Cocoon Poems

We are all tightly wrapped. It began at birth. We are born with tendency, but the wrapping begins at birth. Like an Egyptian mummy the world begins to wrap. As the years go by the cocoon thickens. Depending on where

She waited it out as time passed by, looking at the world from the corner of her eye. They came and went like a passing tide, as she stood there silently by the side. Another rippled by her feet as

Jealousy has grown like fruitless trees It has spread like width of seven seas It can’t be justified with very many pleas Life is condensed cocoon of humming bees Humans are no more, but hollowness remains Losses have crossed the

There is a voice in me, I listen to barely. Invisible as phantom shadows, It haunts me, taunts me. I sip some poison Inebriated; It flaunts me. It knocks me off, Scissors me in two, ‘Good or evil, whose baby

Where is the breath That I crave so much Hiding and playing games Just beyond my reach Fingers too stiff to touch To breathe To live To need what is aloof and Teasing me to beseech The air in the

Gleaming and shining with a mesmerizing light; peeping through my window at night, Oh playful, delightful and lucid moon, I cannot play with you, hide away soon! Disappear amidst the clouds carefree moon; Put off your glaring shine now soon,

To my cocoon I wish to return To the safety of my nest. To the womb that nurtured me Where I had long been in blissful unawareness With eyes shut tight Fists clenched too Yet to feel , see and

He slept and dreamt of her again Her sweet encouraging voice But whose was it, so familiar? Her words always gave him hope A reason to live as if he was destined to do something great. Soon his life became

On a bright summer afternoon, Sometime around July I saw something like a cocoon, About to be a butterfly At the break of the night, On the 16th day It took its first flight, Towards the skies far away With

Mother, they said I would find you if I looked deep in my heart – an image of love I shall see there that glows in its ramparts. So I looked behind all the walls upon which the drums did

I am a beautiful man though once I was an ugly boy worms split at the advance of my sneakers they knew what was coming I never shared chocolate turned sour to spite me this is no caterpillar and cocoon

I am convinced that the “Maker of me” has set me on a charted course For the most part, I have always been okay with the ‘Who” of me But honestly, it was God and my development into maturity that

Come out of the cocoons, the light is waiting for you, Climb up the well, Your species is waiting for you, But once you are out of the cocoon, Once you are out of the well, Do not teach me

I dream to kiss your smile and hold your sight, Neglect the night in favor of your touch, Forsake the world, to make this feeling right, And wonder between sighs why love is such; Like one held in cocoon of

On Christmas, Hegel smiles; No year stands up unless a year dies. No butterfly flies up, unless a cocoon is torn out. Crucifixion, dear gentlemen, is the ultimate dialect in the forest of a boring time. Crucifixion, dear ladies, is

Like a moth inside the cocoon, Waiting to kiss the bright sun, Growing its wings in silence, Slowly losing its innocence. The girl next to me seems pretty, My talks to her sweet and witty, I learned a new word

It was a summer night. A windswept moonbeam plummeted. Sexualizing an indigo flesh. A butcher was seducing a spider, in company of a holy book. Sunbathing in mass grave of skulls. The eyes peeking out of the caps. You want

She was too smart to be herself Too feeble to live for her own She kept her dreams locked in her closet They kept sulking and dying Dejected, in their own cocoon. In every ruin, she found her castle Each

I am just a thread. I came out of the fibers of a tree older than letters, or – maybe – out of a cotton plant thrown by chance winds into a field where stones, flowers, thorns and wheat multiply,

Awaken like the swelling sun, My exotic lust takes a slow run Awaken like the genesis of day, My sweet love sings this midday A new sound is heard like the call of a bird, My will sobs at the

I love the misty mornings, Lord The days when I can’t see Beyond the garden’s leafy edge And things that bother me I love a world so small and snug A gentle cocoon shroud Where all I touch is soft

Don’t tell on me, but yes, I can’t breathe no more, This smile concealing my frightened soul, I can’t take no more, Don’t tell on me; have lost myself in all these, I’m just a walking robot, no one sees

Divinity isn’t bestowed no one interviews you for that job insanity is a big part of the benefits package once you’ve actually experienced Truth you cease if an animal became human – evolution in action – what does a human

She is the first and last woman; Her hair is one thousand color waterfalls, nature briefed in her two almond eyes, her eyebrows two gardens riding on astonishment whispers, her cheeks two apples rolling down from Paradise always fleeing away

From my lashes fall a salty solution but never the solution to the trigger of my violent pollution. Feeding the well within me with ammunition of self-pity. My thoughts seeking through garbage dumps of my mishaps, picking up and hoarding

(1) Here I am bathing, this winter, like an antelope under rain showers. God’s voice is still walking on clay laid out from the beginning of time up to the end of earth. The first woman’s eyelashes are scattering from

I took a deep breath And reached into the bag of my heart. Before I exhaled. I took a step in thought. This gift I have for you, it’s not like I have a receipt for it. Hoping that you’ll

There are no in betweens when it comes to me. BECAUSE… I’m the difference between love and Hate. But when you fall in love with me it will be to late I’m the girl you can Love where you will

I remember the day that they stopped the clock, The day they told me your time had been bought, “We’ll make him comfortable”…those dreaded words, If there’s a “comfortable” way to die it’s absurd! I’d armed myself with so many

Walk ever faintly with me, my love Barefoot upon the salted apron shore Let us sip the fading western light Savor the bodied flavor of recent wounds Bow completely to descending night Heal imperfectly beneath comforting moons ..until daylight reveals

I was trying to steer clear of the type I adore Refrain from where I’ve went wrong before Lad about town with that criminal behaviour In the long run he will not work in my favour But I cant help

Being poor is never the real purpose of the poor There’s no reason for the poor to remain on the floor We must help them arise, and reach for something more Although it will not happen in just a day;

Cohabiting: my poems make me sad. You reflect the times my body leaves the wound marks on sand. Again I had gone to my tattered home to sleep under the moon. There was only a small window. I would look

Do you ever feel a little choked up? Were you dreaming good and suddenly woke up? Like all was going smooth but you suddenly broke up- into tears – but a sly smile just soaked up- all of them,and you

This came to me while sitting in my room reading poems of doom and gloom. Other poems of despair and dread, even poems were people wished they were dead. What, did you miss taking our meds? ‘Cause you can’t do

My Principal is forever ready to explore New things from students who implore And set a new goal for them to outscore In their own life. He is ready to restore Intellect and discipline in school therefore Stands out and

Look how the sky changes rapidly though as in fazes stopping still the clouds do hoover like above the trees to look we turn our faces dim though the reality seems recollecting our midnight dreams Dark and rampant with the

I do not see dreams nowadays. I am just worried how would I know about you nowadays. That was the only way we connected. Isn’t it strange. You used to say I am the wrong person. The wrong person to

The most important thing to always remember, At no point should you put yourself in danger, For a moment step back, take time to assess, However, act promptly, you were taught by the best. You need to determine if they

You never touch the ground neither go round and round hung up for a very different use your job now to make them amuse after retirement a change of fate now into swinging than erstwhile rotate sure I’m for this