Friday, December 30, 2011

Butterfly



Butterfly


In out out in without disruption
warding the shell's inevitable corruption

in billowing sighs where the Master sits
the apprentice is peeking with eyes like slits

blind to a logic of infinite drops
in out out in till the raindance stops

each moment alone in a trance of calm
a butterfly netted in the silent palm

in now where his fingers play
out now already flying away




December 2011




Some nursery rhyme styled couplets for 
Gay Cannon's FormForAll prompt at dVerse Poet's Pub 









22 comments:

  1. This is lulling, hypnotic. I love the third couplet.

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  2. Thanks MZ--still rewriting it--but it's nothing compared to what I've read elsewhere from this prompt, I'm afraid.

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  3. oh I like this! the rhythm and meter is infectious, and I felt it growing in pace as I read on - spiralling into many descriptions and thoughts - a great classic feel to this write! nicely done!

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  4. That "in out out in" rhythm of the butterfly's wings are also of the lungs, and of a fanning whelk, and of a poet's capacity for wonder. You ever read Hawthorne's "Artist of the Beautiful?" Some if the watchworks here remind me of it. We do it 'til it -- 'til we -- stop .... A sublime arrest. - Brendan

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  5. this has a beautiful dance within it...i like butterflies too smiles...so i was at peace...a little witchy zen eh? smiles.

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  6. This reminds me of alchemy, the quest for the secret of life.

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  7. What draws me to your work is the magic you invest in every part of it. Your rhythms, your word choice, the words you leave unsaid, those dramatic caesuras, the space for the reader to invent meaning as he/she reads. That is not just good writing, my dear Joy, that is genius. You are without question one of the very best poets I've ever read.

    I am grateful to be a reader of your work and I've not been able to keep up lately and each time I miss a poem of yours, I feel the loss. Thank you for this beautiful one. Gay

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  8. Love the rhythm.......and, especially, "the apprentice is peeking with eyes like slits". Bravo.

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  9. Fly, butterfly, fly! Menthings are big, but they're slow. He can't catchoo unless you want him to!

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  10. I like the sing-song cadence in this--just like a nursery rhyme. The butterfly is the master of transformation.

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  11. Joy,
    'Floats like a butterfly and stings like a bee' Your verse reminds me of Ali's graceful movements which we don't get in the ring anymore. Beautiful verse!

    Hank

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  12. The sing-songy cadence of your poem belies the complexity of your magical words.

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  13. Love the couplet forms Joy ~

    The in / out words reminds me of the pin pricked butterfly in a frame, life slowly ebbing away

    Wishing you cheers and blessings for 2012 ~

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  14. I agree with Gay's comment, and the assessment of your very thoughtful work. In this one I especially like this stanza:

    each moment alone in a trance of calm
    a butterfly netted in the silent palm

    As I can very much picture it. K.

    PS- Another weird thing--I have a novel I've written called Butterfly, though it's a common enough name. Actually it was An I for an Eye, a better title perhaps, but agh--long story. K.

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  15. This cocoons me without corruption and breathes life in a sigh.

    It also fits well with your Hedgewitch O'theWilds pic. :)

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  16. Butterflies have been important emissaries in my life. Now I have a poem to keep that perfectly describes them. Thank you.

    Happy New Year, Joy.

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  17. The image has a certain fascination, but the verse seduces me.

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  18. i've read it a few times now and there seem to be a lot in those lines..just don't sing it to a child who should fall asleep..it will lie awake all night and think about the deeper meaning..smiles

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  19. deep and stunning imagery.

    Happy New Year.
    :)

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  20. Such a beautiful lilt to this piece, hedgewitch.

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  21. i love the relationship of an apprentice to a master.

    one day i walked up on a bunch of photographers taking pictures of the new Catholic Cathedral in LA. there was an old man with them. i asked him if they were his students, and he laughed, said they were all professionals. we talked awhile, and i was sure something was up there, that they were acting like apprentices to a master. finally, i asked who he was. Robert Schulman

    i wrote a couplet!
    last day of the last year

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'Poetry is an echo asking a shadow to dance' ~Carl Sandburg