LEGEND OF THE BUTTERFLY
Once as a child many years ago on a balmy summer’s eve
I sat in the yard at my mother’s side and a butterfly lit
on my sleeve
“It’s a sign of good luck,” my mother said
As the butterfly stayed on my arm
“He’s a symbol of all the beauty in life –
Make sure that you do him no harm”.
First, butterflies are eggs, and after they hatch
They see that their life’s just beginning.
They’re not content with their lot in life.
So they go out on a limb and start spinning.
They stay but awhile in a magic cocoon
Then emerge like flowers in Spring
And they share their story of victory and success
Through each of the colors in their wings.
The Gold in his wings is for the Golden Rule
To follow that is a must;
The blue — that means true blue.
Be someone that others can trust.
The green on the tip of his wings is saying:
“Stay green and you’ll always grow;”
And the silver is the lining in the clouds of doubt,
That you must look for as through life you go.
Butterflies bend with the wind, it’s true,
Still they get where they want to go.
They arrive by persistence – through their own insistence.
A lesson more people should know.
Sought and valued by the whole human race
for their beauty, tenacity and charm,
Here’s my wish to you ‘ere this verse is through:
May the butterfly light on your arm.
And if he ever chances to stay at your sleeve,
Remember my friend, don’t you fight him
But learn what you can from the butterfly clan
And you too may become a rare item.
– by Jewel Maxon
Poetry
Animation by Elliot Smith
The Aliens
by Charles Bukowski
For All
“Ah to be alive
on a mid-September morn
fording a stream
barefoot, pants rolled up,
holding boots, pack on,
sunshine, ice in the shallows,
northern rockies.
Rustle and shimmer of icy creek waters
stones turn underfoot, small and hard as toes
cold nose dripping
singing inside
creek music, heart music,
smell of sun on gravel.
I pledge allegiance
I pledge allegiance to the soil
of Turtle Island,
and to the beings who thereon dwell
one ecosystem
in diversity
under the sun
With joyful interpenetration for all.”
– Gary Snyder
Animation by Monika Umba
Music – Guild Settlement
THE BLUEBIRD
by Charles Bukowski
“there’s a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I’m too tough for him,
I say, stay in there, I’m not going
to let anybody see
you.
there’s a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I pur whiskey on him and inhale
cigarette smoke
and the whores and the bartenders
and the grocery clerks
never know that
he’s
in there.
there’s a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I’m too tough for him,
I say,
stay down, do you want to mess
me up?
you want to screw up the
works?
you want to blow my book sales in
Europe?
there’s a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I’m too clever, I only let him out
at night sometimes
when everybody’s asleep.
I say, I know that you’re there,
so don’t be
sad.
then I put him back,
but he’s singing a little
in there, I haven’t quite let him
die
and we sleep together like
that
with our
secret pact
and it’s nice enough to
make a man
weep, but I don’t
weep, do
you?”
“The soul would have no rainbow
Had the eyes no tears.”
-John Vance Cheney
We Live On
From Elevate by J J Bola
“This is to God, To all the new borns that just came from her And to those who have just returned, To those whose cries were never heard, And were absorbed only by the night, This is to love, over loneliness, We live on, To the silent nights where only beating hearts are heard, And to those who could never quite find the words to take them there, This is to those who have turned their backs and walked away, And to those who would never let you walk alone, Our paths are different but the same, We live on, To those who stay strong, but only to mask the pain, To those who are brave enough to show the tears on their face, This is to the meek, To the quiet, Your voice will one day come alive, This is to life, To the days that have passed us by, And the nights that have drawn us closer together We live on”
THE RAINBOW
“My heart leaps up when I behold
A rainbow in the sky:
So was it when my life began;
So is it now I am a man;
So be it when I shall grow old,
Or let me die!
The child is father of the man;
And I could wish my days to be
Bound each to each by natural piety.”
– William Wordsworth
A montage of archive clips of Seamus Heaney “Digging”. From BBC NI’s “Seamus Heaney: A life in Pictures”.
Music – “Angels” by Sarah McLachlan
– Animation by Julian Grey
“Forgetfulness” by Billy Collins
“The name of the author is the first to go followed obediently by the title, the plot, the heartbreaking conclusion, the entire novel which suddenly becomes one you have never read, never even heard of, as if, one by one, the memories you used to harbor decided to retire to the southern hemisphere of the brain, to a little fishing village where there are no phones. Long ago you kissed the names of the nine Muses goodbye and watched the quadratic equation pack its bag, and even now as you memorize the order of the planets, something else is slipping away, a state flower perhaps, the address of an uncle, the capital of Paraguay. Whatever it is you are struggling to remember, it is not poised on the tip of your tongue, not even lurking in some obscure corner of your spleen. It has floated away down a dark mythological river whose name begins with an L as far as you can recall, well on your own way to oblivion where you will join those who have even forgotten how to swim and how to ride a bicycle. No wonder you rise in the middle of the night to look up the date of a famous battle in a book on war. No wonder the moon in the window seems to have drifted out of a love poem that you used to know by heart.”
For L
“I love you
You can never have too many
I heard once what is
is what is
and what should be
is a dirty lie
But if what was wasn’t
then the truth is what isn’t.
Yet it is what it is
uncatchable shadows
disappearing in the mist
A land once sunny
now a valley full of dreary
I shall wait in this cloudy piss
and should the sun return
I shall capture the shadows
and lock them safely
between my teeth
I love you
You can never have too many
I heard once what is
is what is
and what should be
is a dirty lie.”
R ~
Maverick Mist 