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Literature Text
I.
You had a butterfly’s wings…
And each ink stained pattern wound itself around you
Bleeding into blacks and yellows, till the winds were forced
To lift you up and sweep you away into springtide.
II.
Each of your words stitched themselves
Into the lining of your emerald chrysalis,
Whispering false nothings so you could never
Return, never take it all back.
III.
Heaven never told you that winter fell
Under an open sky that you had written your heart into
Where each drop of white ink tattered the gossamer
Threads where you had left your name.
IV.
And even now as the feathers fall around you
Laughing at the plight of powdered silken dreams
And the dance of distant, sun-blind shadows,
You found your solace in the lonely morning.
And called it peace.
You had a butterfly’s wings…
And each ink stained pattern wound itself around you
Bleeding into blacks and yellows, till the winds were forced
To lift you up and sweep you away into springtide.
II.
Each of your words stitched themselves
Into the lining of your emerald chrysalis,
Whispering false nothings so you could never
Return, never take it all back.
III.
Heaven never told you that winter fell
Under an open sky that you had written your heart into
Where each drop of white ink tattered the gossamer
Threads where you had left your name.
IV.
And even now as the feathers fall around you
Laughing at the plight of powdered silken dreams
And the dance of distant, sun-blind shadows,
You found your solace in the lonely morning.
And called it peace.
This has been sitting in pieces in my computer for about four months now. Every now and then i would come back to it and add a word here or there, because i really liked the first two parts but the rest continued to elude me for unknown reasons.
I saw phrase, i think it was "open sky" and i immediately thought of this poor poem sitting in pieces lost in Word.
Im pretty pleased with the outcome... ^^
I saw phrase, i think it was "open sky" and i immediately thought of this poor poem sitting in pieces lost in Word.
Im pretty pleased with the outcome... ^^
© 2009 - 2024 Silvercharmed
Comments43
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Overall
Vision
Originality Technique ImpactFirst, I'd like to say I agree with you, the first two stanzas do work very well.
First Stanza:
Butterflies and wind...are like the butterfly reflect in reverse. A sneeze in China makes butterflies in America dizzy or something.
All joking aside, the butterfly metaphor, while an old one, is a classic, and works well here. In my mental imagery, I do have a hard time reconciling 'wound itself around you' and 'winds...lift you up'. To me, it seems counter-intuitive, I found myself re-reading that stanza, wondering where the part about spreading the wings was. I could just be sleepy and confused though.
Second Stanza:
Probably my favorite stanza. Visualizing meanings stitched into the chrysalis is made all the more striking by the unique imagery of an emerald chrysalis, all the chrysalises I've seen have been plain, boring white, and I like the way you used it. 'Whispering false nothings' is an intriguingly ambiguous phrase, though there is an element of regret, it leaves open whether the false nothings were ill considered compliments, or hurtful lies.
Third Stanza:
Heaven never tells anyone very much, it seems...one could imagine a frustratingly reticent deity, or the uncertainty about the afterlife that all share. The snow, the open sky, and the name written in gossamer threads, like spider's threads, are all reminiscent of Charlotte's Web. Whether or not it was actually inspired by that, I could not say.
Fourth Stanza:
This last stanza seems slightly out of context, where the first three revolved around butterfly, and possibly spider, metaphors, feathers suddenly appear in the last stanza. Whose feathers? While I very much enjoy the structure of the last stanza, and the imagery, it seems at odds with the body of the work. Other then that, it works very well, and powdered silken dreams could be continuing the butterfly metaphor, either the fine powder that coats their wings, or crumbled silk, since silk comes from certain caterpillars. Since silk is a fibrous substance, that it has turned to powder is evocative of decay, or some sort of violent destruction. 'Sun-blind shadows' is a pretty phrase, though I myself fail to grasp the imagery. Perhaps the shadows are ignorant of the sun and consequently lacking all proportion or orientation? Regardless, one does find solace in the lonely morning...and peace.