"ladybugs" poems
I knew it'd happen.
A dead Ladybug over our heads.
But we drank.
Beer,
Champagne,
Sun.
We painted our nails
Black, red, ladybug's dead
Out we went,
In our finest.
One drink down,
New town.
Sticky floors, sticky web, the Ladybug hung dead.
I say something,
to you.
I know it's going to happen.
You fume.
Tick, tick, tick...
You start to shout.
Cigarette.
Here we go.
I'm not backing down on this,
I'm trying to help!
Help me, help me, set me free, let me live, ladybugs free!
*****
I bite my lip
SNOTTY
I breathe
LIAR
I blow
Tears spill on your face,
My truth comes out,
You pushed me!
Poke, Poke, Push!
Poke, Poke, Push!
We hurt each other.
Over nothing.
Over something you don't like?
What is it?
I give up.
Taxi for one,
Taxi for two.
My head is heavy,
Eyes weak.
I'll be the bad guy.
You'll cry to them,
and lie, lie, lie!
Fly, fly, fly far away. Ladybugs aren't here to stay.
Oct 15, 2012
Oct 15, 2012 at 4:57 PM UTC
The waterbug and the ladybug
Fell in love with each other
But they couldn't work it out
They couldn't get it together
Ladybug said " I can't swim "
And water bugs can't fly
Ladybug swung down like a swing
Kissed him with her wing
One touch and the connection was made
Ladybugs love was real
Waterbug cried tears of sadness
For the first time he could feel
The day's turned into years
Ladybugs memories grew
She took her love to the waters edge
She didn't know what else to do
Waterbug was there in his lillypad home
So much his
But still he lived his life alone
Ladybug lived in his mind
There's nobody like her in the water to find
"Ladybug, I'll always love you"
He said very sincere
Waterbug then whispered in her ear
"If you ever need me, I'm always here"
Dec 30, 2015
Dec 30, 2015 at 12:06 PM UTC
hush, abi
please!
if we stay here nothing bad will happen to us
pinky promise, alright?
mommy and daddy will be back soon and we can lie here all together
the four of us can lie right here, cradled by the grass and the stars will come out for us
we can make our own constellations, how does that sound?
when mommy and daddy find us we will name it whatever you want, they will love it
oh, abi, please don’t cry
the scary loud sounds?
those were fireworks, the brightest, most colorful fireworks that exist
keep looking up, abi, you’ll see them soon
who lit them?
why, the night sky sent its own just for us
that’s why there were two, one for you and one for me
they are made of shooting stars and instead of smoke they leave behind cosmic dust, that’s what makes them so beautiful
when mommy and daddy come back, two will be lit for them, you’ll see
but now stay here with me, i know it is cold, but please try not to move
we can become two blades of grass, but only if you close your eyes, no peeking!
in the morning we can splash our faces with sweet dew and say hello to traveling ladybugs
we can dance to melody of the bird’s flapping wings, we will hear so many different sounds and colors
we can watch all the fireworks we want, the pretty ones i told you about
abi, stop shaking, it will be okay
those steps are mommy and daddy walking to us
they want to be grass with us, all of our roots can be threaded together like a bracelet and we can be so happy
don’t open your eyes
promise you will keep them shut tight, you can only look when you hear the fireworks the sky will light up for them
i won’t open my eyes either
pinky promise, alright?
we will soon be velvety soft, we will live in our garden with mommy and daddy
here they come!
now hold my hand, that way we will be planted together
it will be mommy, daddy, me, and you - Abilene
watching fireworks paint the sky forever.
Jul 23, 2018
Jul 23, 2018 at 3:09 PM UTC
When one thousand years has passed us by,
I hope mother earth is still beautiful
And there's fruit trees and grass so green,
And fresh air to breathe that's clean
There's animals alive of every variety,
fireflies, ladybugs, and honeybees
I hope there's an amazing blue sky,
with songbirds together flying so high
And I hope most of all flowers still grow,
and there's a winter with falling snow
Jul 25, 2018
Jul 25, 2018 at 1:14 AM UTC
It's something in the chemicals, it makes the "miss you's" come out when you're drunk. Really, we're all liquor store kisses --- things you can't tell your parents. My drink is a little too strong, making my lungs feel like their filled with wasps. I'm a mess, is that what you call it? When someone says "don't cry" but you cry harder. Everyone's talking all they want around me, but I'm not listening. Lies, lies, lies. But, the lies are only good when you're telling them. I need help, aka a wedding for all the things I've lost in my eighteen year old life. The morning vomits evening colors from hearing your name. Like I'm vomiting-out all the broken promises you ever made to me. Your eyes reminded me of the prettiest diamonds, what did mine remind you of? Loose change? I need to do laundry, but I'm too lazy. I'm living in a wastebasket of flashbacks. I'm driving home tonight, alone, not sobber. I won't grip my steering wheel tightly, I won't wear my seatbelt, I won't use my breaks. I'll remember the amount-less number of drinks I've drank, slightly. But, they were no mistakes. I'm good at pretending my life is in order, but clearly it's not. This isn't who I want to be anymore, I hate the remembrance of you. I think getting drunk will help, but that only makes the remembrance worse, and I keep thinking about our first kisses --- and how they tasted --- how they drained the color out of every living thing --- how ladybugs decided to make their homes in the palms of our hands --- how it wasn't hard to forget that we have an unbearable amount of seconds left on this planet.
(k.m.m)
Jan 31, 2015
Jan 31, 2015 at 11:46 AM UTC
Hawks
Poison Ivy
Butterflies
Many shades of Pink
Grass
Hydrangeas
Tiny little ladybugs
Colorful Flowers
Robins
Roses
Many wonderful, beautiful things
Aug 26, 2014
Aug 26, 2014 at 7:29 PM UTC
A quiet book of words, from a lonely man in his room
Her tiny voice, like pebbles rolling down a stream,
surrounded by pines
Sand between her toes, humming a song her mother used to sing,
forgot the words
Holding my head in your arms, blue little room, listening to
the wind chimes
Your bamboo forest, outside this ***** window, full of
ladybugs & grasshoppers
Green grass drying to hollow shells, snapped off by careless hands
Brushed away by gentle winds, spread among limestone & juniper
Standing barefoot on the paving stones, her toenails painted
yellow with black dandelions
A sip of iced tea, lemon, a bite of steamed rice
Trying to put a few thoughts together, letting the day simmer down
We'll sit together a while longer, listen to the crickets in the bamboo
Waiting, quietly waiting on your voice, the only thing
that keeps me dreaming anymore
May 8, 2011
May 8, 2011 at 1:00 AM UTC
I saw a gigantic tree.
Uprooted and on its side.
The great roots forming a mane for the snarling ringed face on the stump.
But the fallen beast is taken, it’s husk a Home.
A vibrancy of weevils, ladybugs, frog hoppers, Cockchaffers that’s skittering, scattered like a smashed ant farm.
Around its base were prehistoric ferns,
Curled and scaled like sand lizards’ tales.
Reminiscing the demise of the tyrannosaur.
When dust clouds darkened the sun which warmed their claws.
The skittering skinks, slow worms and other small lizards, who need far less to survive, then feasted upon the monsters’ flesh and found a home in its bone structured palace.
As whale sinks,
Distorted into a globster of its former self,
It hits the sea bed hard in oil-Black darkness.
The hagfish burrow, starved for millennia.
Brutally tearing at the befallen banquet.
Mouths used to scraps choking on steak.
Getting their guts knitted as they squirm over each other to grasp some sashimi.
Dripping saliva as if we’re sweat in the ruckus.
Yeti crab pinch, as do isopods
But get only mucus insulting their jaws.
And they thought they helped to cut up the portions.
Soon all that is left is a skeleton.
Hanging in a museum for future generations to see.
Once again, dust gathers, from bombed out sand.
Erupting in the air as giants hit the ground.
We may soon again see darkness fall.
As the rayiys is skinned.
But no tears are shed.
We all cheer none the less.
Aug 2, 2018
Aug 2, 2018 at 6:07 AM UTC
Quirky is one way to
say it
without bringing to mind all
these insects, teleporting wings
you bring for me
fireflies wavering in
dreamland river silence
ladybugs to fuel fires
violent light and diminish
to reality in the morning
this hall feels solid, but I see you
and it starts all over again
the most wonderful feeling
I wish you could
you do?
brilliant.
Jan 24, 2012
Jan 24, 2012 at 11:34 PM UTC
My Grandma had a purse shaped like a cobbler.
It was Blackberry and soap with a good dose of thyme.
She kept it close to her side, but behind her
so as not to impede her graceful march.
At some point the original strap had been lost
and replaced with a cherry red confection
that swirled around her arm and latched
onto the top crust that is always the most crunchy.
A few buttons were picked up along the way
and dotted the top layer like ladybugs dancing.
The zipper was never fully shut and there was often
a receipt sticking out, or perhaps her pink comb
that waggled in the air like a tongue in delight.
It wasn’t a big purse; just enough to satisfy
a healthy craving but big enough to care
were you not to see it present at dinner.
I have almost forgotten the healthy craving,
the smell of Blackberries, and why the ladybugs
should ever want to dance.
Apr 11, 2012
Apr 11, 2012 at 10:28 PM UTC
Chilies hang from the ceiling
Clouds grow from the floor
Light comes from the air.
Ladybugs float through the breeze
A hand grasps at nothing
Colors splash at every angle.
Cupcakes being frosted
Flowers being picked
Books being read.
Love violently punching my heart
Knowledge leading my brain to obesity
Contentment filling my smiling soul.
Oct 25, 2010
Oct 25, 2010 at 7:02 PM UTC
Her name,
passing over your lips
like the cosmonaut's smile
at first sight of the Earth.
Since birth, she has been
swimming the stars, but still
never goes beyond dipping her toes
when the shoreline hisses withdraw.
As her earth gives
my sea his home, I wonder-
Would she let me
take her hand, gently,
walk her out a bit deeper.
Would she hold me, fiercely,
lift up from the wet sand,
her bare feet, trust the sea, trusting me.
While earth, sea, and stars all hold each other dearly,
however distant they may be,
Her deepest fears all devoured
by a pack of wild ladybugs.
Jul 23, 2014
Jul 23, 2014 at 9:36 PM UTC
one halcyon summer, when
we strung ourselves out on fat couches, wilting
like thirsty, overheated forsythia, one
hundred or more crimson carcases found themselves
turned upside down on my floor. ladybugs discarded
from the designs of nature. i swept them under the bed.
i promise, when you die, i will not flick you out of sight
with a careless index finger (there will be sorrow, outrage, and flowers
picked clean of aphids).
Jun 16, 2011
Jun 16, 2011 at 7:35 PM UTC
i sat silently
and watched the bugs crawl by.
they weren't butterflies,
or caterpillars,
or ladybugs.
i watched the flies
and the crickets
and the ants.
moving in a secret art no one bothered to take note of.
they were the friends i met in the hallway.
they were shy,
but if you looked at them long enough,
you could see the beauty no one else saw.
if you find beauty in the bugs everyone does not find beautiful,
you can find it in others.
people are like bugs,
similar, but different,
each holding their own design.
everyone has beauty,
you just have to find it.
even if it means sitting in the hallways alone,
watching the bugs no one cares to look at.
Sep 18, 2013
Sep 18, 2013 at 7:14 PM UTC
you are that tiny
bud, the one about
to bloom.
the one that seems
to be singing
a song
that only I can
hear.
And bees and
birds and
ladybugs
[forget me nots]
nothing can resist you
[here]
But I simply
could not pick you.
Could not take you
from the vine.
Couldn't take you in
my hands
and squeeze and
hold you
all the time.
I couldn't destroy
you
flower
in such a
selfish manner.
you are that tiny
bud
[to watch you]
bloom.
Aug 2, 2012
Aug 2, 2012 at 3:01 AM UTC
You are, almost
Tell me your first memory of happiness.
Maybe a swing set above wood chips or
collecting ladybugs in your pockets or
a perfectly cut sandwich you didn't make
or the smell of grass mixed with chlorine
and sunscreen coating your skin under
a sky brighter than any future imaginable.
Pink frosting from cake dyes palms
into a canvas of sugary pigment
A popsicle melting down between
the webbing of eager fingers
Teeth are covered in chocolate and
face a mess and
all smiles,
it is funny how joy always seems
to be synonymous with
sweetness and
giggles and
the memory of being too young to remember anything fully.
19 is poison for a clock
it is reminder to wake up
after pretending to be
something you were not for too long
time is eating away the comfort
from your bones, I wonder
does candy still taste like candy
when it has grown stale?
when the shell has cracked and
all that remains is what's inside,
is it still desirable then?
will people still want to know
what you feel like against their tongue
after you've already touched the ground?
The same texture but time
has made its evidence on you tangible
The juice once spilling from your hands
has become wine
The summer sparklers have become remnants of
cigarettes on your nail buds,
ashes of trying to forget,
you are no longer afraid of fireworks
the hairbrush holds another version of yourself,
a near stranger with similar freckles who
once insisted on only wearing dresses,
now you struggle just to get shoes on,
it was easier when someone did it all for you,
everything is, that way.
I don't know when laughing became
a side effect instead of a soundtrack but
it still rings familiar, sometimes.
19 is more sour than lost
it is possible to know whereabouts with
a bitterness between your lips but
not all of your past is disintegrating
there is a love for saccharine that still remains,
more honey than cloying and
19 may be taunting down a candle to its wick
asking to be noticed but
it is ready to be uncovered
19 is golden
You are, almost.
May 17, 2015
May 17, 2015 at 4:07 PM UTC
you and me, under trees
shadows and leaves
ladybugs and gumdrop trails,
gingerbread houses
you whispered in my ear here;
surrounded by candy canes
we **** here
and we make love here
we drop tear
after tear
all the colors blend together
i-
drop my guard i guess, stop feeling
all the weight of the
cotton candy clouds
smoking licorice
but it was a lie
anyway
Jul 15, 2015
Jul 15, 2015 at 9:58 PM UTC
1. I find cannibalism intriguing
2. Bee stings
3. I haven't heard that speech that every boy needs
to hear to be a man
4. The love that bottlenecks in your throat when someone dies
5. I have to be heavily medicated
to enjoy my life
and it feels like cheating
6. A tube of toothpaste, all squeezed out
7. Raising a second generation in my hometown
It's this place
That keeps me down
8. Jack the Ripper shows
when I'm home alone
9. I've read every Sherlock Holmes
and I am jones-
ing for another
story to make me think
10. Same God, different names
11. Is language to blame
for misunderstandings
or is it just human failings
Faith is a frail
old woman
feeding her 1,000 cats
1,000 separate bowls of milk
12. The class of 2009
13. When I drive home at night
I pretend to be someone else
singing along with the radio
14. Ghosts of friends that walk right through you
15. Maybe the past never really happened?
Maybe I was someone else back then?
16. Men
Who leave me and fly off to
Never never land
Boys, not men
Who don't want to grow up yet
and probably never will
17. Ladybugs
Feb 28, 2013
Feb 28, 2013 at 10:05 AM UTC
*Thus far 400,000
species discovered
a quantity dissonance
ghastly overwhelming..
40% of insect species
30% of all animals..
worthy representatives
of animal kingdom..?
Greek named
Coleoptera
not Cleopatra..!
"sheathed wing"
potential flight..
pheromones
stimulate and gather..
Vibrations join
with all creation..
Similarities
these big four:
Adephaga
Archostemata
Myxophaga
Polyphaga
land and aquatic..
Air Fire Water Earth
complete with
surprise members:
Ladybugs
Fireflies
Lightening bugs
allusions to
Fortune and Light....*
Jul 25, 2013
Jul 25, 2013 at 11:34 AM UTC
Happiness forced down her throat
With just a little bit of water
Cosmic Love beckoned her eardrums
To a sandy beach in Guanaja
But not really
Waves of relaxation
As she swayed back and forth
With the wind she imagined
Blowing through her damaged hair
Lights
Lights
Lights
Her body was a serpent
Slithering like the music in her ears
Soul on fire
Eyes like the earth
She painted chaos
With just her fingertips
Alone in the dark
High as a cathedral ceiling
Wandering home
To thoughts of his lips
Butterflies
And ladybugs and fireflies
Smoke
Escaped cracked lips
Happy when she’s high
Happy when her mind
Wanders home
But for now
Levitating
Without her magician
By her side
Alone
Dazed
But happy
Home in just the blink
Of a dilated eye
The dark was all too familiar
And the calls came farther and farther apart
.
But just like that
She was home again
In the blink of a dilated eye
Mar 25, 2013
Mar 25, 2013 at 2:51 AM UTC
Rocks know a lot more about time than clocks
Drive to the top of a mountain
Cinnamon gum
Noseblood
And rocks a lot older than clocks
Tell the older us we say hello
I am stuck between red rocks and a very hard place
Rockclimbing to rockbottom
I am a time hunter, rock hunter, pigeon hunter
(Let me tell you something about pigeon hunting:
Shooting clay pigeons isn’t as much fun when the pigeons aren’t clay
and their bodies shatter in midair like pomegranates in September
with red jewels sprinkling the sandstones
the sedimentary clouds and the fastfood signs)
Remember that time I tattooed the sky?
I wrote “time is a l.e.d. light” in a sacred heart
between the stars and the freckles and the ladybugs
none of their mothers were thrilled
Now I know time is a rock, a very heavy rock
A rock is a star, a star is a rock
And me? I am a rockstar
But I have all timers. Alzheimer's? No. ALL TIMERS
and a monolith growing on my sternum
Firecrackers. That’s what I wanted to talk about.
And when I say firecracker I mean fireworks
the way fire works his way between me, time and a rock
What is it with rocks?
Rock and roll
Rocked by doubt and rolled by time
Rock my world, please
Mar 23, 2016
Mar 23, 2016 at 11:45 AM UTC
The ocean, sunny days, vintage picnic baskets, pigtails, laughter, tire shops, vanilla soft serve ice cream, bubble gum, warm nights, cool sheets, skin, morning quiet, orange juice, bubbles, grass, ladybugs, kisses.
May 11, 2017
May 11, 2017 at 10:15 PM UTC
Sunshine, Sunshine
Ladybugs awake
Move your hands and give a little shake
Jul 27, 2023
Jul 27, 2023 at 12:16 AM UTC
We wanted to be big girls since we were little ones
we used mom's lipstick
and pretended we were mature and pretty enough
to have red, bright lips
and shiny, size six golden shoes
mum used to tell me I was pretty
and she let me use her lipstick
but I didn't really like it
so I rushed to the backyard
I tangled wild flowers in my hair
usually mixed with dandelions
and mint leaves
sometimes a couple of ladybugs came by
and after that I just stood there
being happy
and crowning myself
as the Butterfly Queen
and mum got angry
because I was a mess
and my hair was tangled
and full of dirt
seems like flowers in my hair
didn't make me pretty at all
but now I am a grown up, and I am happy too,
because I can put eyeliner without getting teary eyes
and I can tangle mint leaves in my hair:
mum can't yell at an adult now, huh?
Jul 8, 2014
Jul 8, 2014 at 4:37 PM UTC