http://slow.writerscafe.org/butterflywoman The original writings of author Katherine Wyatt en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776265793 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 Words for Realms with No WordsBlue shimmering SoulStreaming golden frequenciesIncandescent open Heartstreamings divintiesSpeaking no thingness through Mind/Eye portalsbursting through Silent acapellasIn Heart chords of SoulSpeak merging cross Species ....S.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/butterflywoman/2808024/ poem http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/butterflywoman/2117141/ Such a reverie, clothed in a gilded coat of arms,playing harps that reachedacross veils of time and smiling charms,........softer than the moon..... I walked between two worlds, eyes closed as spirit spoke.. stepping through chords of dusk in sapphire cloaked.. easy as the m.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/butterflywoman/2067155/ My god, I saw itafter the impact passed.. once they cleared away the blood and glassno one was injured but now I see........this was what it took to gain more clarity.... have I mentioned I despise rhyme?Perhaps, this universal two by fourwas trying to confer....alas, dear one, we are out of time..... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/butterflywoman/2065849/ Poetry has teeth and it eats me...   poetry isthe explosion when my soul is on fire. poetry is love and sex and death    .. bluebirds and camelias cannot survive theheat.. of words bleeding through flames ...  or walk betweenworlds .. ..&n.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/butterflywoman/2065848/ ~missed it All............. I would have followed you anywhere, but you were.... chasing only commodities where I was concerned...... dollars and breasts and fantasies. .... those that were mine .... .as well as others....You were .............everything I wanted and Now ..... I see y.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/butterflywoman/2031881/ I weep for India... once my soul's escape...... oh India... how you suffer... how you suffer souls..... exhale your grief and unsacred fates..... those lies that make me weep with tears inhaling ancient olde.. India whose child calls me a a simple guest.. I walked along your ghats and Himalayas brie.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/butterflywoman/2022081/ -I danced among amoebas.......they were once celled but people with many cells.....     believed they had some strange power.....how we laughed together...amoebas and I.... as we danced in the cooling waters of the Strange....     almost subtropical South......call.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/butterflywoman/1975829/ ~they are not overly concerned with rooftops, and most of them own tents....yet sleep where they please....     they are always smiling and have the largest eyes......    no particular color;brown eyes, blue ones, green, there are no colors of importance to the tribe....&nbs.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/butterflywoman/1975825/ prose poetry about the quirky awesomeness of New Orleans http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/butterflywoman/1942196/ ~I write because someone once told me to give it a try I was a scholar and poetry seemed absurd then.. I write because it helps me to grieve, or to celebrate... to remember with some kind of honor something or someone in the past who made life shine for a moment life is .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/butterflywoman/1936242/ ~things I noticed http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/butterflywoman/1930980/ ~you were treading that emerald green, singing thehistory    of yourpeople, and I was somewhere in time where sunlightstreamed through trees while I was     peasant orroyal or somewhere in between      &nbs.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/butterflywoman/1915616/   , Waters, morphing, flowing round me in greens, gold,and blues      sculptingthe landscape      my perspectivesand spirit dancing as water    ease andflow… Sunkissed, sparklin.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/butterflywoman/1908073/    I stepped into your always when you whispered me  even though Iwas so far from you physically    spiritcalled to spirit       flowers blooming carried your message    breezes ofnight trave.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/butterflywoman/1900974/    She never would have seen the lie behind the orange robes..holy men were supposed to be faithful   He lied like honey on top of the most sacred mountain     it took another of his kind to reveal him   selling the sacred for the price of betrayal.... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/butterflywoman/1892713/ We canonize the dead as if they were never   human,despite realities  these fade toforgotten as we attempt to split the veils  retracting infear, and all that was becomes a new historyblack hats and white hats are set in stone    as time i.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/butterflywoman/1890863/ impressions of the movie and the man http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/butterflywoman/1888834/ She is serpentine and extraordinary she will tell you how beautiful she isand she is..They follow her an entourage seeking spiritual connection she creates space for them limiting them without their consent, choosing who is in her inner circles telling them how beautiful they all are but her to.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/butterflywoman/1885522/ comedy http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/butterflywoman/1882742/ ~political reflections.. people reflections http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/butterflywoman/1880411/ Your Majesty, you tossed a portrait awayscaled to a locket’s size you kept in your pocketgazing in trance at her now dead to you through the oil paint, her eyes still afire She was looking at you as the artist rendered her countenance but your dark overpowered her luminescence Quic.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/butterflywoman/1875119/ Sunlight on my bones seeping through skiesinto the stone above where I lieone version of me, one individuationSuch silence here as stones grow grey-black with soot and timeAllington castle reveals its flowers to my remembranceeyes falling upon blue blossoms about the waters that grow in this .. Now&.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/butterflywoman/1870360/ Walking connected to all that is ancientQuintessentially walking in the olde waysfeeling the stars and moon deep within our bones. that bond formed in the womb of the Earth and the mother…We are learning the ways of those who walked before ussome walked in dark black robes and others were lig.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/butterflywoman/1867461/ I could swim in lucid imagery about an “us” that wasn’t such indulgence would be narrative folly… as dream states revealing coffins where those who knew died themselves awake to warn me of snakes behind a doorwound uncoiled in my mother’s buried and rotten womb edg.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/butterflywoman/1864702/ How I yearned for you and that sweet obsession to fall in loveis to lose all reason to delicious meditation on only  the beloved’seyes, supple lips, and how they were made by creationparticularly and specifically for only our ownindulgence   Adulat.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/butterflywoman/1859750/ There were pieces of people all over the tablesome of them were magicians and some students.. they were all going to die, but the goal was to stayalive There were angels scratching down my spine   in a room that smelled of burnt cookiesno soft cushions, only .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/butterflywoman/1846884/ You bathed me in incandescent moon whisperingancient angelic words along my spinewe started with such heartbreaking innocence who knew thestrength of such a thing We are waterlilies and sky..   asphalt androad burn and sunsets meltingstarbur.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/butterflywoman/1846198/ I was the lightning painted on your face,  you the stigmata bleeding from my palmsthat red blood pulsating    under theeclipse of a Blood moon Such intense wanting of a shadow    me, busypulling you into the light  you.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/butterflywoman/1836638/ This letter is a much for myself as you, and asalways, I don’t expect it to be met with an open heart. When I buried my motherthere was never an apology, but I did my duty anyway. You only saw a glimpse ofwhat I endured, but it was best that way. You were born of a love- -the spirit .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/butterflywoman/1825446/  Rolledup in an asphalt chamberbleedingthrough the cracks you madepoundingwith your fist like thunderseekinglight for some escapebuildingBarbie dolls to worshipholdinghate in cherished gobletstornbetween your light and darknesspourthe blood of.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/butterflywoman/1822310/ ~Shiva &Shakti Desiring Him since thefirst world began, He rose like a wild wave and dragged me helplessly into thesea of Bliss. I, the goddess, fierce, withfire running through my spine and life pouring down around us both. He held mein his arms like a hollow bone, a fl.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/butterflywoman/1818122/ In the quantum field of love you were standing theredeflecting that light,angel wings buried under piles of poetry soaked insaline of tearswhile your bleeding shoulders you dismissed asirrelevant,    How I wishedyou would have come out of the darkness, stepped into.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/butterflywoman/1815376/ When Shunka came to us five years ago he had been “neutered”and had nothing much left down there except the little weiny of a “weiner dog”.I am fairly certain of this because I removed the three stitches and my dog hadno balls. He was officially a eunuch and all was wel.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/butterflywoman/1813711/ Soulspeak me, entwined and entangled breathless inhaling one another as essence; oxygen exchanged in akiss    breathing usinto one anotherThrough each eternal return we are conduits of loveand light tenderly alive for oneanother While the world was hang.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/butterflywoman/1812247/ ~city of shadows and lightsWhen he was younger, before the meth and the cocaine and the copious amounts of alcohol changed his face,he was a sexy man. He was a bit on the heavy side, but bald looked fantastic on him, and his eyes sparkled when he smiled. He was not an educated man, and fell into the.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/butterflywoman/1809397/ ~about the cat  I am convinced cats live on a different plane of realitythan we do. Dogs don’t even get cats. This may be why the ongoing feud betweenthe two “domesticated” creatures continue to this day. Dogs are domesticated. Cats tolerate us humansfor.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/butterflywoman/1807805/ ~prose and poetry.... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/butterflywoman/1806130/ Those who kill their own children anddiscriminate daily against them because of the color of their skin; those wholet the murderers of blacks remain free, protecting them, and furthermorepunishing the black population because they demand their legitimate rights asfree men " how can those who.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/butterflywoman/1804121/ ~if you are local to New Orleans this piece will be more amusing.. I hope... but it does seem to be my dog's way of thinking http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/butterflywoman/1801717/ When you walked into the room allthe colors seemed brighter. Being with youit seemed herewas nothing I could not do. Youwere a conduit allowing me access to that place inside me where Itouched my own light.  The lightwas always my own, but you were a switch, that turned me on.&nbsp.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/butterflywoman/1798713/ Decorated woman wearing paint on your facehair braided interwoven with beads  warrior woman, curves and strengthlover and chalice bearer.. Alchemy woman mixing blood and lifehuntress and mother you are Moon    Bone woman who knows sacred syllables.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/butterflywoman/1797448/ I found my a*s in NewOrleans taking a ballet class in Treme. The sun was setting, light streamingthrough the windows over a dilapidated shotgun home. The light cast my shadowin two dimensions on the studio wall. That's when I found my a*s. I had always hada nice a*s in my younger years. Ball.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/butterflywoman/1793839/   Enthralled I strungtogether rose petals.to place around your neckAs once again we emerge from individuation toindividuation carrying starlight on our fingertips.  Wearing robes of sunlight, youare my eternal return love unrestrict.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/butterflywoman/1790920/ I see youin soft lightfootprintsnext to my ownin the sands where the herons lift to flightthe soundsof the syllables of an ancient languageareleading us to sacred groundin thatspacewe claim....  the peace bequeathed to usand restthere as in this realm..we touchstarlight and walk t.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/butterflywoman/1790899/ WITHINby Katherine Wyatt I am the sound of the wind rustling through feathersAs the eagle soars between mountain peaksI am the space between the last breaths of the dyingAs they leave life behind for the next and grow weakI am the gray that floats in the fog when changes arriveHolding the poten.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/butterflywoman/1790895/ Tall lanky black woman in a tank top and stretch pantsshe looks about my age. but somehow the years are older on heror she is younger than me, but it is hard to be certainTall black woman with dark skin and boney chestBreasts full…. but bones showing and pointy elbowsClavicle bones creating .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/butterflywoman/1790887/ Lover of my pen dissolve into me like the ink into thepaperMy words have no harsh message to deliveronly your strong soft and my wanting   The air around us is thick and heavy there were so many losses and they hidein memories and dreams and you have loved another.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/butterflywoman/1790051/ There was fire on the waters as vast as our connectionunder a slate gray sky glazed in cloud coveras the thick summer air warmed us to glowing Rippling across flaming light the rumbling of heatthunderwith such soft vapors mixed a delicate cocktail of humidity fusion, b.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/butterflywoman/1788986/ That Canadian Friend that flew down to enjoy the warm weatherwas met by the sweltering heat of this old city, sitting beneath sea levelwith its graveyards and ghost tours and poets whose visionis tied the anomalies of a land occupied so many times it is disconnectedcreating its own love affair with .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/butterflywoman/1788975/