Tenderly 4: Little Larva

When the larva hatches please let it live.
It is my Love to you, squishy and sensitive.
Just because it’s gross, with not much to give,
Doesn’t mean I can’t make the most of it.
It is frail and pale, so nurture and protect it;
It might not live long if you leave it undetected.
The larva’s last day approaches, the chrysalis,
A time when Love’s tender touch diminishes
Sensations of dullness render us vulnerable.
Love’s metamorphosis, a trial most crucial,
Can create something quite so beautiful.
I can only guarantee with each passing day
That my Love will survive, it is here to stay,
But as I suspected, you are as kind as can be.
You sheltered the lonely little larva in your tree
Safely above the threat that any Love would fear.
The thread my Love could bear for you my dear,
A silken tapestry for you and me to cherish,
Even if this lucky little larva were to perish.

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Tenderly 3: {lo(meyou)ve}

my love told me,

    “you’re delicate as a daisy”

i’ll say so,

(me?)

i’m as pretty as can be!
i know so in my heart,
that with any amount of luck
there’ll be no need for me to

pluck

m y p e t a l s a p a r t
without your sunshine
i

might

wilt

away

so shine your rays; i’ll grow back, okay?

no thorns,for you.
oh honey,for you,i’ve fallen.
my love (for you)
tastes sweet as pollen
kisses soft as heather
weathers any weather
touchestendertogether

my love, truly i endeavor
to be your flower forever… and ever…

Anaesthetic 11: Butterflies

Oh the butterflies, they’ve never left.
That fleeting feeling of their flight
Felt in my every fluttery breath.
You do still feel it, right?
With our thoughts alight,
Wondering if it was worth it to write
All those things I said to you that night.
Tell me, can you hear my heart’s plight?

My heart is still rapidly beating,
To the rhythm of their wing flaps.
When I was dreaming of our meeting,
I wanted your heart, too, to race laps.
If I were able to say what was on my mind,
I would make you the most flattered person on earth.
Not a better love you could find than mine,
No other love could even begin to compare their worth.

But how does our love compare to a butterfly?
Whose wings are as delicate and fragile since it began,
That which is just as doomed to die,
As long as the emperor’s average lifespan,
Or perhaps a monarch’s, but how could anyone plan
To cut short something so beautiful, so why try?

I try because I thought you would be worth the chance,
Because nothing was ever accomplished without trying,
But for the short time our love, along the petals, danced,
And I didn’t want to stay a pupa without the joy of flying.

Anaesthetic 2: Nocturne

The days I can’t find. I’ve looked;
I cannot see beyond the pillow.
I’ve tried and tried, but in my dreams
Are my dreams; My aspirations are of sleep.
During the day fall is my night rise,
Wakefulness is my fight, my solemn right,
and my struggle, what trouble.
The musings of malcontent
Infesting my consciousness
Like the nightcrawlers writhe.
Beneath my feet, the centipedes,
And all other things that impede
hide under the folds, nooks and crannies
of the darkest parts of my being.
Above me, the moths breed
In my fleeting thoughts of recluse.
Within my eyelids, I find refuge
 And my only respite is when
The day stays away and my night stays night.

Promise 6: Edge

Encompassed from zenith to horizon,
From Edge to Edge of my periphery,
The splendid memory of you and me
Like the Edge of a cliff facing an ocean.

Your voice, soothing and endearing,
Swishing, lightly whistling, and hush.
Like a gentle nudge, the wind to push
A warm breeze that tickles my hearing.

So picturesque, as if taken from my past.
I swear I’ve seen light before it turns dark .
A reminder of how much I want to disembark
Beyond a view I never thought would last.

A misstep here means an end to a memory kept.
Waves crash, spurn stone in the perilous shallows.
I watch safely from a distance the danger below,
But here I am, at the Edge, anticipating my steps.

Since I’m not certain, I maintain my foothold.
Should my memory and reality stay distinct?
and in my good sense, perhaps my instincts
wish to carefully tread along that threshold.

I wish to take the next step, but everything I fear,
In some delusion or misunderstanding, I fathom,
That if my demise awaits me there at the bottom
I’ll stoically plummet to my death and disappear.

But since I’m not sure, and completely uncertain
I don’t wish to fall over the cliff side and dive off
If the sea wasn’t willing to break my fall that day.
That cliff would stay there as we last left it, then
And etched into my memory as the ocean sloughs;
Erosion weathers rock, sediment, and sand away.
But I will remain unchanged for when you pledge
That you will wait for me when I fall over the Edge.

Promise 1: Shallow Depths

Tell me, that my feelings are shallow
And I wouldn’t deny you that fact,
For my emotions run skin deep,
But not for the fact that at my core
Lies anything superficial, but because
I lack the common decency to deceive everyone
Into believing that things are as peaceful as they seem.

Read it on my expression that refuses to forget:
On my brow and its various contortions and twists,
My lips curved downward: (pursed in shallow dips)
And my eyelids wavering with the sway of regret.

Placidness – is merely the semblance of my fabricated reality
When I invite you into my world, take a look into my eyes, and
Be not afraid of its depths or you and I will drown in its torrent,
Because my shallowness is as deep as my bare flesh, you see.
And the truth is that a single tear dropping in the calm
Is enough to send ripples that bounce, echo, and recall.
Whose amplitude gives way to greater magnitude –
And nature’s violent tidal forces take over.
“I can only hope to be the one to remain.”

Misc 4: Seasonal Neighbors

Having such a broad range of weather within these four seasons
is like never knowing which eccentric neighbor will come…
knocking at the door-

She gently raps against the door, and upon opening…
In an instant, I’m blinded by her exuberant radiance.
But with her painfully bright exterior is a cold chill
It strips all my heat away, as if she was stealing
all of the warmth from the comfort of my residence.
She is cold and critical, yet, she visits often still.

Her friend is equally bright, but when she arrives alone,
the meeting is far more cordial. Her gentle smile,
It brings a vibrant luscious glow to the greenery.
Her garden comes alive. “My! how the flowers have grown”
She is patient, and cares for nature all the while
Such nurturing tenderness. Considerate, like a mother.

A soft rhythmic tapping at my door sometimes occurs.
It’s times like these that I don’t even answer at all.
If I am prepared, then the visit can be pleasant and enjoyable.
but when she appears when I least expect.
and it quickly becomes a gloomy and miserable ordeal.
But other times it’s abrasive, it’s a horrible racket.

It is even possible to experience these characters all in one day.
One… after the other…
But they are my neighbors, unpredictable as they may be.
It can be, at times, taxing, but at others, relaxing.
But I’m to stay all the same.



Updates are slowing down as of late since I’m doing some larger projects as well as dealing with a whole bunch of other things. This poem is just a small little nod to the weather in New York where you can easily get Spring and Winter all in the same day.

I should hopefully be finished with the short story sometime before the end of March, but I want to make sure it’s totally ready.

~Mari