Long Cocoons Poems
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Written: January 07, 2024
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eyes are soul gates even in disguise they do not lie
visual cues that transcend verbal expression
but it also shares one's mood with lenticular opiates
spanning an effluvium-trail-laden sky
select a person and share eye contact while whimpering
gaze might betray a false grin quoth-trust aegis
stupendous azure eyes! aggregations of night elixir
spellbind the world with an aura of simmering
wispy pearls in her eyes—soul rises without adronitis
I cross cosmic cloisters and Eden's bright bower
I grip men truths in their odd dismal ways
the sheer number of words is overwhelming
once cupid arrows hit a cosmic glow covers the world
glorious as sharpness of your sight and dawn dew
her azure eyes purify and calm me as oceanic waves
no drift inbred ocean fowls flutter feel felicity
ethereal eyes whisper to my soul sparkling with glee
pristine eyes hypnosis a wish for propinquity shine
as the sun rises shards of light reveal her eyes
dreams sap my mind cocoons and eyes beguile me
after inhaling and kissing goldenly—all else is plain
all the grace I skipped—in the sun wind and rain
as dew at dawn chatoyant eyes embrace you
butterfly-like in gestalt despite a sanguine heartbeat
those eyes are as sibilant as the rising sun
they send doves soaring and senses roaring
some eyes are drenched in love until they sparkle
delphic soul shy—untamed my love never defamed
grateful for blue skies—for all—and blue eyes for you
Rays of sunlight caress our naked skin
ever so softly, through the leaves of trees.
And feelings of ecstasy stir within;
as gentle breezes titillate and tease.
And immodesty kicks back the covers;
exposing a tangle of arms and feet.
And a warm sensation cocoons lovers;
in a sweaty blanket of prickly heat.
Passion's pulse sets the rhythm for two heartbeats
that merge into one, then begin to race.
And with bated breath, like fevered athletes
they acquiesce; to love's tender embrace.
And melt into a heaving state of bliss;
while punctuating feelings with a kiss.
I was feeling grand like the leader of the band,
But you departed south to a Caribbean island; and it was
Just about the time I fell for you and was quickly set aflame.
I thought you would return, but back to me you never came.
Nevertheless, I got over you and never pouted or cast blame.
And then, after a long season, by chance, I saw you on a bus.
That's when I knew for sure; that was clearly the end of us.
So yes, you broke my heart, but I was able to make a new start.
Yes, I managed to overcome you, but I'm not saying that it wasn't hard.
You were very high class, but things started to unravel so very fast.
I had no reason to think that the joy we began to share wouldn't last.
No, you were not the first, and as time unfolded, you wouldn't be the last.
There were others who whispered sweet sounds into my ears and quietly passed. I'm no iron man, but this heart of mine became experienced in the school of aching, and it seems that each of my heartaches and breaks hurt differently than the last breaking. It hurts real bad when love ends so soon, striking at noon, and the flame is out by the entry of the moon. Maybe it was Memphis, or perhaps Sioux Falls or Chicago, or was it San Juan, Puerto Rico? The time came when it really didn't matter anymore; when I slowly closed the door and let it go. Funny thing about heartbreaks; they are unique but all feel the same, so filled with pain. I tell you, there is no shame, and I think that like the butterfly, I learned to fly from lessons 'in cocoons of strain'.
020121FBPSCtest, 'Break My Heart, Why Don't Cha', Edward Ibeh
An almost stillness came about
as she strode into my door,
like breath itself refused to move,
fearful of touching her mysterious beauty
But her obsidian eyes betrayed her.
Sharp and gleaming,
with a silver sheen
she looked at me,
and I knew…
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Molten lava spilled forth from her mouth, melting our clocks—
eighteen hundred nightmares compressed in two hours.
Long hand moving forward, as the short hand moved backward
How can memories persist in such an acrid life?
She spoke of a beast in the guise of a man,
one who ravaged innocence with the flick of a click
A coward that collected milk teeth for hardened bones
of other horny beasts with no spine
That throaty tenderness when she spoke
sprinkled crystal seeds of frustration in me
She says he loathed him, denied she loved him
but her obsidian eyes betrayed her
There she was, a bud he plucked from the nuns’ garden
He grafted then he pruned her,
spreading her pollen, wafting her scent
yet folding her petals to himself
Caterpillars feeding upon her leaves,
she lets them devour her,
yet once they are wrapped in their cocoons to sleep,
she stabs them with her thorns.
Tears then slid down from her midnight lace eyes
and it was all I could do to catch them
She said she was weary of curtailing butterflies,
of tearing their wings before they can even fly
I had to ask, how many… how many winged gems?
She lifted her sleeves, and showed me her scars
One ugly mark for each innocent child plunged deep,
my heart getting slashed at least three hundred a beat.
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A certain stillness came about
as I strode into her door,
like fear itself refused to move,
letting breath touch her mysterious beauty for the last time....
Her obsidian eyes had betrayed her.
Sharp and gleaming,
with a silver sheen
I looked at the knife beside her.
Maroon-mapped sheets, a stunted womb.
Strains of Bon Iver’s “Flume”
flit past the sighing air like a butterfly,
and I knew…
08112014
Puppeteers
In cavalcades of bulletproof cocoons
all aspects of our lives they can control
they own all that you have except your soul
the sharply suited pipers call the tunes.
Exchanging every privilege and boon,
in freedom's name to dominate, their goal,
unleash fierce ordinance to take it's toll
fruits of their machinations now lie strewn.
Far off, survivors of their bombs and guns
crouch , huddled in a maze of shattered walls,
tarpaulin shades family from the sun,
parents can't quiet hungry baby's call.
A world away, when all is said and done
the price of one gold watch could feed them all.
27th October 2015
Basic Italian ( I think)-
octave, abba abba
sestet- cdcdcd
As I lie still and wait my soul to rest
Unwelcome darkness pulling down my eyelids
In double spaces, horizontal in my chest
A beating heart is melting sorrow's acids
Surrounded by cocoons with handsome faces
As shadows on the walls paint tentacles of squids.
You tear the curtains quietly from spaces
I feel I've lost you when we have never met
The dance, the passion, lips and those caresses -
That Hurricane, that Heat, that Rain I won't forget..
A silent movie and some shutters locked
Unwanted shelter - I'll always regret...
*
As I must die a while and go to unknown places
Farewell Immortal Love, I bow to you with graces...
www.scripca.com
Oh, March
you pompous windbag
howling in the hollows
of Winters fade.
Scattering Fall’s gold
across warmed mud,
billowing tree bound
plastic bag kites,
hoisting the weightless hawk.
Oh March
you city street sweeper
funneling debris
down tunneled alleys,
tearing at the edges
of flailing flags,
hastening the pace
of lethargy’s malaise.
Oh March
you docile lamb
caressing soft peeking buds,
nurturing the squawk
of nestlings,
nudging idle cocoons
to wakefulness,
warming ophidian
cold blood.
Oh March
you are the hint
of warming’s kiss
titillating Spring’s yawn.
John G. Lawless
©3/1/2018
Old Man Winter grumbled and frowned,
Said, "Spring's taking way too long to come 'round!"
But a robin, so bold, chirped up from a tree,
"Relax, grumpy Gus, change is the key!”
Flowers peeked out, with a shy little smile,
Said, "Winter, don't fret, we'll be here a while!"
The grumpy old man, with a huff and a puff,
Melted away in a sunshiny fluff.
Caterpillars wiggled, "We're tired of this crawl,
Time to transform, and answer the call!"
They spun silken cocoons, hung high in the breeze,
And emerged as butterflies, flitting with ease.
Rivers they rushed, with a gurgling glee,
Carving new paths, to the welcoming sea.
The mountains stood tall, with a wisdom untold,
Whispered, "Change is the story, both young and old.”
The sun dipped low, with a fiery goodbye,
But promised to rise, with a brand new sky.
The stars winked and twinkled, then faded from sight,
Knowing the dawn brings a beautiful light.
Change, it isn't scary, it's nature's delight,
A constant refreshing, both day and night.
So shed what you must let go of the past,
Embrace the new season, that's here to outlast!
Spring woke the world out of its dismal sleep,
Musical sounds of life rejoiced, no longer compelled to weep,
Cocoons cracked fervently,
While light permitted the earth to see,
The splendor of such a sweet creation,
Arising with vigor and anticipation,
Marvelous pigments danced in the warm wind,
Deep in the meadows is where their lives did begin,
Like little flags in midair waving in victory,
It was time for perfection to finally be free,
Butterfly kisses consumed the atmosphere,
Gracefully loving all that came near,
patches of wings swirling in vibrant trails,
lavender violets just casually sailed,
Souring so brightly without a care,
Delicate and delightful some extremely rare,
While landing for a moment in a garden of flowers,
They drank of sweet nectar, renewing all power,
Rejuvenated, now ready to flee,
Onward they swayed towards their destiny.
By: Sabina Nicole
written: 4-8-12
butterflies form a kaleidoscope of myths
boon or bad luck, depends on your own pick
their metamorphosis from crawlers to flyers
may be magical; each stage giving us a trick.
caterpillars seem to be crooked creatures,
busy measuring branches with their hairy legs
seemingly plotting, trying to cheat poachers
while eating and nibbling at the leaf pegs.
cocoons portray a ‘potential’ to transform
despite being introverts and kept in hiding
they also symbolize strength and protection
and butterflies glorify earth’s fertility tiding.
arousing jealousy of the goddess Venus
Psyche, a beauty, a butterfly, a fairy soul
romanced the god Eros in a valley of flowers
and underwent pain before achieving her goal.
a night butterfly attracted by the flame
has to get burnt in it to become immortal
reflecting on the trials that must be endured
before knowing the joys of crossing the portal.
a butterfly seen as an emblem of soul
is closely related to the Morning Star
whose existence in the day symbolizes
life of soul even after death without a scar.
hordes of southward migrating butterflies
signal that cold weather is fast approaching
a butterfly is also seen to be a messenger of rain
helps nature’s beauty in spreading and broaching.
Date:18.5.2016