Long Caterpillar Poems
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Oh, how wonderfully innocent
and juvenile, 'twas for me.
You, scooting surreptitiously.
closer and closer to me.
Like a soft, gentle caterpillar,
slithering and smiling.
Making its way home in the
still of the night.
I clutched my lovely, flowered
handkerchief.
Then my gold cross with a
sparkling aqua gem upon it.
Really, wanting to not say, no.
My blue eyed Tommy boy.
In the Elmwood Park Spring, we
were about to kiss.
Fireflies came to celebrate this
celebratory bliss.
When we were moving beyond
flirtation.
It was as though heaven were
sending particles of stars,
To bless the softness of this
sacred night.
Of huge elm tress, your strong
arms about me.
Finally, those soft, tender lips.
There in God's silent moonlight,
I had my first teenage kiss!
August 30, 2019
Inspired by writings of Robert Lindley.Thank you!
From the underside of a milkweed leaf you appeared to me, oh butterfly
you spanned and metamorph before my eyes
from a tiny caterpillar to a creature full of flame.
They call you the common tiger or the wanderer, but to me
you are "The Monarch," most regal butterfly of both heaven and earth.
To Southern Mexico you will soon migrate, just when the frost begins to settle, on the northern rooftops.
Like the tiny feathered birds that quiver as the winds of change appear,
one cool September day you will whisk yourself away.
Unlike the Asters & the morning glories, late bloomers of the season,
your short life span requires you to take flight, without treason.
Come to my flower garden one more time dear Monarch,
and show me the beauty that is truly thine. (pause)
From the underside of a milkweed leaf, you appear to me, butterfly
born to seize the sky you soar and aim for warmer weather ,
who could ever ask you, why ?
Written by: Vienna Bombardieri aka Mystic Rose
a young lass brought a caterpillar home with
her one day
she watched it spin its chrysalis - a slow and
sweet ballet
when hatched - a butterfly, she wept to see it
wing away
for it had bloomed before her - such beauty
and such grace
a husband heard his dear wife shriek,
attending her alarm
so feeling he had broken vows to keep her safe
from harm
until the nurse had placed their newborn baby
in his arms
and there it was before him - such beauty and
such grace
a girl recalling her first love - the day they said
goodbye
and all the incidental times her heart had
wondered why
until her dearest next to her had winked her
with his eye
and there it was beside her - such beauty and
such grace
a laughing lad was running toward the sea and
down a hill
when there upon the sand a songbird lay, so
cold and still
nearby its mate was singing and he ached to
hear the trill
for there it was before him - such beauty and
such grace
a dad who lost his daughter and had just laid
her to rest
so struggled ‘bout the organs she had willed at
her bequest
until he heard her beating heart … in someone
else's chest
and there it was before him - such beauty and
such grace
I watched the moon soft-dance upon a pool of
ruddy red
no stars for sake of its bright face upon that
where I bled
how odd that I should care when in a moment
I'd be dead
but there it was before me - such beauty and
such grace …
if life had been THAT moment, well, I would
have lived it, full ...
for there it was before me -
the beauty and …
the Grace.
DRUMBEAT
The early morning silence,
Pierced by the melody of the birds,
And coarse craw of the cock,
The bleating of the goats and sheep for fresh fodders,
Squirrels hopping to and fro,
Devouring the ripe palm nuts atop the palm trees,
Leaves glittering from the morning dews,
And the caterpillar found its abode slippery.
The grey hair that breaks the kolanut,
The hot drink that follows to waken the body as grey hairs would say,
The entreaties made to the "Chi",
Local brooms held by the kids greets the brownish sand,
Morning ash cartered away from the fire place,
The palm wine tapper sets out for the day,
Many a thing happened swiftly,
And morning was gone .
The loud sound of the ikoro,
Echoing in all corners of the village,
Beckoning on valours to array themselves,
I jolted out out of my hut,
In my redcap and my flute at hand,
With my flute played appraisal notes,
To announce my arrival to my hero.
Behold the hero,
The lion that kills the tiger,
"Odumnaegbuagu"
The glory of his people,
How strong art thou oh man of valour,
Lets appear in the battlefield ,
For the day is of victory,
Oh! My hero.
Mushroom Girl stood as tall as she could.
Wondering at the sound she heard in the woods.
There was a hiss, and a bit of a wiggle waggle swish.
She looked toward the ferns and made a gigantic wish.
Not a snake or an ogre, she said to the Goddess of the fey.
A tiny orange caterpillar crawled out, which made her day.
She had met him before and he had the best tales to tell.
She had actually conjured him up on an old wishing well.
Good day my lady, the caterpillar promptly said, tipping his hat.
I just escaped from a farm that had both a dog and a cat.
You are here now, she said, do you have a story or two?
I probably have ten of them, he replied, for the likes of you.
With my heart soaring, my bones groan and ache.
Over one's mental and body limits, pain forsakes
Since we all must look inward for our spirit.
An inborn vivacity that throbs with vitality merit.
You can't say I'll go today as—I am still arriving.
Look closely—each day I'm a spring bud thriving.
To sing in my new nest as a small bird with frail wings.
To be a caterpillar within a flower or sapphire in slings.
Regardless of the tides of time, I'm still a kid.
Life-span shadows hampered a merry slid.
Decades of experience heighten life's fears.
I still spoil it, yet it has degraded over the years.
Conflicts may emerge, and hurdles may appear.
But, as free-flying hawks, we soar without fear.
For the might within us is limitless and glorious.
With hope and drudgery, our lives are victorious!
We can overcome the pain and fears we face.
And gather the fortitude to proceed with grace.
Since we have an ideal resolve and limitless spirit.
And we can scale any hill, no matter how tall is it.
The innate liveliness that pulses with every beat.
A vital rhythm that is not in silence or defeat.
Amid the highs and lows, thrill and sorrow.
The heart's music hits on, a steady hollow.
So let's all swing to the eternal heartbeat of life.
Cherish the moment at hand and let pass of strife.
For it is in this dance that we discover our way.
To a life filled with love, guffaws, and endless play.
Avogadro sits,
quietly counting, counting,
counting, counting, count…
Warm breeze lifts my face.
Bright sun's flash closes my eyes.
Eternal moment.
Two water balloons,
Perched in an open window.
Ah! I see a hand!
One family, five thoughts
About tonight's boiled rice.
Too sticky for me!
Great wind blows. Oaks sway.
Caterpillar freezes mid-
Step. Senses motion.
Echoes of tiny
Voices, trail behind my three
Running, laughing sons.
A taste of melon.
A morning kiss remembered...
Cascading hair glides.
Chance to steal a kiss!
Ignoring the pimple, I
Move closer. Smell gum.
Please tell your students,
There is no such thing as cold,
Only lack of heat.
Butterflies, colors extraordinaire;
are a true example of Nature's art;
no finer paintings exist anywhere.
I wish I could halt time within my heart,
and freeze-frame their beauty for all to share.
A caterpillar, once an ugly thing,
beautifies flowers wherever it goes.
Emerging from a chrysalis, in Spring;
a butterfly flaunts exquisite new clothes
befitting that of a Queen or a King.
And its translucent scales diffract sunlight;
letting colors of every hue and shade,
feed Nature's insatiable appetite.
And those colorful patterns never fade:
I love watching gossamer wings in flight.
Standing in awe of Nature's creation;
I find butterflies so entertaining.
And unleashing my imagination;
I can feel my anxiety draining,
into a feeling of fascination.
I see a beautiful monarch butterfly
Gliding up in the backdrop of sky
Widespread wings caressed softly
By the sun and kissed by the wind
Arresting beauty of the universe
In the fleeting geometric pattern
Suspends me in numb awe
I see the complexity of life dialectics
Moving smoothly from one life form
To the other through reincarnation
Of one being passing through stages
So extremely distinct and separate
So uniquely uniform and wholesome
In one passionate attempt to reach
The perfection of lightness of being
Expressed in the pattern of wings
A tiny egg at the edge of a leaf
Of an orange milkweed hatches
Into a hungry caterpillar that is
Focused on eating and storing
Energy of leaves sun, and wind
Like solar panels equipped with
Tesla batteries absorbing sunrays
And converting them into energy
Of life then hanging itself on a branch
Upside down like crucified Peter
Slowly transforming into green
Magical shell that guards miracle
Of inexplicable transmutation
Happening inside steadfast cocoon
Where a caterpillar’s sleepy form
Mysteriously being transformed
Into a totally new living being
With one primary genetic ring
Holding the secret of life
Around which magical wings
Painted in arresting ornaments
Striking colors of stripes and rings
Butterfly emerges one morning
Out of the shell that she was confined
And flies into the blue open skies
Does it remember any of her past stages
Or each time she starts from the scratch
And sees this world in arresting awe
Over and over again as if she
Has never seen it before
Just like we do every time we are born?
Shedding leaves
dropping old memories
Like cutting your hair
lessening your loads of care
The autumn rain
like a cool shower
washing away remains
of burdens that used to tower
The warm October sun
peeking through clouds of gray
lighten my step
with every touch of ray
Folks perceive Spring
as a season of renewal and change
as the birds sing
and buds from the ground raise
But the cleansing begins long before
in the Fall
before the white snow
has a chance to freeze it all
Like how one must fall
before they can rise
The trees demonstrate this
before our very eyes
Think of a butterfly
emerging from their cocoon
When the caterpillar first wrapped themselves
they didn't emerge so soon
That is why Autumn
affectionately known as Fall
is my very favorite season
of them all