Butterfly Beyond Poems

When a child-  I loved to play, jump and run,
with my big sister who was my best friend;
but, one snowy day she died on...

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I could not for a moment, even if I wanted to.
I could never fly like a butterfly out back.
Or zip through raindrops like bubbles of...

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This world seems so care free,                   ...

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For my Mother 

We would nurture hands building pedestal.
What man nurtured women, matriarchal?

Procreation, Liberation, Choose one.
Some things we'll never fully understand.

Who made the moon as...

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The butterfly was once a caterpillar
Never forget,
Now just look at him
Precious to the eye,
Bride of the wind,
Wonder to us all,
Beauty lives in all places
All corners
Just...

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Beyond The Closet Door Of Intimacy.
.
Behind the locked closet door of intimacy
Two kindred glowing hearts and high spirited souls aflame
Naked as birth awakened by desire...

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when Animal Farm is not a feeding manual

and Clockwork Orange strikes at midnight

Dali’s time piece warps under face value

and an eagle-eyed-cuckoo flies over its nest


beneath...

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I was upset with the things around,
With all the ups and downs.
Is this what we call life or there is something else on which we...

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Blessings beyond or belief                     ...

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Poems live beyond every gate
Writing words sometimes just won’t wait
When butterfly wings flutter by
A blue jay chatters his reply
Must write a verse of highest rate

If...

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My hopes became big and bold
The mind could no longer hold
They grew wings of lofty desire
On birds flying in the squally air.
Through the arch of...

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from the extremely large to the very small, rocks have been game changers
  planet-sized melters, moon-makers
  asteroids with cataclysmic impact, dinosaur terminators
 ...

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Breathless and bare you subtly stare,
reckless with flair, I can barely stand-
You flutter your fingers through my hair, 
as I gently take your masculine hand....

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She is the sketch, never looked nice,incomplete and the loner.
She never glowed like princesses,
always at the back raw
and was never expected to bloom like Gerbera...

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Ornate is the ironwork that I peer through
as my fingers grasp the garden gate,
and I open my eyes to my Wonderland.

My bare feet step down...

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