"morpho" poems
Mercilessly wandering through it
Nothing everywhere
Material world
"Accidents Happen Live! at 8p.m. ET"
And then I get it..
The moment I log-in
To a vapid, cheap place
Where something like
Humanity is shown
Like a shot of humanity
Morpho helena.
Honeysuckle.
Sevruga.
Followed by
A restless sigh
You-can-be-anyone Barbie:
"But what do I do with my own hair?"
I grew up in a lie.
Like a shot of *****
The realization makes me shiver from inside out.
Horsepills & champagne at midnight
My real-fake bedtime story takes flight.
But really
If you don't tell me
I'm pretty this instant,
I'm sticking my head right in the oven.
Jul 22, 2012
Jul 22, 2012 at 1:18 PM UTC
I'm as blue as your eyes.
Your eyes are as blue as the sky,
But the sky isn’t nearly as beautiful.
Your eyes are as blue as the sea,
But the sea isn’t nearly as deep.
Your eyes are as blue as a sapphire,
But a sapphire isn’t nearly as precious.
Your eyes are as blue as a robin’s egg,
But an egg isn’t nearly as pure.
Your eyes are as blue as the Blue Morpho,
But that butterfly isn’t nearly as rare.
Your eyes are as blue as a police box,
But a police box doesn’t feel nearly as safe.
Your eyes are as blue as light with a wavelength of 465 nm,
But that light isn’t nearly as bright.
Your eyes are as blue as a horseshoe ***** blood,
But that blood isn’t nearly as life-giving.
I'm as blue as your eyes.
Jun 1, 2011
Jun 1, 2011 at 2:32 PM UTC
Chrysalis woven womb
transform green to indigo
instar nymph emerging
paper origami wings unfolding
abandon your silky room
a maiden voyage of iridescent flight
calm breeze awaits your dawning, glorious
Blue Morpho
Jul 1, 2012
Jul 1, 2012 at 11:03 AM UTC
Blackbird your wings like ashen skies
iridescent as blue morpho butterflies
the impaling of your sharpened eyes
all knowing, you cackle
shapeshifter Yaqui man
desert bird, a grackle
Stirring, you stare me down
shaking mesquite leaves to the ground
the air is thick grey sage
smudged with prayers of peace
a wish to cease
the wars we wage
a vision pure of heart
this message of love unfurls
breathe peace - peace
in this world.
Apr 5, 2016
Apr 5, 2016 at 7:57 PM UTC
Through a vision in my dream, I see her there standing
a smile, unpainted, authentic and real, hopeful
opening the door, I feel a smile emerge, and the butterflies
oh they kick within me, like a life is growing there
a baby in sight, with no bump or pulse, just a gathering
of fluttering wings, that should I rip my chest open
out they would fly, a mélange of colours and shapes
purple swallowtails, adonis blues, lacewings, painted ladies
and finally, my favourite, the Menelaus Blue Morpho
escorted by the Duke of Burgundy, my springtime hero
each flutter, each movement, a collection from the continents
my self, my soul, my body has travelled, wanderlust
keepsakes of beauty and bliss, bordering on extinction safe within me
in a heartbeat they cover my whole self, they move around my body
my legs tremble, barely able to hold, this grown woman upright
a gulp, a gasp, a stare in wonder,
speechless, tongue tied, dazed, dumb, silent
my head empties, no thought passes, the parietal lobe vanishes
adrenaline is racing through my body faster than the light hitting my eyes
moments later I find vocal sound waves breezing past my ears
they are in slow motion, her voice mumbled, incoherent
she touches me and I jump in fright,
my eyes adjust, my heartbeat slows down, my legs steady
"Rachel!"
"Rachel!"
I wake up alone.
© Sia Jane
---
*"In through the window a moonbeam comes,—
Little gold moonbeam with misty wings;
All silently creeping, it asks,
"Is he sleeping— Sleeping and dreaming while mother sings?"*
Eugene Field
Dec 28, 2013
Dec 28, 2013 at 7:02 PM UTC
Berries and
Sky and
Faded jeans and
Oceans and
China teacups and
Forget-me-nots.
Morpho butterflies in the pit of my
Stomach and
His eyes and
My
Heart.
Apr 5, 2014
Apr 5, 2014 at 11:12 PM UTC
In late January,
you walked into my life
and for the briefest second
I felt like a flower blooming.
Each petal folding backwards,
falling softly to expose me
warming from the inside out.
The first thing you said to me
was to name a Morpho in flight,
with the name I would choose for him.
That was when I felt my ice melting
and know yours did too,
in your easy smile and black curls.
I was smitten from the moment that we met,
and I pray tonight that today will not be the last.
Jan 26, 2014
Jan 26, 2014 at 9:32 PM UTC
her bare uncold body stood on red ice but not breaking
Europa's gentle surface; delicate patchwork of Angelite Rose.
She was covered in butterflies who crawled and kissed her,
******* gently on her paper skin dressing her; peach-fuzzed legs
tiptoed across, antennae exploring her belly and her neck as if
she was a blessing from Them -- Them, and the Moon Bugs,
and The Cosmos, and the stretched sunset wings on the veins
of Pieridae who tickled the behind her kneecaps, fluttered and boasted
to Their Moon, Thirsty Europa, about Her. She was a house never sought
but found between the fragile glass mountains, who, spitefully, were unmoved
by Jupiter's glow in the horizon -- the sky was half red. She laughed
at how silly it all seemed. "Do you hear me?" said Morpho swimming
to her eardrum moving from the gentle hairs of her collarbone
like scarce grass. Morpho's electric blue wings that made Lo jealous
and the red ice crave more of galaxy insects. His slender, tender body
as slim as the legs he pressed into the curled hairs around her ear, "Or am I silly
like unmoved mountains or the air you used to be able to breathe?"
Nov 11, 2015
Nov 11, 2015 at 11:43 PM UTC
J 'atterris sur la planète Vulvae
En haut du Mont de Vénus
Vulvae c'est le coeur battant de ma Muse.
Ma muse est un dragon à quatre-vingt-huit têtes
Et chacune de ses têtes me sourit
Et m'offre là un thé vert, là une camomille
Là un morceau de pain, là un verre d'eau de vie de mirabelle,
Là un ballon de vin clairet
Et comme je ne veux peiner aucune de ses têtes
Qui tournoient autour de moi
Je les cajole toutes en faisant une fumaison de musc
Ainsi comme les abeilles les têtes se calment sevrées .
Des quatre-vingt-huit têtes de ma muse
Qui défilent sur le podium
En me faisant les yeux doux de Chimène
Celle que je préfère c'est la numéro trois
Bien sûr je ne le lui ai jamais dit
Je ne veux fâcher personne
et surtout les numéros dix-neuf et quatorze,
Ces succédanés de ma Muse,
Dont j'apprécie les atours virevoltants de jaune et orange.
Mais Coconchine c'est ma tête préférée
Mon mannequin à moi
Ne me demandez pas pourquoi
Sa ***** minora
Sa ***** majora
Sa flore vaginale
Son petit air coquin et absent en même temps
Tout concourt à ce que ce soit ma prima donna.
C'est peut-être sa couleur qui me chavire
Ce bleu océan ou outre-mer
Je sens que la cyprine qui en coulera
Déteindra sur mes lèvres
Soudain bleues à l 'unisson de ses envies.
C'est une énigme
Et son énigme me fascine.
C'est un condensé de Vulvae
La vulve de ma Muse.
C'est la Vulve rêvée, fantasmée
Intemporelle comme une pierre gravée
Une vulve versatile, gredine.
Faussement pudique
Elle bat des cils
Et volette comme une nymphe
De morpho bleu et léger
Au-dessus des orphies qui volettent elles aussi.
Elle m'invite,
Elle m'a choisi,
Je suis l'Elu,
Son cheval barbu
Elle me désire,
Elle me charrie
Dans les tourbillons de la cyprine
Qui m'entrouvre la porte de son vestibule
et en pénétrant dans ce labyrinthe
Je grave de mon silex
Les flammes bleues du feu qui me dévore.
Aug 21, 2019
Aug 21, 2019 at 11:28 AM UTC
forever grateful for you and every little thing that you do.
kindness shapes every little part of you—
makes your heart malleable,
like the dough kneaded by ami
to make me her crispy wale parathas
every day when i wake up at zohr time,
when the world has already started for everyone.
but for me—
the world drops dead when you close your eyes,
and the universe becomes tangible
only when you open them.
at the same time as me.
your voice,
woven in gossamer threads,
wraps me into a cocoon
and then slowly, slowly unwraps me
until i’m a blue morpho butterfly
on her desk,
with a 10-hour mark on her baby pink timer—
matching his white one.
make sure you do one thing at least a day:
either the pre-med questions
or the anki flashcards.
i agree.
we’ll make the chat too spicy in discord—
with firing neurons,
and “i’m so proud of you”s,
and w’s.
i’ll make sure you understand the concept of resonance energy
by making you feel it.
so when i am electrocuted by the d key,
the numbness in my hand
turns into this debilitating blue numbness
in my baby’s malleable, precious heart—
and then we fix it.
together.
with all the scotch tapes
and the double-sided ones,
and the cardboard pieces from your drawers—
piece by piece.
a 4-hour call;
of crocheting,
moving in and out
of the seams of us.
we really did become a mosaic
of all the people that we love.
maybe talking about the teachers
in your khala's school,
knitting sweaters in the kitchen
for their loved ones—
made you feel like you could do anything.
resonance energy.
you carry the same energy
of all the people in your stories—
and with your gossamer threads
pull me back inside the cocoon
when you miss me
(when i miss you)
and fall back to sleep, holding me.
so close—
we're not even a heartbeat away now.
love,
i will find a way back to you in my dreams—
where you are in my lap,
and nothing has ever hurt you before,
and nothing will hurt you again.
call out to me,
and i will be up at 6:24
to get you off your desk.
no more apex without me.
we only play apex
when i’m in your lap as you play,
tracing my fingers
along the canvas of your face,
and kissing you stupidly—
until you are senseless.
May 1, 2025
May 1, 2025 at 7:42 AM UTC