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Kaleidoscope Butterfly


Author: Malcolm Bishop
Elite Ratio:    2.09 - 355 /189 /39
Words: 535
Class/Type: Poetry /Misc
Total Views: 1382
Average Vote:    No vote yet.
Bytes: 3709



Description:




Kaleidoscope Butterfly



Loud rain batters ageless cobblestone,
cracks of crashing clouds punctuated by brilliance.
Merchants shout their wares from stands on roadside,
foreboding structures gaze the crowds and those alone.

From Brown Street he comes, clutching at thin coat,
head bowed, shoulders hunched, pushing into wind.
A ragged scarf clutches his neck,trails in the gusts,
a symphony of despair, never a joyous note.

With a saunter full of pity, he ambles upon the street,
shouts of merchants fill the ears, well-to-dos' pass by.
Head is down, staring at punctured boots,
a man calls him by name, says he would like to meet.

With pause and reluctant thought he strolls through clouds' cry,
"I have someth'n for ya." The merchant says,
The man looks at him quizzically, and replies,
"I have no coin,if tears were currency I could buy."

The merchant grins and hands him a parcel, a ribbon blond,
"Take this,take this and you will be a pauper for tears."
With quaking hand,he takes it, a tubular package,
lifting his head to give a "thanks", the merchant is gone.

Down the road he walks,parcel in fist,
upon a damp bench he arrives, where he rests.
Pulling the paper asunder, his eyes gaze on splendor,
a beauty he'd never seen,a feeling surpassing first kiss.

The kaleidoscope is silver,covered in butterflies,
on each wing of each creature are four pearls.
"beautiful." He whispers.
He picks it up, and places it to eye.

Diamonds,pearls, flakes of gold lay within,
he begins to turn the cylinder and is awed by the sight.
The treasure inside rotates and collapse into wonder,
upon the bench he sits oblivious to all,friend or kin.

The treasure begins to take shape,
a gasp emits from stubbly mouth.
He continues to spin the cylinder,
his eye widens, mouth hangs agape.

Wings form, translucently divine,
a pearl, north and south of each.
Gold falls at center of wings,
slender body forms,perfectly in line.

Gleaming antennae grow from head, bejeweled eyes,
he watches patiently, heart in full gallop.
Now fully born, immaculate creature turns end over end,
mesmerized, he stops the cylinder when creature is realized.

Eye begins to tear, fore it hasn't blinked,
the butterfly rests on its' side, framed in suns' light.
A wonder of the world held in hand,
vision focused on the exquisite,earth has begun to shrink.

In mid-thought, flutter of flawless wing,
life breathes into beautiful insect.
Startled, kaleidoscope nearly falls from hand,
within childs' toy, the most beautiful amongst things.

The clatter of gold against glass of lens,
emancipation is what this creature seeks.
Not wanting to let go, he knows he must,
takes splendid toy from eye, a sight he will never know again.

In his grasp, the instrument is turned, lens facing sky,
with seven twists, it is removed,silence follows.
Slowly leaning forward, he peers inside,
blackness is what is seen,a flash ensues as the miracle flies by.

It hovers at his face, no more then an inch,
diamond eyes stare intently.
The man lets loose magnificent grin,
then,a jolt,everything fades,someone has given him a pinch.




Submitted on 2005-08-19 14:16:06     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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Comments


  A very interesting story.

This line was touching ""I have no coin, if tears were currency I could buy." < I'd be a millionaire if that were the case]

And you continue to hold my interest, as within the gift emerges an intricate butterfly.. then from the kaleidoscope it flys.. freely away.

And at the end it seems it was only a dream?

Your descriptions throughout were captivating.

Nice work.... wish I were the butterfly :)

~Sandra
| Posted on 2005-09-08 00:00:00 | by Intricate1 | [ Reply to This ]
  A very enjoyable story, you've thought this out well.

For such a long piece, it needs more of a hook at the start to drag the reader into the story, as you do once he talks to the merchant. After that, yur vivid descriptions of the kaleidoscope are excellent. There are really only some tiny suggestions, such as "With a saunter full of pity, he ambles upon the street," the words saunter and amble just don't fit with the "pity" as they imply more of a happy step.

Very good overall, I really enjoyed it.

Be Happy

Graeme.
| Posted on 2005-09-06 00:00:00 | by wewak11 | [ Reply to This ]
  Very good! I like the story and the remark the man made about tears and currency. The imagery is great as well. I don't really have a favorite part this time, for I like it all.
| Posted on 2005-08-19 00:00:00 | by thesinoftaima | [ Reply to This ]
  At first, I didn't catch on very well, but by the middle I started seeing interesting images in my mind. It turned out to be a beautiful story. For some strange reason as I read it I kept thinking about a poem I wrote called "silver" which has nothing really to do with it. Anyway. Good job.
lynn
| Posted on 2005-08-19 00:00:00 | by lynn7 | [ Reply to This ]
  Nice piece you have here. For some reason it has a very historical feel to it. For some reason I want to say Victorian.
However your language is very, VERY confused in places. I don't know whether it's because you were trying to make it sound antiquated or not, but some of the sentances just mean nothing at all.
This one here's a good example:

Merchants shout their wares from stands on roadside,

If you like, drop me a PM and I'll go through and pick all the lines like that out, I just won't do it now in case you either can see what I mean, or have no desire to revise the poem.

The other thing I'd say is that it reads far too much like prose from about 4 stanza's in. I think the best way you could fix it would be to be brutal, don't describe everything, halve the amount of verses you have here. Don't narrate in such a way that you're telling us everything, that's not what poetry is. There's nothing wrong with being a little obtuse sometimes.

Still, despite all of that, this one certainly has it's moments. I love the first two lines, and this one too:

you will be a pauper for tears

Oh, but speaking of, naughty naughty, you're still not putting capital letters at the start of each line :)
The feel of it reminded me of going to a big old city like York in the rain. Maybe it's just me, or maybe it's the kind of poem that's going to connect to everyone, but this one pulled on some very strong images and memories for me.
| Posted on 2005-08-25 00:00:00 | by shatteredroses | [ Reply to This ]


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