a poacher angling with fettered lure,

April 2, 2008 at 6:31 pm | Posted in prosepoemthingy, writing | 10 Comments
Tags: , , ,

the butterfly, of course, in repose her wings held discretely together and aloft
splendid only in vibrant and transitory flight
perhaps balance has become too much of a word and less of a thought
perhaps sanity overrated,

somethings pass silent into the night while others in song are taking flight,

but if it was for me, a little more overt perhaps, each detail exposed beneath a lurid invading sun in some coarse and open field somewhere,



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  1. beautiful, exquisite, no schmooze. The last stanza is the perfect contrast.

  2. “somethings pass silent into the night while others in song are taking flight’ ahhhhh
    Too beautiful to smooze…..or destroy by analyzing….

  3. love the title on these
    –they say so much
    beautiful words for this Prosepoemthingy

  4. “lurid invading sun” LOVE it.

  5. okay, okay – no schmoozing… but can i lick the monitor screen?

  6. Oddly shakespearian, yet contemporary – I’m thinking that if ever a producton of “Midsummer Night’s Dream” needs fresh dreams to feed on, something like this would fit in a treat.

    balance is not only a tricky word for butterflies…

  7. I love reading your work out loud. and the way you startle the eye by bending grammar. There’s a subtle sexual thingi going on too (or I’m just a perv) in the contrast between ‘wings held discretely together’ and ‘lurid invading sun in some coarse and open field’ :-0

  8. Thankyou, very gracious and schmoozeless comments, thanks,

  9. *smiles*

  10. Butterflies being decreet..I can get behind that image.

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