"cacoons" poems
79 cacoons
Landed on leather rocks.
Brieanna, you still ******
******
******
******
******
Feb 18, 2014
Feb 18, 2014 at 11:29 AM UTC
You were losing your ****
Over some stupid homework
(*"No, not homework, study!
You need to study too!"*)
You were unaware
That I had been sulking
About a body
Not matching a mind
I was paralysed in my bed
And you were helpfully telling me
All about my laziness
All about my life
Or there lack of
Well, I haven't been motivated
To do much lately
Other than ransack my room
For possible compressors
But in the end
You only wanted
To compress my mind
My "mindset"
You say that you love me
And you believe yourself
But do I?
Oh, of course I do
But I can not tell you
How good it feels
To hear them say my name
And mean it
It rolls off of his tongue
Skips out of her lips
And I feel at peace
I feel at home
Funny how I feel the least at home
With family
But what's a family without love?
Unconditional love?
If you love me
Let me go
I promise that I will return
As long as you let me blossom
You see
You fell in love with a caterpillar
Mistook it for a worm
I'm tired of being so pink
It's time to set me free
Cacoons can not be paused
They're created with a purpose
I'm afraid that this time
The changes are irreversible
Yes, I am going to change
But when that butterfly appears
Before your tear-filled eyes
You must realise
That it's still me
Mar 30, 2015
Mar 30, 2015 at 7:42 PM UTC
woke up next to you, feeling like a ice pop
kissed your vermilion border, gave you my half of the sheets
you whispered in my ear, "no, i want you to be warm"
grabbed your jacket and placed it on my frame
youre so sweet like 2 stevia packets emptied onto a tongue
lemons and oranges couldnt be squeezed as good as your huggies
that one night, in my room, under the blacklight
my jokes were corny but i saw that paperwhite smile glow
along with your hippie acid tripping mushroom posters
remember when we ate out those few times
it made me happy when you enjoyed your food
i liked it when you enjoyed anything
those sparkling eyes your face carried always sunk me in deep
like an anchor approaching the ocean floor on top of hills that are really steep
when you were inside of me, yeah yeah at first it hurt
then it progressed like my grades in junior high
but id like to not see you go now
double negative,i cant not see you anymore
it felt right, you felt left, so you left
just like the leaves depart from december 21st branches
you should be back soon and i'll wait
when you return, could we remake a copy of our last copulation?
in the backseat of your car or mine if i eventually get one
in your bed or even my own
behind the open house party next to that tree
me on top or you on top of me
link your pinky to my pinky and promise that youll stay
just a little longer so we can grow for a bit
so we can be cacoons and become butterflies together
you can be high all the time, in the sky i prefer
Sep 25, 2011
Sep 25, 2011 at 9:55 PM UTC
A squeak in the night
the molasses sky muting the silver stars
As they fell
one
by
one
onto the hard packed earth where we lay
unspoken words smarting in the darkness
lips flushed red with promises broken
and lies spread as thin as lip balm.
Their ungainly flight to escape
became a sharp distraction to my muddled emotions as they woke
one
by
one
to the smothered chirps of the baby birds.
Alone and abandoned
they mirrored my cries for help
and gently with hands accustomed to flesh not feathers
We gathered the small bodies in cacoons of towel.
A small barrier from the stalking squirrel
prowling the midnight branches.
Small ******* fluttering in panic
We soothed
and spoke in soft utterances
in contrast with our wheeling minds
and the rescue of three little lives
cleared the garbled words we choked on
until we could meet
clear gaze
clear hearts.
The soft whisper of the wind
carried away our pain.
And as the baby birds pleas faded to contented humming
our bodies settled into peace
and our minds into laughter
and love was once again
a precious gift
Feb 11, 2016
Feb 11, 2016 at 2:45 AM UTC
*Many of them'll tell you not to be afraid
Cause they haven't seen even a leaflet
They don't know the story you've led
And all their imagination drums up is velvet
They'll tell you butterflies jump out cacoons
Because while your life's been a horror
Their's has all but been mere cartoons
So they see hope in the reality mirror
Contrary to the nightmares you've had
All they know is but banquets and roses
And blinded they can't see you're scarred
That you've seen the right path but stuck like Moses
They'll tell you life is a gamble which one wins or stumbles
They can't see the storm in your life or hear the thunder rumbles*
Aug 12, 2015
Aug 12, 2015 at 7:08 PM UTC
woke up next to you, feeling like a ice pop
softly bit your vermilion border, gave you my half of the sheets
you whispered in my ear, "no, i want you to be warm"
grabbed your linen coat and placed it on my medium frame
youre so sweet like 2 stevia packets emptied onto a naked tongue
lemons and oranges couldnt be squeezed as good as your hugs
that one night, in my room, under the blacklight
my jokes were corny but i saw that paperwhite smile glow
along with your hippie acid tripping mushroom posters
remember when we ate out those few times
it made me happy when you enjoyed your food
i liked it when you enjoyed anything
those sparkling eyes your face carried always sunk me in deep
like an anchor approaching the ocean floor on top of hills that are really steep
when you were inside of me, yeah yeah at first it hurt
then it progressed like my grades in junior high
but id like to not see you go now
double negative,i cant not see you anymore
it felt right, you felt left, so you left
just like the leaves depart from december 21st branches
you should be back soon and i'll wait
when you return, could we remake a copy of our last copulation?
in the backseat of your car or mine if i eventually get one
in your bed or even my own
behind the open house party next to that tree
me on top or you on top of me
link your pinky to my pinky and promise that youll stay
just a little longer so we can grow for a bit
so we can be cacoons and become butterflies together
you can be high all the time, in the sky i prefer
Feb 12, 2011
Feb 12, 2011 at 4:08 PM UTC
Low tide -
oysters scattered across
the sand that cacoons
our feet
black hot -
we are nothing more
than a forty a day
bad habit
dying -
smoke filled lungs
desperate to swollow
air -
when all there is,
is dust
Feb 24, 2017
Feb 24, 2017 at 1:04 PM UTC
Play me a sad song?
But what of this joyous day
Summer unfurls before us
And warm sunshine tans my skin
Sure we toil in trenches
Dug as defensive lines
Against a swarm
So complete in its hostility
But brothers, hear the sounds of nature
Echoing around us
Wrapping us in soft cacoons
Of sweet distraction
So do not sing a sad song
Don't dampen my ephemeral mood
Let me have this moment of reprieve
As I dig trenches
On a future battlefield
Feb 25, 2020
Feb 25, 2020 at 6:37 AM UTC
Hatched from their cacoons,
they're all different now.
Changed to different colors,
different tones, different attitudes.
Newly-winged butterflies flutter
to wherever their hearts desire.
Then there's that one caterpillar,
left in the dirt, not wanting to flutter
with the rest, but to walk with the bold
down below.
Change will come, but if the heart
changes, so will the mind.
The caterpillar with a heart as strong as
gold
tires of being with the butterflies
who do whatever they please
regardless of its righteousness or
wrongness.
The caterpillar wants to grow,
but to walk instead of fly
as high as the sky.
To be grounded and strong,
not high and fragile.
May 22, 2014
May 22, 2014 at 11:49 AM UTC
In suburbia,
a blue house with purple shudders;
a sloped hill, more wildflower than grass;
a peach tree, perennial, too old to fruit;
and robins, Miss Carolina robins, catching worms;
all told, making a home.
And a girl with wildflower hair
that reaches down past her waist,
that catches sticks like Miss robin's worms,
that's ends remember times she's forgotten,
that's dead and dry by her shoulders.
And the girl, she's catching caterpillars,
putting them in jars,
plastic wrapping up their sky,
poking stars with table forks,
making them a home.
Until they crack from wooly cacoons
when they're made into something new:
a kitchen moth, drawn to the light,
and so what about you, little girl?
What about you?
Jun 14, 2020
Jun 14, 2020 at 3:33 PM UTC