eMule -> The Poetry Archive -> Forums -> User Submitted Poetry
the butterfly touches the calm water
see the ripples
reflection not disturbance
a touch, one,
the world changes,
melts into
butter-ripples,
flying water;
we're splashed
revived at the
realization!
when the butterfly stops
he hops along the leaves
dreams perhaps of old worm-life
then captured
by a sudden
multitude of
waves,
a halo,
reviving
his soil,
sole soul,
of a dream
once plunged
into ground,
grinding,
tilling till
turmoil
washes away
worms
of earth
briefly
watch the butterfly reach up
to the little drama of his little life
take what lesson you can for yourself
briefly, as if steps in dance,
three, ripple-butterfly-water,
the stew stews more hope than despair!
a fourth and fifth view
the butterfly-water-ripple
lift our eyes together
we make the scene
watchers in the watched
and in the pupils of our eyes
identicality is reflected wise,
mutually different, we immortalize.
Longevity
the butterfly breathe deeply
watching his creation
the momentary ripple
across the waiting water
hear the catapillar laugh at eternity
by the time he gets to the end of this leaf
he'll have lost his identity
center point of ripple
is a spot, spark of movement:
two skaky wings form, enlarge
left for right, right for left,
the image loose, loses shape
to a neverending infinity.
water transforms in relativity
K.Q.
I find that if I read your poems one after the other, they read also as a poem without reference to my mine. I like this intersecting parallelism we've built.
Peter
he finds the she inside, desperately
s/he embrace the gain, loss, eternally.
end of leaf is birth of death to new reality
the cocoon
I watch the ripples change their size
But never leave the stream
Of warm impermanence and
So the days float through my eyes
But still the days seem the same
And these children that you spit on
As they try to change their worlds
Are immune to your consultations
They're quite aware of what they're going through
Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes
David Bowie
Peter and KQ, I very much enjoy when you both unleash your talents and share with us this impromptu collaboration...I don't think I've ever seen anything like this before; it's like you are lovers (albeit long-distance lovers) who are in total sync with each other, you both seem to intuitively grasp each other's inspiration and run with it…almost always in tune with each other...it's amazing to see and read. Thank you.
It is the mark of an educated mind to be able to entertain a thought without accepting it. (Aristotle)
Ahh gwydion, you stole my thunder. I must then echo her words, it is brilliant and fascinating to read both of your poems, sparking off each other like great comedians do.
Very nice poem peter.
Dije
Faith Whittlesey: Remember, Ginger Rogers did everything Fred Astaire did, but she did it backwards and in high heels.
That was sooo awesome! 
IT LOOKS LIKE SO MUCH FUN!..all you guys here amaze me
i TRY TO STAY OUT OF THE WAY TIL IT LOOKS LIKE THEY'RE WINDING DOWN !
Ripple in still water,
When there is no pebble tossed,
Nor wind to blow.
Reach out your hand if your cup be empty,
If your cup is full may it be again,
Let it be known there is a fountain,
That was not made by the hands of men.
There is a road, no simple highway,
Between the dawn and the dark of night,
And if you go no one may follow,
That path is for your steps alone.
---Grateful Dead, lyrics
GOOD ONE LES, JUST HEARD IT THIS MORNING, WAS CONSIDERING THAT ONE BUT WENT WITH BOWIE ISNTEAD
You should always feel free to join in on these string. It can's help but be fun.
Peter
You are always welcome in.
Peter
Peter, I always felt it would be as Cartman defined sexual harrassment on South Park......if you're having relations with your ladyfriend and someone comes from behind and starts annoying you with a feather
I've been to the rippling waves,
seen through yhe fluttering soul,
came ut with minor gods
laughing at silenced love
the echo by the water
and the flutterer in the tree;
gods gather round
the points of light
in daily mystery.
One, two the circle's new
promises made are orimises broken
take your chances, the door is open.
We return once to the scene:
Ripple in still water,
When there is no pebble tossed,
Nor wind to blow.
**********************************************
note: Psyche, lover of Eros and of Echo in Greek myth was represented by the butterfly.
Les, I love your opening lines, for themselves and for y=how suitable they are for our poem.
so much for the sanity of simile.
I had in mind the Japanese linked verse, link Renga or Tanka.
Pter
led astray
my butterfly memory
ripples away on the water
a lost yout
Peter
***************************************************
feel free to join in at any link you like, right K.Q.?
my mind is rippled by
foam of words
roaming in
depths of seas
carrying weights of
panoramic vision
the heavier, deeper, higher,
the more it extends:
a rippled mind
can never know fear;
vibrations shake that away
thanks peter!
led zeppelin
iron butterfly
ripple thunderbird night train express
choo choo
even the drunk
by the railyard
feels the shadow
of the passing butterfly
Well, Gwydion, you showed me how to try this kind of thing with K.Q. when I first entered this forum.
Apollinaire
Caterpillar
Work leads to wealth and getting.
Let us poor poets also try:
A caterpillar by fretting, fretting,
Becomes the rich butterfly.
Martin Bennett translates from French and Italian, and contributed translations of poems by Primo Levi, Pasolini, Pavese, Quasimodo and Ungaretti to MPT 15 (Contemporary Italian Poets).
Translated by Martin Bennett
page(s) 7
thanks or StephenFryer Modern Poetry inTranslation in Genereal Discussion
paradox spreads wings
turns from face to face
impoverished wealth
creates utmost stealth
cocoon begs color
and space and trace
as it evolves we sing
to tune to shape
the curtains drape
to end of beginning
beginning of end
the cycles of ripples
endlessly extend
without ripples
yet on the further shore
the lights go out once more
the fish are gone
the lake is smooth
no sign of butterfly, no lore
yet on the further shore
a breeze carries memories
of what once tore
stillness of time
touched waters
undisturbed
the two shores
score tie
one of event
the other
of reverie!
the butterfly knows
the magic is
to dream reality.
to dream reality
use reflection
not disturbance
beautify occurance
animate it well
make it move
sound taste
touch see
life's bitterness
in ambiguity
ripple its waist
two sides emerge
one in finess
the other
does regress
in magical know
life's bitterness
in ambiguity
these are fine lines
fine lines
do not divide
dissect meaning
perhaps more
they impart
part of non-
stopable mood
stream of conscious
overflowing
winds of words
blowing throwing
nothingness
into scenes
Post Edited (10-26-04 07:20)
prelude to incarnation
the last scene of the butterfly
he forgot his line
as he left the cocoon
Right before our very eyes
drab cocoons fall open to reveal
the vibrant beauty of new lives born.
Soaring skies high, flash of color in the
fairest of blue hues. Butterfly wings
spread to enfold us in dreams.
Post Edited (10-26-04 10:28)
It is the mark of an educated mind to be able to entertain a thought without accepting it. (Aristotle)
and we ask why
a sudden silent shriek
shrunk inside us
do we not know
how hope just
passed aside us?
part of our dream
part in our dream
part over dream
don't we seem
so petty down here
looking up so high
carried gazes
on wings of
butterfly
Butterfly wings
spread to enfold us in dreams.
--Gwydion
Where do we find our wings?
in laughter? morning sunlight? incomprehensible things?
or folded in such conversant images?
Where do we find our wings?
in discrete giggles of a child
inside us, if we can reach
with fingers of time sinking;
on the wings of a sun flaring
at life's pits, daring anything
in day to be stronger, as bright;
in plump thoughts like figs:
figgy, foggy and ripe;
in wigs falling of earth's baldness,
plight mastered to perfection,
yet reaping less appreciation
more and more rejection.
despite all wings, by nature
do fly, soaring virgin skies
of desired creatability!
sorry for imposing!
Post Edited (12-06-04 08:04)
Part flag here only
soft as curtain...sharp they come
swim... foolish fish
Post Edited (12-07-04 10:04)
It is the mark of an educated mind to be able to entertain a thought without accepting it. (Aristotle)
K.Q.
You never impose. Period.
butterfly thoughts
Fill the bucket empty dark voice,
Take up the lantern's last sharp flicker.
do not flutter by
my butterfly
beware the asphalt ribbon
18 wheeler going to Texas
butterfly tags along
embedded in the grill
john
duck beneath the water's surface see the glinting sun
spread the fanfare on the edge of ripples on their way.
butterfly's revenge
masked aviators orange black white
in the windshield and tale pipe
driver swirs and engine siezes
comes the road's curve, death just sneezes
Remind me not to write anything short like that.
"Loving people is like farting in the wind; You don't actually accomplish anything, but you feel better."
~The Great and Powerful Angelia~
just fun, Keeper
death sneezes
into embryo of
life; amniotic
fluid ripples
waves of
revival
death
dies
Fun scares me.
"Loving people is like farting in the wind; You don't actually accomplish anything, but you feel better."
~The Great and Powerful Angelia~
bump for a beautiful experience!!
I forgot that I even read this one. Fun still scares me by the by!
"Loving people is like farting in the wind; You don't actually accomplish anything, but you feel better."
~The Great and Powerful Angelia~
Fun isn't always. . .
remember?
butterfly from Amman
to San Francisco
what a flight!