tonight is an
old-enough-to-vote-scotch-in-a-coffee-mug
kind of night i'm in one of those moods
where it's hard to communicate anything specific
i'm delving deeper into the vast emotional cavern because
i haven't found someplace open yet to flourish
& i haven't reached my usual vibration so i'll just bolt
the door wash my hair with hand-soap
because i'm a ***** guy with a ***** shadow body
i'll sit down in the shower to relax the muscles in my legs
watch the tears streak down the clear shower curtain
& accept the same marvelous sensation of wetness
tumbling across the skin of my face pooling in my top lip dimple
& soaking the soft yellow flannel splayed open on my chest

when the ball drops & the piano coda to Layla kicks in
i'll melt under the sweaty first-last moon of the year
as it sneaks up behind me bathed in the creature light
of the television shining out from the silent second living room
of my sister's house the one with the chandelier
& it's no surprise i turned out this way

last year i felt as cool as raindrops gathered together
in the shade of a wide tree & now i've never felt so alone
in my whole ******* life at least then i had roommates
to not give a **** about me because i'm nothing
i've come so far but sometimes
i'm still so scared i can't breathe
sweat trickles down my rib-cage as i re-inhabit myself
& next year i'll continue to dig myself out of this concrete hole
of low self-esteem this deep urban well of trembling
amateur sadness & feigned calamity maybe learn to not
blame them or make the tree feel guilty for blocking
the small bright sun from shining on my puddle because
i am no longer defenseless against my own racking fears
but right now it's too hard to see tomorrow's sunrise
from the wan of today so i'll just sleep out by the pool tonight under the stars to wait for it's richness & apprehend it's depth
if i get champagne drunk & can't
slide open the glass door i'll shiver my shoulders
& cry soul-struck blubbering in my sleeping bag as the
fireworks or flashlights cut
a Morse code dirge through the thick elm trees

the smell of spent powder or snuffed out candles
hangs like a noose around the throat
of the street with the fog in the morning as i brush
my sleepy-eyed teeth with my finger
i'm remembering the only summer you & i spent
together between college semesters
as you were getting over your ex-boyfriend i helped
by keeping pictures of you hidden in my room until spring
you said he took steroids & you liked a guy with muscles
so i did push-ups every morning before anyone else woke up
i did whatever you wanted in bed all night
but it didn't matter because you always left
as soon as you came

the weekend you got your wisdom teeth out
you made me promise to kiss you everywhere
except the bottom half of your face
starting with the swallowtail butterfly cocoon
of your collarbone or your belly-button at the bottom
of the neighbor's swimming pool
& you held your breath for me between
your swollen catch-me-if-you-can smile as
billows of your flaxen hair
floated into my open mouth
i was pretty sure i was the only guy
you hooked up with that desolate summer
but i was wrong

Half a butterfly on my left wrist

The other half on her right hand

We hold, and hold, together we hold

A blue butterfly to hide our scars


I have a pink butterfly to draw attention to my pain

She has a blue butterfly to draw attention away from her eyes


We share our wings,

we give our hearts


It is time for metamorphisis

It is time for us to FLY

I rest upon A grassy mound,
My mind spectates whats around.
Its A beautiful day,
I hope it won’t rain.
The skies are clear,
No birds too near.
I appoint my detector,
To search for the nectar.
I fly too A flower,
Hear it cry,
“Why choose me, oh butterfly.”

So it began
As a caterpillar
So neglectable    
Ignoring it
Seemed the best
But wiggling around in my stomach,
I could still feel it
Like an uninvited parasite
"Ignore it, it'll go away..."
I promised myself
And so it did
I didn't feel like throwing up for weeks
Then suddenly my insides fluttered  
Now known to me,
The worm-like sensation
That was supposedly dormant
Only subsided due to
A cocoon  
Now there's a butterfly in me
And I guess it's for you

Of all the colors
or incense of fragrance imbued
of lavender in fields, violet blue
or softer still the lilac florets all abloom
pale silk, sweet the honeysuckle dew
drips and drinks the yellow painted tanager
and flits afield the newly winged swallowtail
the thrum and dance of bees bright in floral symphonies
gathering, heavy laden in the bending breeze
of all the colors, this bird iridescently shimmering
blue into the disappearing trees
too soon another day to lose
of all the colors, a favorite
I can never choose.

A Spicebush Swallowtail
sipping nectar all day
Summer time is here.

Our hushed conversations
became overheard by the stars
and got woven into our galaxy.
The words that passed between our lips
ate away at the milky way.
Metaphors were meteors
and their pinched tails left trails
of stardust
echoed in our skin.
The inky black between transformed into wings
stretched across our universe,

and millions of black swallowtail butterflies took flight.

Forget me not,
my swallowtail,
as you fly through
the pasty clouds

soaring on wings
that will not fail,
past the grieving
sunlight's shrouds

As Apollo,
whom you hail,
drags away our
golden star

Through the darkness
you will sail
back to my arms
from afar

Precious , precocious Bluebird fledglings ,
seeking their bravado in the Red Tip hedges
Ruby Hummers running circles 'round Swallowtail dancers ,
Anoles playing tag in the Red Rose bramble
Chipmunks hard at work 'neath the Weeping Willow canopies ,
Bumblebees and Yellowjackets claim the stone- fruit
trees while aromatic Gardenia , Magnolia and Pine Sage belong
to Paper Wasp , Honey and Cuckoo Bees  
The Sunshine a long lost lover , the broom sage a friend
yet discovered
Cherokee brothers visit the Chattahoochee lowlands , Thor
rumbles on the Alabama border , the sky a mosaic of brilliant
hues , purple flowered grasslands and Morning Glory blues

A Spicebush Swallowtail
sipping nectar all day
Summer time is here.

Sister Yellow Swallowtail , please take me for an afternoon ride
To the tips of Douglas Firs with an Eagles view of rolling hillsides , o'er stained glass , picturesque Hill Country skies
For an afternoon twirl atop the tallest Oak , a flight within the Dogwoods by natural , splendid rote
A stop at Port Lake for refreshments and quiet reflection
A zig-zag trip home full of laughter and amazement* ..

Thrasher in the plum tree
Who ya hidin' from
Chirpin' in the canopy
Bold as the sun
A chirp to the Old Crow
A whistle for Bobwhite Quail
A bow and a wink for a Yellow
Swallowtail* ...

She spoke of swallowtail butterflies
In her native tongue,
Floating and drifting
To each new idea unsung.
But like a hummingbird
Caught in a net,
She was told to put
Her ideas to rest.

the cat in the sun
warmth with ease
interrupted by a
swallowtail soaring
circling
the cat stirs
from her quiet
something ancient calls
and in a close circle
a leap to join
merge with the path
but alas for the cat
an impossible wish
and now
just the sun
and rest
but now a bird
on the feeder..
all these distractions
from the sun
our distractions
the cat and I...

Swirling
  

Gusts out of the west
Burst through our open window
Blowing books, pictures, tapes, and papers
clear off the top of the bookshelf.
It's nearly August and the dry leaves sigh
as the wavy winds rise and fall.
the shadows freckle and sparkle
on the floors and furniture of this room.
the doors of the house open and close
with minds of their own, attuned to the moving air.
at first faraway then near, nature's breath
marches incessantly through the treetops.
this sunny day itself is excited about being.
irrepressible is the goodness of earth.
on Wednesdays like this the hues of the blues
of the skies themselves move lovingly among us.
a house sparrow anchors herself in the chain link fence.
the  yellow swallowtail butterfly takes a low flight path
just above the heads of the flowers.

I would greatly enjoy
Drinking a full bottle
Of blue sky, with
Cloud cubes.

And as a youngest
Quasi-only child
I have no basis
Upon which to babysit.

I keep a pocket-sized
Terrace with me
At all times
Purely for the flowers.

And it would be a
Jolly thing to have
An eight-year old
Dream come true.

On rare occasions
I wear dresses
And walk sedately
Through fields.

And once in awhile
The bird on my leg
Is a massive swallowtail
And tries to fly a feathery airplane.

Many thanks to the Black Swallowtail
that flew my way , unlocking needed creativity
on a vivid , picturesque Summer day* ...

I wonder why I get lost
Every time my mind wonders to Her.

She greets my heart first
With a furry of freshness so tender.

Her native announces her with "Nkiru"
Royalty with a golden Haem in her vein.

When She steps the roses blossoms by,
Perfuming the arena with an aromatic Reign.

A dime that can crack the ice,.
With the pick in her touch, she revives a dewy rain.

When she  switches on the globe in her lense,
On me a shadow of passion rest

Mimosa Pudica I am, her touch awakens my Sense.
Like the sky, she absorbs my sandy smoke with zest.

She is my mirror image
through my every gesture she sees

She is the second Eve to whom I bow.
The breast in her mouth forms nectar I **** like a buzzing bee.

At night a silent whisper to her i send
Patterned and adorned like a swallowtail

A gentle prayer
Indeed to keep her safe 'till I crown her nails...

her wings glinting shades of autumn
as low-angle sunlight fills the ash tree
and embraces all below in golden light

she glides around me twice and falls
scarred yellow swallowtail wings lie still
the cloud-veiled sun mourns a fallen daughter

i knelt to see dull eyes and a worn body
life-scared wings told combat tales
a life well-lived on any scale

You were round as the sun.
But you were the moon.
I thought you were deep as the ocean.
But you only fit in a teaspoon.

You were so full of color,
crimson, and gold.
But as the autumn trees, you shed your leaves
till you were bare to the bone,
like a carcass, the lions feasted on.

In you, I saw a Tiger Swallowtail butterfly.
But as we danced in the flames
you burned alive.
You turned into a moth that drowned
in the broth.
I swallowed you whole and cried.