Butterflies that paint the world in beautiful colors.

Butterflies that change reality into a dream world.

Butterflies that tell lies instead of reality.

Butterflies that carelessly fly without aim.


Where are you!


I’ve seen a butterfly dancing in the air in front of me.

I tried, but I cannot touch it.

Sweet movements in the canvas of reality.

Bitter feelings of cross worlds.


Logic against the so many times mentioned freaking guts.

Standing in the cold, sweating the heat of summer.

So many lists, so many thoughts.

Paralyzed by dull materials that conform reality.


Sweet, beautiful butterfly that creates neon lights in the air with unsought movements or premeditated intentions, yet exists and calls for a revolution.

And the sun and the moon keep turning and turning!


I know, I’m screwed!  :(


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2 Responses to Butterflies

  1. I really enjoyed reading this poem, Raul. Beautiful. II read it about 3 times… trying to put my finger on what it was that touch me. It was subtle, just like the butterfly actually… and fragile :) That was why I had to read a number of times to recapture my thoughts — they kept flitting away!

    My favourite line in this poem was “bitter feelings of cross worlds.” What that means to me is that I would much prefer to fly carelessly without aim and not have to justify or feel less than on those days… To not have any specific world that I have to fit into.

    Raul Ojeda Reply:

    Hi Davina,

    Thank you for your kind comments. Coming from you it means a lot to me :)

    Yes, wouldn’t be wonderful to be really free? Free from what we are acustomed to believe, and be able to open our minds to our surroundings as they are?


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