrysalis
Just know I am here
Jul 20, 2018
Jul 20, 2018 at 4:03 PM UTC
thump, thump
his heart knocked my cheek
and softly, I heard it speaks
about one's love in chrysalis
waiting in time to be released
Apr 8, 2016
Apr 8, 2016 at 2:18 PM UTC
Help me to know
that this hunger
is not personal.
This form that
holds my soul
is more delicate
these days,
but the mind
is also clearer.
Help me to be
patient, help
me to trust
what comes.
Oct 23, 2015
Oct 23, 2015 at 5:09 PM UTC
Tea taming the light
Misty magic
Crawls up the spine
Birds through the looking glass
She opened the book
Absorbing every page
Each chapter a gateway
Musing on those she knew;
Represented by numbers
Individual, yet all the same
Your days are a never ending struggle
Rare in and of themselves
Bringing trouble;
Dog eared rationale
We seekers of solace
Take refuge in books
Understanding
Demanding
The next installment;
Flooding our lives
with fantasies
Cocooned
In our chrysalis
Reading brings change
And knowledge
From page to page
We analyse
Plot, scene, age
Apply the theatre to our lives
And sit, thinking for a while
Read between the lines
Crime, thriller, romance
Happenstance
That could be our lives
Yet sky so grey
Overcast
Reprimanding
We sit, dreaming...
Some day.
Jun 17, 2015
Jun 17, 2015 at 11:42 AM UTC
I hated him, that slimy, stupid, putrid drunk. His ***** brown hair was crusted with the stink of old hairspray. Half-closed eyes ran red. His body flabby, with frequent bouts of flatulence. I watched him drink himself dumb, slobbering in his stupidity, succoring on his self-entitled rage. Anger and depression made him into a slurring mongrel. Contempt turned him into a raving lunatic. Many nights he held court with the mirror, glaring fiercely as if his reflection was an opponent to be destroyed.
That said, He did have some good qualities. Little lights that glowed in certain special moments. I saw them more times than I could count. Many times he would give his last dollar to a stranger in need. There were quite a few times he picked up strangers and gave them a ride. When winter came he would shovel the driveways and sidewalks of the elderly for free.
Still, this list was not enough to satiate my rage. Perhaps part of my disdain came from the ill words of others. Meanness wearing the guise of kind criticism stirred my fury further. The resentment I bore him was too great. Thus, after another night of his drunken behavior, after another bout of self-indulgent whining and threats of suicide. I slit his throat.
Blood bubbled from his neck as he struggled to remain standing. Red liquid rained down enveloping his throat then partially covering his chest. Then a thin string of red lights exploded from the wound. Each line jerking the neck in a different direction as it sought its connection. The thud of these lines hitting the walls and sticking solidly echoed in the living room.
He screamed with a rage. The kind that I had never heard before. The bubbling blood choked him into silence as it began to thicken. More crimson liquid oozed out and down the writhing figure. He was struggling so hard, which I found so amusing. Flakes of coagulated blood chipped off and settled on the puke colored carpet. The sharp strands of red vibrated and tightened as if they were trying to cease his agitated struggles.
After an hour of this strange horror show the blood stopped flowing, he stopped moving, and all that seemed to be left was a massive black, brown, and dark red cocoon. In the distance music played, songs of love, community, and social justice reverberated through the dingy house.
After several days the cocoon started to shiver and glow. Flecks of the clotted blood crumbled and fell to the floor, this time at an alarming rate. After another day the cocoon cracked and began disintegrating even faster.
It took another three or four hours till a figure emerged. Then he was back. The object of my disgust returned. However, he had changed. His eyes were no long weary or drunk red. His hair was smooth and silky, though still brown, it lacked that old stinky quality. His body had shrunk and hardened. I think I saw a small cotton tail, But the most striking change was the calmness.
When he spoke, poetry flowed from his lips. His new demeanor sang more of compassion then anger. Something had changed. Something was new. Old bitterness had almost completely faded. The anguish had been replaced with a hopeful grin.
As I stared into the mirror I knew I would never see that dark fool again. There was no more self-loathing only honest introspection.
Nov 24, 2014
Nov 24, 2014 at 1:56 PM UTC
do you reminisce,
as you spread your wings?
of a quiescent chrysalis,
that sits and swings?
or is it all bliss
your freedom brings?
beautiful butterfly,
when did you know?
did y'know why?
or did you just let it flow?
was it a solemn goodbye?
or a happy hello?
Feb 1, 2014
Feb 1, 2014 at 12:11 AM UTC
Your words crawled through my auditory cortex like caterpillars, preventing me from hearing anything other than the inflection in your deep voice. As your body inched closer to mine, they took residence in my chest cavity, building chrysali that hung off of my ribs making it more and more difficult to inflate my heavy lungs. They cocooned themselves as I too wrapped myself up in you. Suddenly, your lips were on mine and your hands were counting the vertebrae down my back, scaring the insects from their resting place, resulting in chills up my spine. The newly emerged butterflies flew out of my sternum and up into my throat, longing to be closer to you. But then you pulled away and they instantly died, leaving me with a bitter taste in my mouth.
Aug 6, 2014
Aug 6, 2014 at 10:26 PM UTC
A suicide of my best sides,
a homocide, a matricide.
Occupied in nursing
self-inflicted wounds inside
my heart, my soul, my final goal
is near. I tear with nailless claws
at where the door I used to know
was before I tore the hole inside
and so I tried to justify
the single, once perfected try
to go, to fly, escape outside
these walls, these halls
these calls I hear
are tearing at my soul, I lay
and lie and cannot cry.
I swear and curse in sour lines,
but noone knows the pain
experienced inside.
Apr 9, 2014
Apr 9, 2014 at 7:48 AM UTC