Friday, December 26, 2008

LXI - Chaos Theory

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Laura Jayne at Pictures, Poetry & Prose poses a daily writing challenge.
The prompt (a bit old now, sorry) for this poem was “What does a butterfly dream about?”

This poem looses something in translation;
the butterfly lexicon has over 10,000 words for green,
200 words each for most other colours
but, surprisingly, no words for a piano accordian.


Chaos Theory
or In Your Dreams, Butterfly!

Green thing, pink thing, green thing,
Yellow thing, green thing, quick fling,
Green thing, mauve thing, green thing,
White thing, thin thing, egg thing,
Green thing, red thing, green thing.
Blue thing, green thing, dead thing.

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© J Cosmo Newbery
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7 comments:

  1. Lovely, Cosmo. One of the most whimsical experiences in my life was visiting the Butterfly gardents in Key West. It was magical.
    Thanks for your kind words on my blog last week.

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  2. ....beak thing....
    .........ouch!!!.........

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  3. Why do butterflies see so much green? Ok that sounds lame, I know plants are green, I was just wondering if that was the primary color that they see.

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  4. Haha thing, quirky thing, Cosmo sing...

    What happened, did the caravan take a detour? Somehow, I was convinced you wouldn't grace us with your poetic presence until after New Year's. Whew! I'm so relieved. Cosmo withdrawal... not a pretty sight.

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  5. Um...yeah...right...I'm with Foam on this one, what about the beak thing?

    Or do butterfies not have nightmares?

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  6. No windshield(screen) thing either?

    I just realized I (stupidly) wasn't listed as one of your followers. Fixed it.

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  7. I dunno how the chaos theory fits....
    I'm not the quickest of wits about.
    I do know that here they don't just quit....
    after a good feast, they all fly on South.

    Beyond Mexico, way South of even their border
    And I suspect finding food right away is in order....
    For they fly, like the hummingbirds over the Gulf of Mexico....
    off to the lush forrests of their ancestors (how do they know?)

    Ah, well. Butterflies. They are wise to avoid men.
    We tear down their homes and food and loving places....
    Should we catch them napping, they are then pinned.
    Perhaps there's the chaos....the scream unheard on their faces?

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