"caterpillers" poems
They sit in their
Wide neon cocoons,
Cozy and warm
With hot air
Dribbling out of vents
And swirling around their bodies.
A thin sheet of metal protects them from
Nine degree weather
And bone-freezing winds
And sheets of shivering ice.
And yet,
Every day at
Exactly
Six twenty-four in the morning
They come around
Like wide neon caterpillers
And slink toward where I stand,
Legs frozen to concrete.
Doors open,
Burning cold air rushes in
And rubs against them,
But they wait and smile
As I climb three tall stairs
And greet them,
Welcoming the nice hug of
Warmth
And
Coziness
And
Comfort
And love.
They love me,
A stranger.
They love me enough to
Rescue me from
Becoming an ice sculpture.
So I fumble with
The Thank You in my pocket
And ****** it toward them
In my haste.
It is enough for them.
Feb 28, 2014
Feb 28, 2014 at 8:45 AM UTC
Why oh why,
the woodpecker cry,
am I so lonely,
is this why,
I eat caterpillers,
I eat tree,
I peck at the bark,
but this is just me,
my brothers and sisters,
aboandond me,
long ago in my woodpecker tree,
I only loved them for three seconds more,
until they fell to the woodlands floor,
six were us,
now we are one,
this is it,
this is the the end,
I miss them all,
they left me to fend.
Sep 4, 2014
Sep 4, 2014 at 8:03 PM UTC
there was a group of caterpillers they became a band
so they could rock n roll all across the land
they would make a record and sell it out of stock
then everyone would dance to the caterpillar rock.
they could play for hours putting on a show
filling up the venue where ever they would go
when ever they were playing. they would bring a crowd
pleasing all the people made them very proud.
they just loved to rock and play the night away
rocking and a rolling in there caterpillar way
Jan 21, 2015
Jan 21, 2015 at 7:54 AM UTC
We are like caterpillers.
We were made to climb, eat and sleep.
We want to climb to the top of a rock that takes a lifetime, full of ego.
And we have another choice.
We can be like butterflies!!
But how is it possible to us to become a butterfly?
We must want to become a butterfly so much that we are willing to give up to be a caterpiller!
Does it mean to die?
Well, yes and no.
It may look that you have died, but actually you are still alive.
Life doesnt end, but is merely transformed!
What do we have to do?
We make a coccon around ourselves.
And it may look we are hiding, but this is not an attempt to escape.
We are just changing place.
It may appear to us that nothing is happening, but it is.
Just remember this is a very big step because once you become a butterfly.
You can never go back to being a caterpillar again!
Dont worry about your old and special friends, because once you become a butterfly, you can always find them and help them to become a butterfly as well.
You will be a wonderful butterfly.
The entire world is waiting for you.
The end...or is it just the beginning?
This is 4 everyone, except those who have given up completely (and even they might secretly enjoy it)...
Nov 22, 2013
Nov 22, 2013 at 12:29 PM UTC