butterfly pain 🦋

Butterfly pain. I’ve seen this. I’m sorry I’ve got no story today. I went into a house with dying sick dirty old people. They were watching a preacher on tv and they had a 16 year old dog who peed all over their rugs. The implication of this has me feeling lost, in a grief unbound by the simplicity of loss, no something darker. Our own inner floor? I hope not. Let’s not wait until tomorrow to vacuum anymore ok? Let’s not leave food on counters and mold in our toilets. These things all grow while we die and in the end we lose to them. Yes I’m morbid, dark, perverted, defiant and exposed. Yes I have no cover to hide under. No I didn’t see it coming. I thought of all of you and I sent some songs and it’s because the pain hurts worse when you bury it in dirty dish towels than if you’d just take a stand now, for the sake of us all. I am dying and so are you. We might get this straight if we stop ignoring the old man in the wheelchair and the old lady who smells like bad bread and if we just love somebody fast and hard, not soft in all the wrong places and ways.
This is life and it’s a desperate burden that we carry, to be brave and determined, to accept our untainted love as it rises against every beating of the fist. Why won’t you believe in this blindsided love? Stop hurting yourself you’ll end up a cripple all curled up and drooling sitting on a dark couch in a dark room that smells like death waiting to die. Don’t miss me, don’t turn away. Don’t eat any more flies. Please be a believer in
the butterfly who blows and spins on the wind she pretends to ride. We all know the wind rides her like God rides us while we go nowhere. Why have you done this? Now God lies shriveled on the floor, a mangy blind cat, a bitch who can’t spell, a man with no ribcage, an unopened gift of more. Please live and stop dying, I can’t take it anymore. The stench of rotting old people, children wearing condoms, ugly breath going down on me. I suffocate and call it prayer. What can I do but beg you to love me? Who is this person watching life die? All around inside the circle of me trying to see the light I can’t hide…the light. Looking deeper than sight. And it doesn’t matter where I go, it’s all bearing itself to me, flashes of pain, unirrigated. Flashes of a darkness even I can’t see, the darkness is darkness period. Opaque. Unquestioned subservience to the rotting, acceptance of the disease, feet you don’t use, hands that touch no one. Well I can’t be that. I can’t die unloved by me, then this light reaches out from your eyes and I think I struck gold. Riches I found in you and it’s rare that money isn’t everything or anything that we count or can count on. It’s just this priceless, precious definition of you that goes without saying- where the day comes from when we rise into the sun all burned up and shining because the light was, the truth was, we didn’t need to rot, we needed to feel the filth and love her light all over the place. We only needed to see each other. Clear light. This is all I ever wanted to say. I can’t bear the suffering of the daily funerals and medications that invite helldogs to ravage the trash cans at night looking for you as a snack or a cheap drink of sex…I don’t even make any sense. They’re all dying and rotting and there are no cocoons in sight. How are butterflies made? Pain. Terrible heavy pain that swam into the light to find her and then she grew wings and let his light touch her dark and that love of their touch began to swirl and paint the sky with your butterfly heart. Free and breathing to life the great flower that flies like a kiss, crying the love sky to death. My only prayer is for more tears that look like you. Tears that make butterflies out of pain. More butterflies everywhere spawning…my poem of this tragedy is unwritten, my words live in disguise, crying I come and crying I go into you all over again, making moons weep me into their light like that song…dog and butterfly, you know she had to try….Sharada Devi

20 thoughts on “butterfly pain 🦋”

  1. Sky,
    Take me, like a desperate inhale or
    even worse. A first breath. Full of pain
    Unknown, I am. Given in,
    Moonlight song
    Looking down, the light falls, out
    Her eyes 😣
    Hurry. The candle’s burning*

    1. float fly die to the sky
      hallelujah hari krishna
      I thought of sri radhe I held
      out my hand to his sound in the light
      last night at the aarti when all
      became the lord of love
      do I live in a fantasy i believe no
      I live on my knees begging him
      for the dream of his kiss
      always radhe the one who
      is loved by the dark who
      is floating on light
      Govinda my sky,
      butterfly I’ll be his dancer
      nothing wearing nothing
      but him
      this is how we fly die float
      and never stop crying
      mystical tears that fall
      from the butterfly’s
      it’s the song I hear to leave on
      every time my breath is dust…

          1. what is left is you.
            hear my song
            or I am gone,
            as Sharada Devi’s ghost

          2. it’s the lionheart needs to be felt. i guess I have to speak my voice up
            thank you for your spacious heart.
            trident from below. piercing

          3. i know it does. i keep saying,
            speak up, into the silence
            the lion roars, someone should
            hear this…without interpretation.
            raw open heart song, yet nothing.
            only riddles you prefer as
            tender hiding places.

          4. Black train Goddess,
            Delicately holding
            As I roar
            Down the track.
            What can I say
            Of this hurt. It opens
            So easily now
            Jai Ma⚡️
            The father sits

      1. No fantasy
        the lord of love is everywhere
        touching all and everything
        His sweet kiss turning the mundane into bliss
        permeating the air
        a lingering prayer
        is He
        there’s no place that He’s not in
        i am imbued with the blue hue of Him
        may the aarti flame dance in my heart evermore
        speaking His divine name
        such sweetness
        Sri Krishna Govinda

    1. thank you so beautiful
      almost but not nearly
      as beautiful as you
      horse whisperer Lori

      she can talk to horses
      and heal people with
      the horse’s breath of light.

      I’m serious. She’s a spacious goddess
      who lives in the wild forest winds…

      1. AUM
        When I read this it got me thinking. A long time ago I read the story of Jona & the whale. Jona in the belly of that whale maybe in some ways the same as what you are describing. Thanks for the inspiration I will reread the story of Jona.
        Jona being absorbed by the darkness was that really a whale or maybe, just maybe there is more to it than what is written on the page.
        Oh, this is nice thanks for the joy!!! I am going to spend some time with Jona
        AUM TAT SAT

  2. Reading your tender words brings me to my knees (you always do) and I’m in deep prayer alway always, always and forever, as it feels your words are writing the stars I dream of and the very thing I long to say… and my eyes burn hot with tears of sorrow like acid rain as if there is such a ruin all around with so many broken hearts, broken lives, all these lives ending so tragically and it doesn’t have to be this way, but it is, and it just goes on and on and when will it end?

    The forever love song of the beloved sings sweetly all the time and yet there is such abject poverty and broken minds and hearts and it sings on and on forever and my heart cries out Ki Ki So So … aka I love you more.

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