Dead Butterfly and Sleeping Giant
Prose poem and haiku68 total reviews
Comment from bookishfabler
Wow, what a wonderful story. It is a shame she never saw the butterfly emerge from her son. I know she would be very proud of you.
hugs Heidi
reply by the author on 26-Mar-2017
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Wow, what a wonderful story. It is a shame she never saw the butterfly emerge from her son. I know she would be very proud of you.
hugs Heidi
Comment Written 26-Mar-2017
reply by the author on 26-Mar-2017
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Yes, Heidi, she would be very proud of me. Before she passed away eleven weeks after my father, I read her my eulogy to him. She ended her days happy that I had resumed writing. Thank you for your review.
Comment from DR DIP
Sis this is a really good write and another insight into your interesting life you have shared with us in prose. So you were always meant to be a poet!..it's in your blood!
thanks for sharing a little insight into your life
dip
reply by the author on 26-Mar-2017
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Sis this is a really good write and another insight into your interesting life you have shared with us in prose. So you were always meant to be a poet!..it's in your blood!
thanks for sharing a little insight into your life
dip
Comment Written 26-Mar-2017
reply by the author on 26-Mar-2017
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Yeah, Dip, I was always meant to be a poet, no matter how hard I fought against it or fled from it. It's in my blood. Thank you for your review.
Comment from ~Dovey
Hi Andre,
There are some things mothers just seem to intuitively know. Your prose poem/haiku combo are a testament to this fact and you've recounted that story well in the telling of your mother's faith in your abilities as a poet. To have someone believe in us to that depth is an empowering event. I'm happy that you've found it in your life and that you wish to share it with all of us.
This is excellent work and was my pleasure to read and review. Your correlations here are my favorite part of the tale.
I reopened and reread Mom's letters: How did you know I would start writing after you died? I did not believe your Cassandra-like prophecy until I felt poetry in my heart, lived it in my body, and scribbled it with fingers bloodied from their thrust into your wound.
Mom, you possessed the faith of a butterfly. You laid your egg, well-knowing that you will never live to see your child emerge from his cocoon and fly.
after laying eggs
butterfly quivers and dies
wind blows confetti
It is beautiful work and an exceptional relationship you shared with your mother.
Kim
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The highest and the lowest rating are not included in calculations.
reply by the author on 26-Mar-2017
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Hi Andre,
There are some things mothers just seem to intuitively know. Your prose poem/haiku combo are a testament to this fact and you've recounted that story well in the telling of your mother's faith in your abilities as a poet. To have someone believe in us to that depth is an empowering event. I'm happy that you've found it in your life and that you wish to share it with all of us.
This is excellent work and was my pleasure to read and review. Your correlations here are my favorite part of the tale.
I reopened and reread Mom's letters: How did you know I would start writing after you died? I did not believe your Cassandra-like prophecy until I felt poetry in my heart, lived it in my body, and scribbled it with fingers bloodied from their thrust into your wound.
Mom, you possessed the faith of a butterfly. You laid your egg, well-knowing that you will never live to see your child emerge from his cocoon and fly.
after laying eggs
butterfly quivers and dies
wind blows confetti
It is beautiful work and an exceptional relationship you shared with your mother.
Kim
This rating does not count towards story rating or author rank.
The highest and the lowest rating are not included in calculations.
Comment Written 26-Mar-2017
reply by the author on 26-Mar-2017
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Oh, thank you, Kim, for your loving review. I am stunned at my mother's intuitive abilities. I have never encountered a person like before and am glad I had her in my life to encourage me and see the long view. Thanks again.
Comment from Asem.inspirations
Wow: Now I am really in love...with your poetry...Oh My God!!!!
I don't think I have ever read anything you have written but as soon as I started reading this poem it snatched my heart, yanked tears that fell out immediately and captured my soul forever. I could hear myself say, "I am forever a fan of this Poet.
I started writing poetry as a young girl but mostly kept it to myself. Although I realized my poetry was beautiful, deep and unique, I did not treat it special and soon lost all of it. As time went on, I'd write bits and pieces of poetry, sometimes even like your mother, scribbling bits and pieces of poems on paper scraps, as I would hear them in mind and heart.
My baby sister, Allison wrote beautiful poetry so each time I saw her she'd read me her poetry. It reminded me just how much I love poetry and needed to start writing again. She even published a book, "Garrulous Waters" by Allison Baker. One of her poems sounds so much like this one. It was called "Daddy I Am Not A Poet!" I told her one day I will publish a book also but at that time I had not written enough poetry. I had written about 6 poems that I was happy with and I had a file for them in my file cabinet but I was holding those 6 poems for years.
Then my oldest son, Tyrene started to write poetry. He always did write poetry, however, in the beginning when he was just a very young boy, he wrote wrap music. Although I was a fan of wrap music I didn't want my genius child spending so much time writing it. By the time he reached 18 years of age he started writing the most beautiful poems I ever heard or read. He was so talented but unfortunately I didn't do such a good job holding on to his poetry and during his really bad nights he would lose duffel bags full of his poetry. That was what inspired my poem "Faded Duffle Bags."
I lost Tyrene on September 03, 2013. He was only 28 years when he died. It killed me that I did not write a poem in memory of him to read at his funeral. My daughter wrote a poem called, "Oh Brother" and she read it at his service. I, on the other hand only read some of his personal poetry -- airing out his most private thoughts to the crowd. This killed me.
As a family we have suffered so much loss but when I lost Tyrene I finally realized my need to started to write poetry again. I so needed to release all of that pain and suffering from deep with in me and I knew it had to come out in my poetry.
However, now that I have published my first book of poetry, I feel that I can no longer write but when I just read your poem I heard myself saying, "I must start writing again." You have inspired me with this poem and I am a fan. I apologize for this very long explanation in my review. I just felt connected to you some how and I could not stop typing. I am actually at work right now but I am having a good cry as it is very quiet here and empty. Thank you for this extraordinary poem.
reply by the author on 26-Mar-2017
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Wow: Now I am really in love...with your poetry...Oh My God!!!!
I don't think I have ever read anything you have written but as soon as I started reading this poem it snatched my heart, yanked tears that fell out immediately and captured my soul forever. I could hear myself say, "I am forever a fan of this Poet.
I started writing poetry as a young girl but mostly kept it to myself. Although I realized my poetry was beautiful, deep and unique, I did not treat it special and soon lost all of it. As time went on, I'd write bits and pieces of poetry, sometimes even like your mother, scribbling bits and pieces of poems on paper scraps, as I would hear them in mind and heart.
My baby sister, Allison wrote beautiful poetry so each time I saw her she'd read me her poetry. It reminded me just how much I love poetry and needed to start writing again. She even published a book, "Garrulous Waters" by Allison Baker. One of her poems sounds so much like this one. It was called "Daddy I Am Not A Poet!" I told her one day I will publish a book also but at that time I had not written enough poetry. I had written about 6 poems that I was happy with and I had a file for them in my file cabinet but I was holding those 6 poems for years.
Then my oldest son, Tyrene started to write poetry. He always did write poetry, however, in the beginning when he was just a very young boy, he wrote wrap music. Although I was a fan of wrap music I didn't want my genius child spending so much time writing it. By the time he reached 18 years of age he started writing the most beautiful poems I ever heard or read. He was so talented but unfortunately I didn't do such a good job holding on to his poetry and during his really bad nights he would lose duffel bags full of his poetry. That was what inspired my poem "Faded Duffle Bags."
I lost Tyrene on September 03, 2013. He was only 28 years when he died. It killed me that I did not write a poem in memory of him to read at his funeral. My daughter wrote a poem called, "Oh Brother" and she read it at his service. I, on the other hand only read some of his personal poetry -- airing out his most private thoughts to the crowd. This killed me.
As a family we have suffered so much loss but when I lost Tyrene I finally realized my need to started to write poetry again. I so needed to release all of that pain and suffering from deep with in me and I knew it had to come out in my poetry.
However, now that I have published my first book of poetry, I feel that I can no longer write but when I just read your poem I heard myself saying, "I must start writing again." You have inspired me with this poem and I am a fan. I apologize for this very long explanation in my review. I just felt connected to you some how and I could not stop typing. I am actually at work right now but I am having a good cry as it is very quiet here and empty. Thank you for this extraordinary poem.
Comment Written 26-Mar-2017
reply by the author on 26-Mar-2017
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Oh, thank you, Tier, for your enthusiastic, six star review. That is quite a compliment that my poem "snatched my heart, yanked tears that fell out immediately and captured my soul forever." I am thrilled that my poem inspired you to start writing again. I look forward to reading it! Thanks.
Comment from Grasshopper2
Andre,
What a wonderful legacy you have. The haibun is exceptional. Your story is beautiful. Your haiku is beautiful. To say your mother would be proud of you does not do justice. Thank you for posting this intimate look at you.
Blessings,
Michael
reply by the author on 26-Mar-2017
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Andre,
What a wonderful legacy you have. The haibun is exceptional. Your story is beautiful. Your haiku is beautiful. To say your mother would be proud of you does not do justice. Thank you for posting this intimate look at you.
Blessings,
Michael
Comment Written 26-Mar-2017
reply by the author on 26-Mar-2017
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Yes, Michael, it wound not do justice to say my mother would be proud of me. If I see farther and achieve more as a poet it is because I stand upon the shoulders of Mom, a giant. Thank you for your review.
Comment from Dean Kuch
Wow, Andre. I'm speechless, and believe me, that's highly unusual for this "old boy."
My mother too is a poet, and thankfully she is still with me here, on this earthly plane of existence.
She'll often call me, just as your dear mother did, to ask, "So, son. How's the writing coming, any luck?"
Like you, I usually just sigh and say something like, 'Yeah, mom, it's comin' along okay, I guess.'
But now, after reading this, I see there may be a much deeper meaning for her asking.
She simply wants me to be happy just doing what I love to do.
Just as your sweet mother did for you.
I want to tell her before her butterfly dies, dries up, and is whisked away by the winds.
And I will.
I'm going to call my mom tomorrow and thank her for planting the seed in me she did so long ago.
I'd never written a "formal" poem, nor had I ever been a published poet until I joined FanStory in March of 2013, four years ago.
I now know I owe her at least that much...
~Dean
reply by the author on 26-Mar-2017
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Wow, Andre. I'm speechless, and believe me, that's highly unusual for this "old boy."
My mother too is a poet, and thankfully she is still with me here, on this earthly plane of existence.
She'll often call me, just as your dear mother did, to ask, "So, son. How's the writing coming, any luck?"
Like you, I usually just sigh and say something like, 'Yeah, mom, it's comin' along okay, I guess.'
But now, after reading this, I see there may be a much deeper meaning for her asking.
She simply wants me to be happy just doing what I love to do.
Just as your sweet mother did for you.
I want to tell her before her butterfly dies, dries up, and is whisked away by the winds.
And I will.
I'm going to call my mom tomorrow and thank her for planting the seed in me she did so long ago.
I'd never written a "formal" poem, nor had I ever been a published poet until I joined FanStory in March of 2013, four years ago.
I now know I owe her at least that much...
~Dean
Comment Written 26-Mar-2017
reply by the author on 26-Mar-2017
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Oh, thank you, Dean, for calling your Mon up tomorrow and thanking her for planting the seed in you so long ago. I wish I could have done the same for my mother. I will thank the Universe instead. Thank you for your generous, six star review.
Comment from kahpot
What wonderful insight your Mother had as this (both) is an excellent read I am sorry your Mother did not get to see you fly thank you very much for sharing****kahpot
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The highest and the lowest rating are not included in calculations.
reply by the author on 26-Mar-2017
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What wonderful insight your Mother had as this (both) is an excellent read I am sorry your Mother did not get to see you fly thank you very much for sharing****kahpot
This rating does not count towards story rating or author rank.
The highest and the lowest rating are not included in calculations.
Comment Written 26-Mar-2017
reply by the author on 26-Mar-2017
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Oh,thank you, Kahpot, for your review. No, my mother did not live to see me fly, but knew of my potential. Thanks again.
Comment from Gypsy Blue Rose
Your haibun is beautiful!!!!!! I love it soooo much, Andre. It moved me. I love your mother and I don't even know her. Well, it's imposibble now but you know what I mean.
She sounds like quite a lady, your loving mother, how lucky you are. But she was lucky to have you too. You are so talented.
Good job, honey, I am proud of you.
Gypsy sensei haijin
reply by the author on 26-Mar-2017
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Your haibun is beautiful!!!!!! I love it soooo much, Andre. It moved me. I love your mother and I don't even know her. Well, it's imposibble now but you know what I mean.
She sounds like quite a lady, your loving mother, how lucky you are. But she was lucky to have you too. You are so talented.
Good job, honey, I am proud of you.
Gypsy sensei haijin
Comment Written 26-Mar-2017
reply by the author on 26-Mar-2017
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Oh, thank you, Gypsy,for your loving, six star review. Yes, my mother was quite a lady. I lucked out with her. Thanks again.
