"fluttery" poems
That silly feeling inside,
Bubbly or fluttery?
I can't decide.
It's as if a million butterflies are just there,
Underneath your skin tickling you without a care,
They want you to know that these feelings are rare.
Embrace them don't push them.
Just let them happen.
Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 7:36 AM UTC
*I stand at the feet
of this stunning sunset,
The sparks in my eyes,
light each star.*
***Rhythm of each twinkle,
synced with that of my own.
Strong and sure,
albeit few and far.***
*Nameless wind brings to me,
stories of silky clouds
I pull your smile deep in my heart
and finally can breathe.*
***Familiar words
without cloaks nor shrouds.
Just words...
Yours and mine to reveal what
our hearts would unsheathe.***
*What day is this?
Perfect to find
the rebirth of
freshly dewed dreams.*
***It isn't yesterday
nor is it tomorrow
It's today...
Where the sun would see us
weave our tapestries
through promise-bound seams.***
*I feel deep in my heart,
a fluttery stirring,
A hope,
a strength to reach out to you.*
***This hope you speak of...
Tethered by no thread or string
Mending my universe
and making it new.
So now I stand
at the end of this set...
Seeking the beacon
that I had known.
I'd again brave through this day
tomorrow...
Just so that I could hear your heart
that beats with my own...***
Dajena M
ryn
May 2, 2015
May 2, 2015 at 1:18 PM UTC
My Flutter
because a flutter is a group of butterflies
like you give me all the time
I really love your flutter smiles
your flutter eyes, your flutter ears
I've loved you flutter for a couple years
with a fluttery heart and a secret glance
and then we gave our love a chance
to fly, to flutter, and to soar
I want to flutter evermore
yes i know these words are cheesy
but i hope they flutter freely
In your heart and in your mind
as i sneak between your smiles
as i steal my path past grins
i hope that you'll remember them
a simple gift to you from me
I always want to make you happy
The smiles on your face
sweetly fluttering into place
evidence that i make
That butterfly in your chest
flutter quick and race
to your fluttery happy place
I LOVE YOU FLUTTER!
Mar 22, 2012
Mar 22, 2012 at 6:18 PM UTC
The grass flickers, as the
Wind pushes it down, in
A gentle but determined
Motion, sweeping upwards to
Swirl the blue-grey clouds
Around the radio tower, before
Dissipating into the milky
Sky, which at this moment
Is the lightest shade of
Blue, an open innocent shade
Of blue, like an angelic birthday
Cake, the pinker clouds, whose
Graceful tendrils embrace the
Air, and dancing twirl across the
Peaceful summer skyscape
Down below them, the
Emerald stalks of corn stand,
Silent sentinels, awaiting the
Coming of the dawn, they too
Feel the pushing of the wind, but
Brush it off, over their shoulders,
And continue their silent watching
On the sloping sides of the hill, the
Growling pines, resplendent in their
Glimmering needles, reflect the fading
Light, off the clouds, as the sun sinks,
Beneath the horizon, and I watch them
Silently on my bike, the only thing
I can hear, is the swish of the wind,
And the hum and whirring of the
Pedals, as my bike and I, we glide up
The hill, and down the hill, and
Around the posts that are meant
To keep the cars from disturbing, this
Peaceful walking path
A while later, we crest a hill, now
Having past the town, I see the work
Of the persistent wind, the clouds
Now whipped into a curling wave,
Of pink and blue-black, spilling
Over the horizon, behind the red-roofed
Country houses, which are strangely
Reminiscent of those old, red, barns
Which would sit abandoned in
Fields of perpetual wheat, and,
Through the turning of the seasons,
Would rot away into timbers, with
No one left to remember, what
They were, or why they remain
Now we have ridden in a loop, my
Bike clicks as I change gears, to
Crest a hill and coast down, at high
Speed, between the guard rails and
The road, with the wind kicking
Up behind me and whisking an
Upcoming tree in to a fluttery
Flurry of leaves and branches, while
Below a stream cuts a field, and,
Skirting a pen, passes by a pinto
Pony, I think it was, that was just
Standing there, as we rode past,
Onto the cobblestones and around
A bend, the group splits, some going
A different route, but I want to come
Back the way I came, and I ride
Beside the highway, listening to
The chirp of the crickets and the
Hum of the wheels against the
Cold, pavement, while up the hill
The verdant pines bob their bows,
Up and down, waving, waving,
The crashing blue-black wave has
Rolled, on past the tower now, it
Is crashing down over the silent
Sentinels, and I watch quietly as
The wind rolls down the hill, and
Whirls some leaves, making the
Grass flicker in the setting sun.
Mar 1, 2012
Mar 1, 2012 at 2:35 PM UTC
when i was six years old my whole family went to disney world and being the self-respecting born and bred star wars fans we were, my brother and i cajoled our parents into letting us buy pictures of our little faces photoshopped onto the faces of star wars characters.
my brother? anakin skywalker. and me? aayla secura.
who you probably haven't heard of, even if you're a pretty big fan of the series. to get you up to speed, aayla secura was a jedi knight and a general during the clone wars era in the prequel trilogy, which is all suitably ******* badass, but if i remember right she has roughly five minutes of screen time in the movies and even less in lines. and you probably remember her as that one blue chick.
and if i remember right she was also one of about three or four female options for the pictures. sure, there was padme amidala and princess leia, who are badass ladies in their own rights, but see the thing is that no six year old watches starwars and thinks to themselves, "hmm, i want to be a politician!" you think to yourself, "i want to be a jedi." and the only option that was a girl and a jedi was a background character.
but that's the thing isn't it? being a background character, a love interest, a side-kick is something girls grow used to seeing themselves cast as. sure, we're in the movie, but with half the lines and screen time. never the center of the story. never the hero, just the pretty girl with fluttery eyelashes he saves. too often i found myself having to invent my own characters and stories so that i could feel that i was part of a narrative, too.
and suddenly, more than ten years too late for for six year old me but just in time for a whole new generation of little girls, the person in the center of the poster clutching a blue lightsaber like a beacon of the light side was a girl.
so this halloween as i'm handing out candy i will see myself in every little girl with her hair twisted into three buns and light saber in her hand and the galaxy in her eyes. finally, finally the story is about her.
Jan 19, 2016
Jan 19, 2016 at 11:02 PM UTC
Lying alone doing nothing on my bed,
I decided to write about you instead
Looking back to where it started
Now, it clutters again inside my head.
I remember, yes dear, it was Christmas
And I got no intentions for an us
Back then, I was just a simple grown up lass
But everything changed with that simple favor to you, I asked
After you responded, that ends there really.
And I'm sure, it's not just you who I asked, see?
You're just someone, and I'm not even being friendly
But a spark out of nowhere ignited unexpectedly
It took a couple of months for me to realize
Talking to you suddenly felt so nice
I'm even daydreaming you and I in paradise
In this dull world of mine, indeed, you added some spice
Late night conversations eventually came into place
We shared to each one the dreams we want to chase
Just in case I'm one of your dreams, you'll have me apace
Wondering what will my future with you, if ever, taste?
Believe it or not, my deep affections for you grew
Even if we don't converse, I, now, begin and end my days with thoughts of you.
I don't know what fantasy have I indulged myself into
But whatever it is, what I feel is sincerely true
Just so you know, it feels good to write about you, even just your name.
Oh Dear... can't you feel a thing?
Can't you see the fluttery in my heart that you bring?
I badly want to hear that you feel the same
Mr. Down to earth hunk, I'm clueless but hopeful
And I tell you these words with candour
You are one eye-catching beautiful creation --- that's one of the things I praise God for.
And to me, you bring happiness galore.
Sep 30, 2014
Sep 30, 2014 at 1:24 AM UTC
and suddenly we're gone.
the moments we shared turned distant memories,
the song we used to sing became a classical piece,
the butterflies forgot to give fluttery sensations anymore.
the path we used to take became an unfamiliar road.
the half of me no longer aches for you.
our love became a folktale that no one longer recall.
Apr 21, 2018
Apr 21, 2018 at 7:55 AM UTC
*Butterfly Flutterby
The music swirls Cherry Blossoms,
pink petals fluttering in the air
as if plucked by morning notes
and you glide in dawn’s sweet touch
like a slow butterfly song.
Break down:
hey hey baby
come come
my lady
are you a butterfly
all fluttery sweet
and crazy down,
maybe you’ll dance with me
tonight.
Flip side:
this fusion, hard rock
and hip-hop
swirls cherry blossom petals
fluttering in your crazy breeze
of sweet tasting
butterfly notes.
Baby baby
you are a
sweet butterfly song
playing
dancing
in my heart...
Come come
my lady
and I will help you sing.
Aztec Warrior/redzone 8.27.16
Note: I drew heavily on the song by Crazy Town, “Butterfly”
the song embedded below.*
Sep 19, 2016
Sep 19, 2016 at 2:47 PM UTC
Little Lolly LOL is not too bright
She types LOL day and night
She seems to think that abbreviation is
To replace things like parenthesis,
Or hahaha, hello or goodbye.
She uses it constantly, don’t know why.
The way she uses it is a blight.
As I have said, she’s not too bright.
We never met, Little Lolly and I
But it’s almost as if I can hear it;
Her ending every single sentence
With LOL as if it were a period.
She can be chatting about ******
Disease or crooked officials
But she manages to end it with
Those silly, mirthful initials.
Little Lolly LOL I am sure totally fails
To understand what she has said.
I even tried a few times to get
The idea into her fluttery head.
But to her, she is being ‘with it’,
To her it’s just like saying ‘whatever’.
And that it means laughing out loud?
She never quite puts that all together.
With Little Lolly LOL, that is the price
One has to pay for her friendship.
To be sure, she’s not being funny.
LOL is punctuation, not a valid quip.
She saw and somebody explained it
So, she grabbed it and she uses it.
It never occurred to her addled brain
That there was any way to abuse it.
Oct 31, 2015
Oct 31, 2015 at 3:07 AM UTC
Woke up this morning with an itch to write,
To put pen to paper,
To put height to flight.
Broken words for the good mans' soul,
I write to feel happy,
I write to feel whole.
Like an anxious athlete on a trendy diet,
I weigh-in to reflect.
I weigh-in to free an internal quiet.
Similar to an artist using brushes and paints,
I draw a paradise with fire,
I draw a hell with saints.
Feelings twist my fingers and toes,
Force me to write of worries,
Force me to write about woes.
These words are like screams,
They are my pain,
They are my extremes.
To think I only write of distress is utterly depressing,
There is also beauty in the world,
There is a myriad of issues far more pressing.
Yet given the chance I would write my worries away,
Save me another hour,
Save me another day.
I would wish for an eternity of bliss,
For everlasting love,
For time's abyss.
I could write about cities,
Filled with people and cars,
Filled with ruins and pities.
I'll sew you a quilt of all my fears,
Hoping no one realizes,
Hoping no one hears.
With this quilt I'd make my bed,
Rest on it with fluttery thoughts,
Rest on it with a heavy head.
And on it I'd cuddle with the quilt,
Wish away all the bad,
Wish away all the guilt.
For I know I could write for a hundred years straight,
Still have those debts,
Still have a tarnished slate.
Aug 28, 2012
Aug 28, 2012 at 6:31 AM UTC
on this day of winged hearts
and chocolates
one tends to write about their
"better half," their lovers or husbands
This is not one of those.
I have no better half
I am an entity whole.
Woman proud and complete
deep down strata of soul
this union
is held
by the thread of our children
tender shoots growing
in our shared care
and even that thread is frayed
I write this valentine's poem
for the love of myself
for the knowledge that
when I love myself first
and the universe will give
and I will snip
that thread
so begging to be snipped
and fly off into the winds,
my three moonbeams
in tow
always at my side
They will never
cease their growing
under my watchful eye
I will be loved
like I am supposed to be
whether by another
or only me
for I now know what I need
Slowly
layers unpeel
and each day
I am more ready
So take your little
fluttery paper hearts
that you never
gave me anyway
and paste them all
over your own
for soon you will find
you might
need them
Feb 13, 2017
Feb 13, 2017 at 11:44 PM UTC
She believes in happy things
Invisible beings with fairy wings
Fluttery butterflies make her dance
An endless game of happenstance
Eyes of wonder, transparent soul
The world is cruel but she doesn't know...
She greets me with smiles from ear to ear
To hold her heart I solemnly swear
Gentle touch soothes the soul
In her presence I turn to gold
She holds my restless heart at bay
As she executes her innocent ways...
Her plans get lost in the making
A pouty face when she's faking
Empty cups of invisible tea
Cartoon bandages when she bleeds
Shelves filled with eyes that stare
She loves her tattered teddy bear...
Crayon drawing of sunny skies
She draws me with big wide eyes
Read me a story, she hands me a book
It's past her bedtime but she gives me that look
I tuck her in and read her asleep
And pray my love she'll always keep...
Jun 30, 2015
Jun 30, 2015 at 2:57 PM UTC
The vastness of the Earth.
The depth of the Sea.
The sparkle of the stars,
Are what led you to me.
Your deep blue eyes,
Your glistening smile,
The fluttery feelings
Been distant a while.
Protectively Shielding,
I put up my guard,
You pull me in closely
and see that Im scarred.
You kiss my cheek gently,
Fears floated a way,
Reaching out for my hand;
'I am here to stay.'
E.M Pearson
Oct 12, 2015
Oct 12, 2015 at 9:30 AM UTC
sometimes when we talk it's like my mind begins to race
your words begin to circle me
in a poetic embrace
i feel your passions seep under my skin and in my veins
feel your memories begin to root within my brain
then i respond, and i begin to tell all of my thoughts
told you things about myself,
i know i talked a lot
it's just that when we speak
i cannot help but share my pains
our stories are weaved with different themes
yet the handwriting's the same
sometimes when we talk,
it's like we start a mystical ride
you take my hand within your prose
and up, we start to fly
cliche? mmm, perhaps
but on the way, you show me stars
and every single one has got a touch of who you are
within my every reply,
it's like our words begin to dance
they fit so well together,
like a lyrical romance
looking into your eyes while you speak is what I'll miss
they're filled with scattered dreams
upon a few, i'd make a wish
make a wish you'd feel those fluttery things i feel inside
make a wish that when we talked,
you'd share this natural high
make a wish that i could venture deeper in your mind
and on my exploration, thoughts of me is what I'd find
i know it's safe to say i like you more than you like me
cause i don't think that when we speak, you feel this sort of glee
admittedly, it hurts, because i'll miss your cute remarks,
your odd expressions, your funny poems, your comments from the heart
but maybe down the road, a familiar figure is who i'll see
perhaps that guy will wave hello to sit and talk with me
Jun 27, 2018
Jun 27, 2018 at 10:26 AM UTC
antisocial sociopath
exquisitely exhumed exhaust
let us be clear. this is the end.
and the beginning.
fluttery flattery flattens all
so goes and does all foes.
Oct 15, 2012
Oct 15, 2012 at 4:24 AM UTC
Who was that arrangement of bones and ligaments you once held
What was that clump of hair you used to touch in your precious mapped hands
Those elegant or false words that were told, were they deserved
The chipped nail varnish upon each digit is more sincere, each truthful shattered fragment portrays brittle yearning like the fluttery fragments of pollen grasped within a drying flower
In each trigonometric microscopic distance there is light, darkness and colour
There is so much more than the laughter and saliva spilt upon the foggy expanse of past that once was.
Jan 4, 2016
Jan 4, 2016 at 6:57 PM UTC
Act One
Scene: a blue room with white curtains all drawn together tight
A broken record player filling my mouth with buzzing noise
You sit on the couch the way a queen sits on a conquered city
My eyes blind themselves with the dark of your hair
Time: When the sun and the moon collide
This is the part where I meet you
Where I really meet you
Where I get to know the inside of your cheek
The beating of your fluttery heart
The bruises on your sides like blooming roses
The soft hush of your words melting into my mouth
We play at lovers in a game that isn't our own
Act Two
Scene: Flashing lights sending the room into a flurry of technicolor madness
A bottle of ***** burning my throat like swallowed wooden matches
In a sea of movement you turn into a deity all on your own
My hands shake from the inside out and it is nothing, it is nothing
Time: When the waves engulfed the shore
This is the part where I hate you
Where I don't really hate you
But I hate him and him and her and him
And the way you are holding on to bones that are not my own
The clawing at my chest
The blood spinning in my head
The way you mean everything to me
And I don't even cast a shadow in your world
The way you shine and all I can do is long
I never meant for jealousy to wear my skin like a tailored suit
Act Three
Scene: An empty street and a lonely light
Jagged bricks digging into the soft part of my neck
You lean on a car and you don't look me in the eye
My tongue bleeds from all the words I cannot say
Time: When the stars fall from the sky
This is the part where I lose you
Except that I don't really lose you
Because in order to lose something, you must first have it
And I never had you
But I did keep your butterfly laugh in the cracks between my ribs
Your favorite lipstick in the pocket of my jacket
The broken shards of your full length mirror buried in my hands
I knew some people always loved more, always loved less, but I never knew you didn't love at all
Act Four
Scene: a blue room with white curtains all drawn tight
A broken record player imitating life
You are nowhere to be found and yet your ghost keeps popping around
My spine creaks from the weight of the world, of love, of you
Time: When the moon stills sing for the morning light
This is the part where I wait for you
Where I really wait for you
Because I am stupid and naive and hopelessly hopeful
And maybe it's pathetic
But I'm still waiting for the sound of your heavy footsteps
Your red sweater on my desk
The warmth of your presence
For you to love me back
I'm still waiting for you to come back
Apr 30, 2015
Apr 30, 2015 at 1:32 PM UTC
Close your eyes
***picture butterflies
escaping from a meadow of wildflowers
feel a gentle zephyr hug your cheek
imagine it's someone dear,
let the mind flow of babies breath
and first love's fluttery kisses
speak to the moon in enchanted tongues
feel the power of the majestic seas,
sing with birds on a captivating morn'
watching the burnish'd sun enrapture the earth
the world is easily our oyster'd pearl
if we seek the joy within our hearts,
find the ecstasy in simple things***
Jan 10, 2014
Jan 10, 2014 at 6:01 AM UTC
You've seen her a hundred times
With a hundred faces
But she's always the same
Always at the bar
She's there when you arrive
And she'll be there when you you leave
There beside the fullest ash-tray
Lighting another cigarette
With fluttery fidgety fingers
Her lipstick is far too red
And not quite straight
Too much make up to hide the lines
Which show all the more
As she cracks the mask to smile
Her hair is too yellow
And her eyes are long lost grey
The arc which her glass follows to her mouth
Is restless and constant
As the evening wears on
She will talk too loudly
She may even sing out of tune
She will laugh too shrilly
When nothing is funny
But sometimes
When it's late
She sheds silent messy tears
As she rocks on her bar stool
Because there's a reason
This woman at the bar
Has a story as real as any other
And it matters just as much
By Phil Roberts
May 13, 2016
May 13, 2016 at 10:46 AM UTC
*Lost in reverie's
abandon'd rhyme
immersed upon
grassy pleasures
I lie down in
the sunbeam'd earth
still feel your
utterances of my name
in whisper'd burbles
unto the nape of my
pulse's quiver
in enchant'd moons'
feathery touches
of fiery delight
blazed upon my skin's desires
blush'd with fluttery kisses
sing songs of our
true love's plight
my tears fall
unto the ground
absorb'd in darkly
dismiss'd tinges
no longer brilliant painted
hues of cobalt skies
I lay still, abiding of umber'd
soil's dissolution,
pausing for tulle's silk'd
lustrating rains to conceal this flurry,
immersion imbath'd in
nectar'd vales
perhaps, liquid sunshine's
heavy dew
will set me free* ~
Feb 21, 2014
Feb 21, 2014 at 6:45 PM UTC
Tap tap tap
The sound of nails
Rhythmically striking wood
Tap tap tap
To the quickened beat
Of nervous and fluttery heart
Tap tap tap
As you’re completely at the mercy of
Those uncontrollable urges and worries
Tap tap tap
As you wait; ever infatuated
For the girl that makes you squirm
Aug 20, 2011
Aug 20, 2011 at 1:39 PM UTC
the kind that land ever so softly
on your lips, your cheeks, your eyelids
wisps of breath, not quite touching
then, darting off to alight in another spot
teasing, enchanting, fluttery feeling
butterfly kisses turn into so much more.....
Apr 9, 2012
Apr 9, 2012 at 11:14 AM UTC
When I write these things
my thoughts fly with birds
sometimes grey in storms
sometimes winged in skies
so feathery
When I sing this song
my heart goes in beats, bittersweet
sometimes heavy held, my sorrow spilled
sometimes warmed, red flushed
and fluttery
When I paint this canvas
my brush moves in labyrinthine moods
sometimes shades, darkest blue cerulean
sometimes flowers white, soft as clouds
upon the page, floating heavenly
Apr 16, 2016
Apr 16, 2016 at 6:10 PM UTC