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FIREFLY by Lovejoy-Burton, Leanne
Lampyridae FIREFLY by Lee Sr., James Edward
Butterfly - Firefly by Haight, Sandra
When You Wish Upon a Firefly by VILLAMIN, NIEVES
Firefly by Kashmala Kiran, Aliza
Firefly by Pal Chowdhury, Shubham
Firefly by A., Jake
Firefly by Ruff, Nick
Firefly Lane by Joe, Vanne
Lightening bug or Firefly or by Green, Chris

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The Best Firefly Poems

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A Small Bouquet Of My Word Groupings


you were an infant
i would sing a song i created for you

'there's a baby in my arms
there's a baby in the mirror
but honey 
there's not really two
the child in the mirror
is only 
an image 
of you'

in that same vein i write this

_

you can't hide inside a mirror
it wouldn't be good for your image
if you see what i mean
take a minute to reflect on that thought
frame it as you will
raise a glass to good cheers
this isn't the time to crack
or 
feel shattered 
no 
it is the exact reverse

like skipping a rock across the smooth surface of a lake
seven skips of good luck
because you are the fairest of them all

looking back at yourself 
keeping it compact
as you duplicate your own words 
impossible to read from the other side
this echo of your vision

the epitome of a prototype replicates

ditto 

who is the quintessential hero and who is the fake

go through that rabbit hole -straight to wonderland

bedazzle -radiate -glimmer -scintillate 
deflect
the glare will define you

you have not now or have ever been a duplicate
you are and will always be the one and only
-


Oct 2 2017 - love above all else love - armand

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BONUS POEM

But Tell Me Where Do The Children Play 

you can't lie your way to the truth
what we teach our children 
should apply to us too
you took a wrong turn
check your moral compass
the needle is spinning faster
than a bottle in search of a kiss 
what would our mother think
if she knew what you were up to
you're changing everything she fought for
in her life children mattered
like the singing preacher asked
such a long time ago
'...where do the children play...'

you can argue climate change
but you can't deny the quality of the air your breathing
when did we start bottling water just to take a drink
the taps are bleeding led 
too late to fix the guts of generations who drank it with trust
how do you look at a storm in the eye
didn't you already prove your blind
or do you keep yours closed so no one can look in
look deep inside your heart 

'...tell me, where do the children play?…'

Oct 2 2017- armand

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 BONUS POEM THE SEQUEL

Me? I Saw More.

the clown danced like a marionette 
his painted face featured a grimace
and

and a tear

me?
i saw more

i smiled
no fear here

a performer 
an amazing mime artist
a procurer of pathos

he was pulling a little red wagon
with a large orange hard ball
walking on the spot
performing 'funny'

me?
i saw more

we often have to carry more 
than we think we can handle
our shoulders grow
atlas carried the earth on his shoulder
when we think we can do no more
we do even more than we need to

i saw more
the power of one
we don't need help
we need initiative 
no brother or sister's need
is less important than our own
'give and you shall receive'

we are all more
it takes a strong child 
to raise the values of a village
i can't win unless we all win
we have tried the blame game
five thousand years later

nothing

we are being led by weak men
want bigger and bigger guns
at a time when we have enough weapons
destroy the earth hundreds of times over

money is 
has always been
evil

me?
i see more
i see you
and you 
and you

ghandi was right then
ghandi is right now

do you see

Oct 2 2017- armand

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 BONUS POEM THE SEQUEL TOO

Firefly


i am going to touch you
like a firefly touches 
the dead of night
lights the obscurity 

i want to illuminate 
the pitch dark of your perspective 
inject a bright glow of hope
cleanse your thoughts of the negative

did you argue today 
felt regret
did the daily news invade your cheer
turned your 'in the pink' to something 'blue'

i am going to reignite  your sense of calm
wave a wand -make your heart smile 
warm your complexion to a glow
spread your goodwill worldwide

life i assure you isn't a rotting corpse
you have the strength 
rise above the doom and gloom
you are presently living

the alternative is an untimely exit
unnecessary 
i believe in laughter
and i believe in unconditional love

more
i believe when your back is against the wall
persistence will create a door
a passageway out of the muck and mire

no matter how thick the fog
it only takes a breeze
to clear a path
one you can ride to your destination of choice

Oct 2 2017- armand

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BONUS POEM THE REBOOT

Colour Me Ill 

i tried to fly today
nothing deep here
this isn't that type of poem
didn't go that well
i fell flat on my fa fa fa face
(pardon my stutter
a temporary side effect of the fa fa fa fall)

i wasn't writing any poetry
at the hospital either
all joking aside 
there was a lot of blood
did you know that doctors 
have no sense of humour

i was slurring anyways
you gotta love that morphine
they were cleaning up the blood
i said thanks dr. acula 

not even a snicker
and i'm not speaking of a chocolate bar
wasn't even my joke
stole it from Mitch Hedburg

coincidentally the doctor left me in stitches

the nurse said she was taking me for an X-ray 
i didn't really hear her but she was a knockout
something ..x 
sounded go go good to me
i was running in front of the wheelchair she was pushing
i was excited

we got somewhere 
she left
you gotta love that morphine
i must of impressed them
they thought i was a model
they took pictures of me
Bi Bi Big pictures
you should of seen the size of the negatives 
i ordered ten sets 

they pushed me outside and left
pa pa par for this course

suddenly my nurse date was back
they always come back

aanndd 
she's gone 


Oct. 2 2017- armand




Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2017


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This Gypsy Soul

This gypsy soul is on the road It leaves castles far behind It abandons ghostly mist which sabotages the caravan of life It passes along the mountainside by golden hay fields where daises bloom by stream of waters which sweeps a withered rose towards the decayed lumber flume This gypsy soul is on the road from Edinburgh to Lochlomond against high winds,against the rain against aquatic monsters of pain This gypsy soul is on the road to the woodlands of your heart where I would camp inside your tent as our blissful thoughts impart This gypsy soul within myself and all the woman in me would wantingly await your fingertips to compose soft pastel fantasy The smell of early coffee then fills our empty cups The song of the cicada would echo in the shrubs And as the chimney smoke drift sideways in the breeze as warm dappled light filters through purple pansy leaves The pressing of my lips would leave their crimson mark below your sun- kissed cheek My arms would cling around your once a muscular physique We laze upon a hammock strung between two old oak trees I play on your guitar,my hundred melodies As the incandescent half moon rises above the dusky hue and orange paper lanterns float high in cobalt blue We'd chase the opalescent glow of a million firefly You'd be able to touch me before last embers die This gypsy soul is on the road in search to be set free Across bridges,on a journey your compass-my destiny.


Copyright © Charmaine Chircop | Year Posted 2014


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A Mother's Envy and Pride

Lapis lazuli mines with wide blue eyes
bringing to mind precious stones and
caramel scones; innocent and wise -
Wondering, yet without surprise.

Staring down the universe, a challenge
in your look though you are young;
The earth made only nine revolutions 
since you came out to see the sun.

Unguarded and arched, your brows 
betray high wire tension; enough 
to light up a hundred moons and warm
plump cheeks to cherry bubble gum.

Be not impatient to grow; you smell
of open grasshopper meadows
and firefly lighted lakeshore walks.
You’re a mother’s envy and pride.

Red lips! Your passion for life exists.
Scarlet, lipstick would be a surfeit -
Today as then till many summer’s been,
your spirit will always be free as the mist.



After:  Portrait of Carol Nye  Rhoades (Robinson) (1915)


For Debbie Guzzi's Challenge: Ten Pictures, Ten Poems, Ten Days - Painting No. 2
Kim Patrice Nunez
08 January 2016

Poem of the Week:  January 10-16, 2016


Copyright © KP Nunez | Year Posted 2016


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This Gypsy Soul

This gypsy soul is on the road It leaves castles far behind It abandons ghostly mist which sabotages the caravan of life It passes along the mountainside by golden hay fields where daises bloom By streams of waters which sweeps a withered rose towards the decayed lumber fume This gypsy soul is on the road from Edinburgh to Loch Lomond against high winds,against the rain,against aquatic monsters of pain This gypsy soul is on the road to the woodlands of your heart where I would camp inside your tent as our blissful thoughts impart This gypsy soul within myself and all the woman in me would wantingly await your fingertips to compose soft pastels'fantasy The smell of early coffee then fills our empty cups The song of the cicada would echo in the shrubs And as the chimney smoke drift sideways in the breeze as warm dappled light filters through purple pansy leaves The pressing of my lips would leave their crimson mark below your sun-kissed cheek My arms would cling around your once muscular physique We laze upon a hammock strung between two old oak trees I play on your guitar my hundred melodies As the incandescent half moon rises above the dusky hue and orange paper lanternes float high in cobalt blue We'd chase the opalescent glow of a million firefly You'd be able to touch me before last embers die This gypsy soul is on tne road in search to be set free Across bridges on a journey,your compass -my destiny.
This is a repost of a poem I've written the 30th of April 2014


Copyright © Charmaine Chircop | Year Posted 2015


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A long, long time ago on a cold winter's night


A long, long time ago on a cold winter's night A long, long time ago on a cold winter’s night Two hearts were broken the crest of the eve This is the story of how it all happened How friendship will conquer if you just believe ~~~~~~~~ Soft are the wings of the firefly princess Twilight the scene of her flickering light Pine needle whispers aflutter of springtime Alone on this evening in silence her flight Warm April breezes caressing her body Slumbering daffodils, gold leaf embossed Shining, her beacon illumines the valley Twinkling sad of a friend she had lost Wandering sadly neath evergreen niches Shadows and silhouettes bend at her glow Hard to imagine her tiny heart broken Far from the beauty this night she does show When then she sees him alone on a hillside A pen in his hand as he quietly writes Silently floating, she lands on his shoulder Kind is his face that her glow gently lights Noticing teardrops upon his cheeks falling “Why are you crying?” she asks him sincere Startled, he looks at her, eyes wet and weary “Oh little firefly, what has brought you here?” He turned away gazing off up at the moonlight Then shook his head as more words he wrote down “I miss her so much,” he said in a whisper His mouth once he finished returned to a frown She knew how he felt for her heart it was broken One winter’s evening, a cold misty day Taken from sleep by her jealous big sister Evil her magic had whisked him away Just then she noticed that things felt familiar Something about him jarred her memory It can not be, visions rambled within her This can not be my friend taken from me “If I may ask sir, please when did you lose her?” She fluttered her wings so excited to hear Her light now as bright as the full moon above them Here on this hillside the skies ever clear “It’s hard to remember, but sometime last winter, a sorceress came on the solstice I think From by her side I was suddenly taken, found myself here just as quick as a wink” “Since then I’ve cried on this hillside we frolicked Writing her poetry, words how I feel Sorrow and sadness in harmonic phrases Verses my broken heart could not conceal” “The saddest part is it is merely a feeling, only her smile is what I can recall I know she was real for my heart does remind me, the rest is a blur, almost nothing at all” She thought and she thought of her wicked old sibling Remembering tears drops from friendships that fell When mixed together might change what had happened Glistening together, they could break the spell She took one of hers that she saved since December Flew to his cheek were a steady stream flowed Placed her own teardrop within his now weeping To her amazement, his body it glowed Shimmering sparkles like fireworks bursting A magical sheen filled the heavens above A blink of her eye and he changed right before her He now was a firefly, the one that she loved His eyes grew as wide as a sunflower smiling Flapping his wings like he’d never before Looking at her, his light brightly was gleaming He said, “I remember, you’re my friend I adore” He was so happy, he flew up and hugged her “I missed you,” he said “never leave me again We’ll fly and we’ll hide far away from your sister” Then he looked down and he noticed his pen He lifted it up and then flew to the paper Flapping his wings he penned one final line It read that they lived happily ever after From now in this moment, till the end of time ~~~~~~ So there you have it, a tale of best friends Missing each other once taken apart Knowing now that every happiest ending Can always be found if you look in your heart
2/13/17 Written for the Fairy Tale for Children Poetry Contest Sponsored by: Eve Roper


Copyright © Chris Green | Year Posted 2017


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Fantasy World

Was it real or in a dream
Wizards and kings, chocolate ice cream
Dinosaurs roamed from early morn
Flying zebras and a unicorn
Dancing in the sky from star to star
Travel the universe in a flying car
Make believe ship manned by pirates and thieves
And a tree that was covered with spearmint leaves
No one cared about silver or gold
We were children again who would never grow old
There was a horse in the field talking to a mule
My cat said horses can't talk, don't be a fool
I told my cat that the prince once was a frog
A firefly whispered your cat once was a dog
The earth began rumbling but I took it in stride
I just jumped on my rug for a magic carpet ride
I stopped on a mountain when I reached the peak
A polar bear asked me whom do you seek
I reached for the bear and he began to smoke
Then a penguin stopped by and told me a joke
I flew back to earth when I heard a bell toll
As fate would have it, I ran into a troll
He huffed and he puffed and smiled and said
Come have a conversation with my talking head
The head was a monster but I wasn't afraid
He said I'm getting a body as soon as I get paid
Then I walked down a road that was red and yellow
I noticed the shrubs were made of strawberry jello
Suddenly a space ship landed from out of the sky
In a field that was filled with banana cream pie
This may be hard to believe but i swear that it's true
As sure as my skin is green and my hair is blue.


Copyright © Vince Suzadail Jr. | Year Posted 2011


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Burning Passion

Touching fingers off 
deep fire melting tips 
sweetly burning brushes 
inside warmly walls 
Within four chambers 
echoes whispering silently 
softly desires warm when skipping a beat 

Oh you talk the words 
of the sweetest golden honey 
intoxicating mead 
The drunken spirit dancing 
swoons just in thoughts alone 
In what you said darling 
I blame you smiling 
you're a regal beauty 

Whom I will kiss 
hovering gently over your fingertips 
softly holding one's vision 
A flame left under the silver moon 
dancing with you're shadow of my soul 
one firefly beaming beautiful 

In the night sky a light from you 
shines in each passing new moon 
takes a step closer 
just to know all the right words to say darling 
I'll kiss you till you're calm and then you would be mine.. 
or maybe i'll wait for the star 
to shine upon that beautiful day


Copyright © liam mcdaid | Year Posted 2014


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Eclectic Wonders in Seasonal Flowers --- A Collab

Words in italic by Angeline Lim
Words in regular font by Timothy Hicks



Hydrangea blues
blooming in seven colors
versatile at heart
 
Storm clouds in a tantrum and yet
the rainbow
 
Gently wipes away a facade
reveals a layer
hidden within
 
Pretty just like yesterday
red-hot pokers
 
Playing fireworks 
on lovers' palates 
scintillating senses
 
The shared spaghetti noodle
growing shorter
 
Sunlight fading
into a sweet dream
aromatic  Osmanthus
 
'tween the slits of enclosed fingers
flashes of a firefly
 
Smolders of passion
unfolding within
Chrysanthemum  mysteries
 
Instead of the bee
her tender touch
 
Frozen fixture
all the yellow once in the field
now in the moon
 
Aesthetic display
of a crystallized Rose quartz
 
The snowy hills
at this time a strange warmth
morning blush
 
Purplish Crocuses
pop their cheerful heads up kisses blown
 
Thinking himself
to be King Arthur
startled butterflies
 
Surprised Tulips
opening lips with an exclamation
 
August heat!
there goes the evidence
of the snail
 
Spiraling down a Corkscrew vine
into a time portal



P.S. Haven't been on lately ... hope all is well with everyone :)


Copyright © Timothy Hicks | Year Posted 2016


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A silent wish


As we sit looking out over strawberry sherbet skies, breathing in the solitude of twilight’s scented breeze, remembering the passing day and laughing at firefly sparkles glistening in our eyes I see the evening’s first star appear beyond pine tree shadows, above a drowsy horizon, an opal on a deep violet canvas illuminating the desires forever glowing in my heart, and I make a silent wish Enchanting cricket song wafts through the fields in harmony with our heartbeats, when you take my face in your rose petal hands and kiss me, sweeter than jasmine pudding, taking my breath completely away Then resting your head on my shoulder you sigh, telling me I am everything you have ever wished for and you will love me forever… as I look up at that star once more and whisper, “thank you”


Copyright © Chris Green | Year Posted 2016


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Simplicity's Gifts

Cockle shell candles and firefly lights
padding the path to the woods
Grass crunched and scattered in weeds and in patterns
of the way every garden should look
Cobblestone herb baths and sleepy old stars
shooting the breeze in the dark
Waiting for someone to wish and discover
the cobblestone path in their heart
Night time is patient and fragile and ancient
with secrets just bursting to share
Turn up the jasmine and glow in the shadows
with eyes open wide to the moon
Luxuries lunar light swinging old stars
parading their final hurrah
Flittering fireflies brush up on moves as they
follow the trails of the heart
Pumpkin shaped lanterns delight the warm eye
orange and gold muted voice
Hanging from tree limbs bent down to oblige
and also to be understood
Fly on with sonar and pipe cleaner wings
soaring above all the lights
Lit up like secrets, hovering, weaving
simplicity's gifts of the night...


Copyright © Tatyana Carney | Year Posted 2005


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Summer's Wish

One night a-twinkling in the sky, I spied a clever firefly Who glowed the same faint silver-gray As stars a million miles away. ***** Although most stars remain afar I reached out with a big glass jar Then with a quick and sudden -SWISH- I caught a twinkling summer's wish! ***** I whispered to him my desire, Then set him free -- that twinkling fire. With lightning speed he went, and soon He twinkled right on past the moon. ***** Now when I'm in the dark of night. If I but look, I'll see his light. A-twinkling faithful in the sky My clever little firefly!


Copyright © The Grahamburglar | Year Posted 2015


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A Stranger After Dark

I was sitting on the back porch ‘bout an hour after dark When I couldn’t help but notice a tiny pulsing spark. I thought it was a firefly – It had that kind of glow But I’d never seen the likes of it – what it was I didn’t know It flittered to and fro just like a firefly does I went into the backyard to determine what it was. Just as I approached the place I thought that it might be It flew right up and landed very close to me. Soon I realized it was no ordinary find. What happened next you won’t believe – it nearly blew my mind. A Lilliputian creature stepped from this tiny craft Right then and there I was aware of questions I should ask. He must have been aware of the fear he’d caused in me. I could see my hands were shakin’ -- never thought I’d be set free. His tiny voice became quite clear and in a most convincing tone He said, “My friend, be not afraid – I‘m here all alone.” He appeared to be confused a bit and why, I’ll never know But the fear that he had fostered was about to let me go. He began to tell his story; I let out a sigh I knew I’d better listen to this little guy. Now, he was small in stature; ‘bout a half inch, nothin’ more – Why, I believe that he could pass through the space beneath the door. . He then began to tell me – It must sound like a dream. He was here because of some wayward sunbeam. “I race Haley’s comet to the far side of the sun.” He said, “The race is always over before it has begun. There is a reason for these victories, you see My good ship Omnipresence, right here in front of me.” “Time and space,” He said. “Are always at my command. I can do more things with them than man can understand.” He said, “I spin the rings of Saturn, create firmament at will I flew a mission of atonement to a very special hill.” I asked, “Do you know Jesus? He died upon that hill.” He said, “When all things are settled, everybody will. I led three wise men to him that cold and wintry night The shepherds were there to witness a miraculous sight So you ask do I know Jesus? -- it fills me with such mirth -- This very craft was hidden there at the moment of His birth. I was there to hear the angels when they sang out on high. Yes, I’d say I know Jesus, That’s why I’ll never die.” Written By John Posey 12/18/12


Copyright © John Posey | Year Posted 2012


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PLEASURES OF HER SWAY




As chandeliers drip ‘round the hall
Bouquets' scent wafts through night’s affair.
In gown of lace she sways with flair
Until her man bows ,to enthrall
A glide of waltz into soft flight,
Where other pairs hope to find bliss
On firefly steps, perhaps a kiss
That her arms fling to breath’s delight.

In whirling turns, she lifts in style
And a roulette from dancing guests
Enchants the tunes of pleasure’s zest
While coy romance drifts and beguiles.
The violin presses a hum
As her glossed eyes casts on his face,
Igniting dipped waists to succumb
Within the fling of an embrace.


Ballroom Delights Contest
12/1/2014




Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2014


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Conglomerate Heart

Isn't the Heart like a snowflake
beating so very cold at times
as to freeze an angel's wings
in goblets of devilish wine

Isn't the Heart like a monkey
swinging from vine to indigo vine
leaving a smile or a scratch
on the eaves of a hopeful face

Isn't the Heart like a firefly or star
breathing life into sable skies
pulsing a lover's lavender soul
with a lute made of fading scars

Isn't the Heart like a raft
made for one...sometimes two
like birdsongs sewn from frosted glass
a beauty to be remembered 
but never one to last

Isn't the Heart like a garden or maze 
casting a million gossamer rainbows
always leaving melancholy memory
while honoring the spirit of the rain

The Heart is an orphan made of silk,
the charred soul of a runaway king...
the heart is a whispering zero-echoing
off the granite walls of infinity...
the heart is everything's
everything


 





Copyright © Anthony Slausen | Year Posted 2013


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REINCARNATION THINKING

REINCARNATION THINKING?

Life is like a coloring book
with few or many pages
filled with complex 
outlined images.

We are given a box of crayons
and are asked to color in the 
background and spaces of the images

Sub-titles are allowed.

When the coloring book is finished
we are given a new one to complete.

C.A.K. 12-6-2012


REINCARNATION THINKING 2 -SOUL SEARCHING

Was I once before or never
Don’t know how or even whether

I was a firefly, a bird of prey 
a centipede, a fish fillet?

A baseball fan to keep the score
a mockingbird, a carnivore?

A blossom in the midst of spring
a sign of what the day might bring.

A germ grown in a Petri dish
a chicken bone an unmade wish

All things and species could I be,
even remnants of a tree.

Of all of these,  I leave this post,
I am for now what I am most.

CAK 7-23-2012



MORE QUESTIONS ON RE-INCARNATION

As 'core' beliefs thicken so, 
does it leave us room to grow?
As aging souls say we must, 
complete the cycle which was thrust
upon our bucolic living place 
turned upside down in whorling space
searching for a redemptive life.

But for you, dearest one, do you not remember 
before you arrived, you took this bucking horse of soul, 
tamed it, labeled it and proclaimed it. 
To become what you needed in order
that your ride be contained and controlled. 
It's name is 'balance' and it keeps you level in the saddle 
so you don't fall off. 

10-3-2012


REINCARNATION THINKING 3 -

If, we are on a soul journey,
then what must that soul become?

A better soul? A wiser soul?
A sad soul? A learned soul?
Until one reaches the end of time,

There are so many lives to live out
to fully experience all aspects of this world.
Animals, plants - more souls searching?

One can speculate, but from my perspective
none of it makes sense.

CAK 4-03-2012


REINCARNATION ENDING

Was the Phoenix reincarnated?
Or was its embers reignited?  
Perhaps before a lowly worm or soldier bee 
or brown turned leaf upon a tree? 
A  seahorse, a shark, which fish shall I be?  
In fisherman's net to be eaten by me?  
And when the cycle is complete 
and x equals x on our balance sheet.
Can we then rest in a celestial lair 
with memories gone and unaware
of trials by all things forgotten?
If choose I must or chosen by me,  
I'll remain in the stars and just wait to see.

6-2-2012


Copyright © Allan Koven | Year Posted 2013


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Rough Roads To Roam

The flames of the furnace (well-travelled by wind
slowly glazing the rags of gray women chagrined
at the sight of a hair fleeing tresses now thinned) 
sometimes billow like waves flooding naves through the night,
when the lightning peeks in where the tension hangs tight
while the lanterns, alarmed, appear fulgent with fright.

Having lost both his hands, and now dancing for dimes,
Captain Hook haunts the alleyway's rivers of rhymes,
sometimes singing or prancing to mimic the mimes
with white faces contorted to pillars of pain,
as the ringmaster murmurs “we're all the insane”
and the inmates dunk donuts in droplets of rain.

With their hammers in hand, in their plum pinafores, 
Satan's soldiers of fortune wield powers of Thor's
leaving blood on bent bodies, the tombstones of wars
lining highways and byways  with manna and gold
for the mastermind movers, survivors consoled 
with some pie in Valhalla (or so they've been told).

Above boulevards, battered with batches of bricks,
flys the Duchess of Dawdle on waxed candlesticks;
while she watches, debauches, her Gigolo tricks 
as he talks (on their walks in the summer-day parks 
where a parrot kneels praying, a parakeet barks)
’bout the buffed brazen beaks of the latter-day larks.

Hoary goblins glow gruesome, they leap from the loft
to the hard-hearted rues, shedding tears that they've quaffed
through the night of the dead as the clarinets coughed
and the keepers kept watch so that no one escaped
dingy dungeons where priests and their puppets hide caped
behind walls lined with tulips and justice hung draped.

In the Garden of Eaten, where apples once grew,
lie the bones, somewhat blanched, from the last barbecue
and the snakes strut like storks down a lost avenue
along tracks  like the cracks on the mask of the moon
all alight with the shadows that seep down a dune
as the firefly crawls from a crimson cocoon.

Phantom trains travel tunnels (dispatched in all haste),
voiding tickets to nowhere, it seems such a waste
to see roadblocks with red lights at dead ends misplaced
at the base of the bowels of the bottomless pit
where reflections of life seem so damned counterfeit 
from the back of the eyes of the blind hypocrite.

Lady cockroaches, camped in the Countesses' beds,
are commanding crusaders to fit arrowheads
to the ends of burnt bridges suspended by threads 
from frayed thongs of diminutive bald balladeers 
taunting Cerby, the three-headed dog, serving beers
to the pagan disciples of bold puppeteers.

The oceans lay barren, the garbage dumps filling
with fracking and cracking and lead water spilling,
for milling and drilling are thrilling but killing
the birds and the beasts and the tea leaves, soon falling,
yet gurus roast chestnuts but can't heed their calling
while mauling and crawling on knees while they're brawling.

Unshorn sheep in the meadow are led to the bay
to be brainwashed and fleeced, trusting donkeys that bray
of the virtues of demons that haunt yesterday,
while the vultures deflower the turtle dove lanes
where the blood trickles up and the cruel crimson stains
Easter eggshells and feathers – that’s all that remains.

One eyed bees pilot lines through electrical storms
and blind hornets hum hymns when they're swirling in swarms
while the rest are repressed as the blue marble warms
(regent Queens losing sight that the end has begun)
and for eyes of the ewes, veils of wool have been spun  
and the wasps fly their flags from the butt of a gun.

Seven trumpets (attempting to echo the horns
of the Siamese goats and the three Unicorns
giving birth to the mirth in the temple of thorns)
sound the bugles of sorrow inside of the sea
of crazed lies of the wormwood afloat like a pea
in a pod of dark dolphins that can't disagree.

Often bellowed by barkers, to crowds with no faces,
are words (in their aftermath, leaving no traces)
of picnics and parties in limbo-like places
on paths to perdition where pundits are preaching
and sirens belch bullets while pirates prowl, breaching
the shadow's barbed branches, with whistles blown, screeching.

They're dissecting dissenters that dare to annoy
and then trample with jackboots sent in to destroy,
until taming the toes of the last Gypsy boy
who gets caught in the craw of their cold catacomb
with no rescue by running nor staying at home,
and no freedom to breathe, only rough roads to roam.


Copyright © Terry O'Leary | Year Posted 2016


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To a Firefly

You flit around the marshes and in places warm and wet.
as a beetle you’re about as bright as any bug can get!

You have a tiny flashlight built into your small tummy,
but for foes, your bio-luminescence is not yummy!

Though when a creature tastes you, they’re sure to spit you out,
There’s  something even better that your light is all about!

You’re looking for a sweetie when you flash your little glow,
and when you synchronize in groups, it’s like a disco show!

How I loved to chase you when I was just a kid,
and I’d catch you in a jar with holes poked in its lid.

That wasn’t nice of me. It must have caused you fright.
You were only lending magic to my summer night.

How I miss you, lightning bug, known as firefly.
And how I wish that I could see you in this western sky.

Even in the Midwest state that I left behind
I hear you are becoming more difficult to find.

Too many fields paved over; no places you can hide.
Too many lights from people and too much pesticide.

People use their headlights; this is confusing you.
Your blinking light gets all mixed up. You don’t know what to do.

Fewer are the places where, dear firefly, you can stay.
How sorry we will all be when your magic fades away!


Written July 16, 2016 for the contest of  David Lindsay


Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2016


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Glow worm

Velcro ripped and soda fizz
Velvet crushed Moroccan night
Nocturnal buterflies those flickering fireflies
Our winking spies like circling satelites
Coming together , we fissures of light
Delicious refrain  we split like  pomegranite
Love spinning round the  sun and the planets
Mortally chiselled on tombstone of granite

Hark ! Who goes there this Luciferous night
Its only I with my faltering lantern
Dragging behind attached little light
Fallen firefly - slow creeping glow worm
Mid air flight hangs the hateful things we said
Farewell this, heres lookin' at you kid


Copyright © Jannie Breedt | Year Posted 2017


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An Iowan's Heart

The sweet green hills of Iowa were once my home
Till I moved west where buffalo once used to roam.

I now live in a valley, mountains all around.
It’s lovely, but there’s not one firefly to be found.

I don’t miss Iowa’s muggy air, for here it’s dry,
But how I miss the pretty farms with corn so high!

I miss the summer twilights spent with family
And seeing mighty Mississippi roll past me.

To stay here where I am now seems my destiny,
And yet an Iowan’s heart will always beat in me.


Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2011


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Palette In The Sky

Soft, pastel-pink, aqua, sepia
Turning sharp, gold, striking
The sky is a willing canvas
Waiting to be kissed
By the palette of colours
Multi-shaded layers dapple the heavens
The pace of life is set to slow
Announced by the sleepy, restful sun
Her dying rays cast playful shadows
Open to interpretation!
Liquid gold outlines the classic oak tree
So near, and yet so far!
The firefly dances with excitement
Her luminous tail aglow
And the songthrush folds down her wings
Relaxing in the still warm air
Soft peach clings to the buildings
While strong apricot dresses the windows
From liquid gold to burnt orange
Now a mauve sheet covers the horizon
The crisp silhouette of the tawny owl
Graces the evening magenta sky
And the crickets begin their shrill song
Heralding the arrival of the long, dark night
Seductive winking stars and the creamy moon
Commence their clandestine romance
Wildlife dare not relax
Predators lurk in the jet black ether!
Gradually, the backdrop loses its ebony
And the scenery takes on an intense cobalt blue
The gentle dawn is slowly approaching
The softest lilac bedecks a fresh morning sky
Irridescent speckles espied through the laurel bush
Dewdrops like glass drape the orchid
Reflecting the fiery citrus blanket above
Before turning warm, cheerful lemon
And powder soft azure blue
This kaleidoscopic carpet starts its journey
On a never-ending cycle of wonder


Copyright © Diane Forth-Eglon | Year Posted 2011


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Chasing Butterflies

***************************

Trying to catch a butterfly

***************************

Is like trying to catch a dream

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A dream, with colourful wings

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Watching it fly, flying away

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Like time as a firefly

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Trying to catch a dream 

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A dream, with fluttering wings

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All you know, all you've seen 

***************************

All you love and all your dreams

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Flying away ~ These moments

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These chances, these days 

***************************

Like butterflies in your hands

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Butterflies like Peter Pan

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All these wonderous things

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Tinkerbell, with glittering wings

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Time walking through dreams

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Castles in the sand 

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Butterflies in your hand

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Chasing, beautiful butterflies...

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...Don't let go ~






Note: *This is a repo from *dear
John with *love always *sarah ~







Copyright © sarah seraphin | Year Posted 2011


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Electricity

You could feel it couldn't you
son who has left the room
mother electricity
the 1,000 bolts
10,000 volts
(not even 27 years could cure)

I give myself over
I fall
and I gladly go
i swan dive
to rock bottom

I will face that stone
I will smack
I will crack
Nd still I will be reborn

caught on a wave
so Drakar delicious
it sticks to my skin
and I stay close to it's heavenly scent.

this perfect
nameless thing

I am a lost puppy aimlessly circling
in an undertow
a tamer of wild lions
the gladly caged walking the plank into a cushion of clouds
moon walking
dream talking
smiling for my day of execution

if only you could measure the room
see the lightning
see the electricity
of soon to be lovers
joined with the power
the power
of love?

why i could make love in the air yet
i could be completely clothed
swaddled
in bondage
and still I could make love.
who needs kisses
They are there in the air like raindrops
currents
fresh flowers
fruits that can be taken by the armload
they are in the molecules
the atoms
the tributary
the neural net
a direct link
to the future we

all else palls in comparison
becomes laughable
i recognize the breadcrumbs
from the bread

the utter peace makes me a want Snow White sleep
makes me want to surf the day in my elven' dreams
to keep my secret safe from time
to firefly fly or to catch in a jiffy jar
what is us

Our lovely mad chemicals combining
our arcs & magnificent architectures
explosions too delicious
to taste...(or keep?)


Copyright © Meghan G | Year Posted 2012


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INTO THE GAIETY OF SPRING




A parade of virginal buds peep in delight Feasting on the wonder of spring reborn Dressed in purple, orange and red sunlight The rhapsody of garlands kindles new dawn As crimson sky rolls the hues upon thirsty lawn Swelling with April’s vow of cherished flings When passion beams long after hours fade to dusk And each burst of gaiety blooms on firefly wings Enticing one radiant day to strip clouds’ husk With pleas for an extended spring, do we dare to ask? ------------- Contest for Brian Strand


Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2012


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firefly

Floating aimlessly
Lantern tail kisses dark night
Disappear again


Copyright © james knox | Year Posted 2009


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THE FIREFLY

                                                   THE FIREFLY

Dancing in the moonlight,
Twinkling through the trees,
Sparkling in the meadow grass,
Like diamonds on the leaves.

Flitting 'bout the garden,
'Midst the Jasmine and the Rose,
No one knows from whence they come,
But everybody knows,

That Summer brings the fireflies,
With gaily twinkling lights,
To decorate the evening,
Like jewels in the night.

                                 
                             Judy Ball


Copyright © Judy Ball | Year Posted 2011