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Butterfly Logic

BUTTERFLY LOGIC

Butterfly logic is the intelligence of beauty. These poems represent my attempts at butterfly logic.

BUTTERFLY

the butterfly
cannot fly back
to the cocoon
he grabs thorns
from the rose
to arm himself

BUTTERFLY ANGEL

butterfly angel
soars with infinity
no rest stops
gliding from
blossom to blossom
bringing new flowers
to her fold to bloom
butterfly angel
knows
shifts into winged ecstasy
morphs into woman
touching hearts without compromise
butterfly angel
flies into infinity

MAGIC BUTTERFLY

It is the essence
of magic
for a butterfly
to be earthly
angel singing
watch her
spread wings
wide
as colors
magnificent
adorn
shadows
embrace
rainbows
and me.

UNREPENTANT BUTTERFLY

I listen to music
I think of you
aesthetic
unrepentant
butterfly.

there is beauty
in those
notes.

APPROACHING A FLOWER

One cannot approach a flower
with negligence
or short term vision
seeing only the petals
and not stamen or stem
a butterfly sings
even flowers must
have wings.

YOU CANNOT DRINK THEM

breasts sculpted on
an uneven plane
of lust
accentuated by eyes
full of vice and amour
a kitten's lips and tongue
that you wish would
pay homage to you
even though you know
kittens only trust themselves
and even that is at their
own risk
the heat pounds through
her mental surf
opening the doors
to the prism of her desires
so many colors to her passion
and tastes gone wild
that excites every sexual prophecy
but this kitten is a woman
a butterfly who only purrs
when she flies and her
back is against the wall
and her mouth like silence
matches her wit and says
nothing at all
because the moment you
have her corralled
and you think you have won
you have lost poorly
and poor losers in love
are worse than
poor losers in life
because they beat their foes
with brutality and prayer
even though they have lost
their love
and if you have not caged
this butterfly and desire
still runs your veins in
alcoholic inebriation
her persona growing
more clearly instead
of a slowly fading photograph
an impressionist painting emerges
turning surreal in the nightfall
the fuchsia of your desire
is hers to command even
as you deftly constrain her
with a web of fine silk ropes
and once again in your haste
to hold her fast you
tie slip knots instead
of the more harnessing bowie knots
and as she slips from your grasp
you remember that even
though butterflies are liquid
you cannot drink them

CONVERSATIONS WITH GOD

If god is nature
Or encompasses nature
Or created nature
Then one must use nature
To converse with god
Dancing with butterflies
And listening to seashells
And burning bushes

114 REASONS WHY NOT

You are married to
a doctor a fine
micro surgeon
of some repute.

I am but a
butterfly salesman
nestling beauty
from winged
creatures.

TATTOOS OF DESIRE

Your neck
the birthplace
of desire.

A tattooist
looks upon
this canvas
transfers doves
& eccentricity
to its lush bend.

He paints
passion’s evening
and a butterfly
allowing
the nightingale
to arch at the nape.

He illustrates
– his eyes closed

kisses lingering…

A BUTTERFLY UNVEILS NEW COLORS

Like a butterfly
unveiling new wings
you show me your colors
wings melded of quiet
strength and dignity
with colors taken
from goddess dreams
as she sleeps.

CUPPING THE BUTTERFLY

he cups the butterfly
with crumbling fingers
there is no place to hold
only cradle in fingers
made of tears
he loves her
and kisses softness
and slowly mends
with these brittle fingers
mends the holes and tatters
one at a time

KITE FLIER

You are the butterfly
who escaped reason
whirling your colors
in empathy
as your tongue
disdains excuses.

– the room grows darker
with her departure

I wander relentless
pursuing your silent
wing falls
drinking deeply
at your draught.

– he follows
a desert dream

While you dance
to the music
of the wind
I fly kites
in hopes
of distracting you.

I could be blind
and know you
are beautiful.

IT’S ABOUT BUTTERFLIES

We were questioned
as to whether or not
we were sheltering
butterflies.

Harboring these artistic
creatures in our homes
as if anything or
anyone could capture
living gossamer.

Long has it been known
that the universe of
butterflies was
powerful and pervasive
and extended beyond
simple physical life.

People only saw the beginning stages
from caterpillar to cocoon to butterfly
without realizing that after
butterfly there was continuation
of life immortal.

Larva is Latin for ghost
From ghost to ghost.

AFTER BUTTERFLY

Have you ever wondered
even for the briefest
of moments what happens
after butterfly?

© 1998 - 2006 lgjaffe

poem by Larry Jaffe
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