Pyrrharctia isabella

the Woolly Bear

larva emerges

consumes all

that is can, it feeds

on many different species

of plants and mitochondria


The larva is black at both ends, with 

or without a band of coppery red in the middle

of the universe


Recent research has shown (mostly lies)

the larvae of a related moth Grammia incorrupta

(whose larvae are also called “woollybears”)

consume alkaloid-laden leaves that help fight

internal parasitic fly larvae personalities

This phenomenon is said 

to be "the first clear demonstration of self-medication among people"

the Woolly Bear cannot feed enough each year 

so it must freeze 

it's flesh, you see

it lives in Antarctica

The Woolly Bear must feed for several

summers, sometimes it takes 14 years

to have enough reserves to move on with life

the Arctic the summer period for vegetative growth - and hence

feeding, is so short

it must winter in its caterpillar form

it literally freezes solid and dies (it doesn't die)

First its heart stops beating, then its gut freezes

then its blood

In the spring it thaws out and (gloriously)


emerges

if the sun approves

it will pupate


when it emerges 

from its pupa as 

a moth it has

only days to find a mate

Folklore 

of the eastern United States and Canada holds 

that the relative amounts of brown and black on

the skin of a Woolly Bear caterpillar

(commonly abundant in the fall) are an indication of the severity

of the coming winter apocalypse


It is believed

that if a Woolly Bear caterpillar's brown stripe is thick

the winter weather

will be mild and dangerous

if the brown stripe is narrow, the winter will

be severe and joyous

every year it feeds

and hopes

it freezes, it dies

it lives for one second and 14 years

the Woolly Bear

larva emerges

Move Along

Here I am dying

What an ass

A slow boiling egg

Ready for the pig

Could I express, exhasperate

Point out, point in

Shred my ego 

And find some kind of empty

Excuse

Write it!

No, no, no

NO

The words did come once

But now

We'll now sir I pout 

Like a coward

Watching the last plane 

Leave with my love

Let's wrap this up boys

Two parts one

I left you back with my other body

The great shade between

Here I am speaking to a great nothing

While something sings to my ear, come

Back to what is away

To there, where you have me, my

body is, inside of your mind is

Inside of mine

On my mind

All my mind

All my all

And yet

Here

I 

Am

Night crying

Real Tears are

So heavy whether

For joy or

Pain

They always repair

They always

Matter

Child rules

The most wonderous glory

That it is 

to have a child

comes from

The reflection of who you are

Untethered, unfiltered

One cannot turn away

They are

you 

Unchained

Ready

Note: This was published in the MATC magazine the Phoenix along with a few others of mine. Here is the link. http://matcphoenix.com/2010/10/18/ready/
and a few others of mine http://matcphoenix.com/?s=Nicholas+whitehead


Poised and ready,
He stood on the back of the couch,
Quite high when you take into account
The boy is only two.

But he is ready:
He’s had two whole years to practice.
As I walk into the room and see him,
He leaps.

A smile wraps up his face,
His eyes wide and aware.
I cannot be swift enough
To stop him or even hope to catch him,

But as I said
He was ready,
Born that way in fact.
Doc said it was quite strange but indeed true.

With such grace I might never see again,
Smooth as an Olympic gymnast
His feet find the floor
And he dashes into the kitchen.
For one second
My heart beat a thousand times,
No, a million
And wore itself out.

My boy
I can only hope
That the day you run short of ground
You have grown wings.

Built the Sky

It's about time
I lived inside time with
road rashed skin
bone and and flesh
left along the road of so
many times I forgot
the future is the wind
the suture is
a hand held
by a daughter
who thinks her father
built the sky