Metaphorical MicroStories and MicroPoetry by Raymond Bevilacqua Steinmetz©
April 22, 2024
Step into the enchanting world of “Bamboo Butterflies: Metaphorical Flutters,” where every microfiction story and micropoetry verse stands as a different tale that unfolds like a delicate dance, capturing the essence of the resilient whispers of bamboo and the ephemeral grace of butterflies, floating from one bamboo reed to the next.
Imagine each metaphorical narrative as a singular fluttering moment, delicate yet purposeful, akin to butterflies traversing a landscape of resilient bamboo. While each of these microliterary pieces has their own unique essence and narrative, they are all seamlessly interconnected by the collective shimmer of these figurative creatures’ wings, creating a thematic cohesion.
Navigate through a kaleidoscope of emotions and experiences. These metaphorical morsels invite readers to savor the beauty of individual moments, each a distinctive flight in the larger overall narrative of microliterary work. “Bamboo Butterflies: Metaphorical Morsels” unfolds as a collection where metaphor weaves its way through disjointed narratives, uniting them in a composition of interconnected tales.
Life is a highway,
a road of endless adventure,
Where every twist and turn
reveals a new conjecture.
Life is a highway,
paved with choices to make,
Each crossroad a decision,
each turn a chance to take.
Life, akin to a bowl of cereal,
unfolds with each dawn
as a fresh spoonful of experiences.
Sweet bites, dripping with joy,
mingle with crunchy challenges.
The milk of time gently tempers the edges,
where every flavor contributes
to the richness of one’s narrative.
Fear is like a bull coming at you full steam,
its hooves pounding the ground like thunder,
and you, a matador in life’s arena,
must twirl the cape of courage with grace,
sidestepping the charge,
a choreography that transforms fear
into a symphony of triumphant survival.
A door is like a book
where the creaks and groans
are reminiscent of the rustle
of turning pages –
each sound a chapter
in the narrative of a space,
flipping softly like a
well-thumbed novel –
a door that opens the
pages to the lively scenes
of household happenings.
Mist is like a sorcerer’s spell,
casting a hazy enchantment
over the ordinary,
transforming it into the extraordinary.
As it weaves through the landscape,
it conjures a mystical realm where
reality and illusion dance
in ephemeral harmony.
Six regal trees crown the ridge –
winter’s catwalk elite.
Draped in a delicate cloak of snow,
they pose as statuesque models,
limbs stretched toward the sky.
The sun, a warm spotlight,
caresses their branches,
weaving shadows that
waltz in the hushed, icy breeze.
Life’s a steam train,
chuggin’ snowy peaks,
Clickety-clack echoes
making rhythmic streaks.
Whistles blow life’s tales
disappearing in the air,
Tracks mark life’s journey,
winding us everywhere.
Steam puffs ignite dreams,
but dark tunnels reveal,
life isn’t what it always seems.
If I were a lighthouse,
I would boast my art,
Guiding far beyond,
setting the finest apart.
With beams of precision
that illuminate so rare,
I’d be the beacon
that outshines in the air.
Storms may rage,
and fogs may confound,
Yet my light, a legend,
in brilliance would abound.
Blackened by madness,
a ghostly pianist played
a melancholic tune in
the dilapidated theater.
No audience remained,
yet the haunting melody
echoed through the
decaying halls,
a requiem for
forgotten performers.
Sadness, a tree in lament,
its branches bent beneath
the weight of heart’s sorrow.
Once vibrant leaves,
now in woeful despair.
Roots entwined in sorrow
anchor in desolation.
Hope’s winds prove feeble
against the skeletal frame;
barren boughs cast
shadows of grief.
Under the weather,
the author battled
a relentless cold.
Yet, with fevered determination,
he remained lost in
the world of words,
crafting miniature tales of
passion and despair that
mirrored his own struggle against
the relentless forces of illness.
On winter’s canvas,
tractor tracks scribe
nature’s calligraphy –
a delicate script of resilience
on the frosty earth.
Each line testifies to
the harmony between
human effort and the
stoic beauty of the cold,
a tale etched across
the frozen expanse.
In a hamlet where
time moves slow,
A weathered church stands
in winter’s pristine snow.
Nestled ‘neath ashen,
far-reaching skies of gray,
The aftermath of the snowfall
is silent as people who pray.
In the hush of a
monochromatic
gray panorama,
I stand tall—a lone tree
embraced by the serene
energy of the crisp season.
A sleek, solid black fence
accompanies me,
navigating the chilled air,
enduringly connected to
the strength it bestows.
Grave roots are
inching their way
down to my heart.
Candle flame –
past melts and
present flickers.
Shadows pirouette,
a spectral allure beckoning.
Each creak,
a gateway to enigma,
where the elusive
ghost in the attic
unveils the cryptic
chapters of your
untold story.
In pride’s palace,
the arrogant stand tall,
oblivious to echoes of downfall.
Like a shattered mirror,
reflections reveal fragility
masked by certainty.
Arrogance blinds to
humility’s cues;
tragedy unfolds in isolation.
World applauds the genuine,
shunning vainglory.
Her gaze,
silver shards,
revealed an iceberg
beneath her smile.
Cranberry kisses,
winter memories
sweetened by
grandma’s love.
In the forest’s hush,
a man bows with grace,
His kowtow whispers,
a quiet embrace.
For choices he molds,
like the trees tall and free,
In shadows, he finds,
who he’s meant to be.
Content of his character,
a silent decree,
Day by day, in the woods,
his soul is set free.
A rebel is a wildfire,
igniting change with
unbridled flames.
Small is relative.
In the vast cosmos,
even giants are specks.
Likewise, in life,
modest deeds can
wield cosmic impact.
Embrace the might
of the seemingly minute,
for greatness often
dwells in the modest
spaces of our existence.
In the shadows
where silence grows,
Promises smash,
like shattered windows.
Whispers of pain,
where darkness shows,
In the wreckage of a soul,
a broken rose.
In verily vineyards,
‘neath moon’s serene shine,
Where delicate vines intertwine,
grapes in clusters align,
There flows a nectar,
rich and red, divine,
The ruby elixir,
termed by mortals,
sweet-aged “cherry wine”.
Tech innovations,
gears in play,
Human warmth encoded,
come what may.
Elevating the virtual,
a shimmering dream,
In our shared context,
a digital stream.
Bits and bytes in
a dance so grand,
Pseudo-humans traverse
this electronic land.
In the grip of a cold,
my ears reveal a
disconcerting duet-
a low, ominous buzzing
like an emergency signal
intertwining with high,
icy-pitched sounds akin
to children’s screams.
Together, they echo
through confined spaces,
a discordant dance
of discomfort.
Moonbeams cradle
over the mother’s breast,
engorged with nourishment,
as her porcelain teardrops
fall gently on top of her
newborn’s tiny fingers.
In Danish markets,
winter whispers tales,
snow veils canopies,
faces shrouded.
Women in scarves,
men don solemn hats.
No laughter,
just frozen whispers
of Christmas in
the serious hush,
where snowflakes alight-
a market in winter,
a tranquil and
contemplative night.
Ebony curtains
veil the somber
theater of life’s
tragic play.
In the shadows,
lost at sea,
Voices echo,
haunting me.
Through the darkness,
a subliminal plea,
Oh, won’t you come
and rescue me?
Stars above,
issue a decree,
In this silence,
set me free.
Through the storm,
let love be,
Oh, won’t you come
and rescue me?
Liar, liar, trust expires,
your tales ignite a wearisome fire,
In the ruins of deceit,
yearnings for truth to transpire,
Promises crumble,
like glass in the pyre,
Tapestry of lies unravel,
leaving naught but the mire.
Puttin’ on the Ritz,
it’s easy to see,
Such style and grace,
like it ought to be.
Dressed to the nines,
from head to toe,
Puttin’ on the Ritz,
let the good times flow.
Eternal motion,
a celestial ballet,
Where visions twirl
and doubts sway.
In the cadence of courage,
aspirations unfurl,
Forward momentum,
the compass of the world.
Weather forecasts
are reminiscent
of relationships –
often stormy,
occasionally sunny.
Candles roam
through many
hearts looking
for love.
Fragile be power,
a double-edged
sword that,
mishandled,
can wound the
wielder more deeply
than any foe.
Sink into a pillow so
soft and comforting,
it feels like resting on
the downy feathers
of not just one duck,
but a thousand of them,
cradling you in plush bliss.
Time sighs
a glimmer away
from eternity.
All steps that
people take are
frosted footprints.
Blazing holly
burns hearts
with a
festive roar.
We are but fleeting moments,
captured in the ink on
paper of life’s grand novel,
each chapter telling the story
of our transient existence.
Amidst the blooms,
where bees make chase,
Bitter honey drips
from petals’ embrace.
A taste of love,
in nature’s sweetest strife,
Bitterness turns to sweetness
in this abundant nectarous life.
The good ones escape.
Patience and persistence
are your strengths.
Read the tides,
respect the currents.
In life’s storms, endure;
calm follows.
Cherish quiet moments;
the soul finds depth there.
It’s about stories in the waves,
not just the catch.
A solitary campfire
on a desolate shore,
mirrors the human struggle
for meaning in the
vast expanse of existence.
Dancing flames illuminate
a spectacle of self-reflection,
casting shadows that reverberate
in the abyss of the soul’s corners.
Fire and sea confront life’s vagaries.
Snow’s silent cloth
drapes all in hushed repose,
Within, life’s tale unfolds,
a cozy prose.
Wrapped, I ponder naught,
a tranquil retreat,
The world outside silenced,
under a snowy sheet.
Seek not in
frigid warmth
what’s found in
genuine affection.
Amidst winter’s hush,
I roam the quiet plain,
Footsteps echo,
a solo refrain.
Undulating hills
in moon’s soft gleam,
Stars weave tales,
a cosmic dream.
Serene solitude,
a companion to the night,
Stillness whispers,
a communion of
soul and night.
In life’s furnace,
adversities act as
the blazing forge,
molding our character
like skilled blacksmiths.
Embrace the searing heat,
for in its transformative blaze,
resilience is hammered,
and the soul emerges,
tempered and gleaming
like refined steel.
Delivered in a goldenrod beam,
incantations deploy,
weaving the mystic void,
where dreams and
reality entwine.
Embrace the celestial spell –
stars align, as silence speaks,
and magic, boundless,
awakens the unseen.
Envision the mind as
an endless ocean,
thoughts as waves
of intricate information.
“Having” a thought is
surfing these waves,
navigating our existence.
In this reflective surf,
memories ripple
like endless tides –
a perpetual self-discovery
shaping the shores of
consciousness.
Tension unbridled,
emotions run wild
like a herd.
Courage races,
leaping over hurdles
of uncertainty.
In the emotional rodeo,
resilience forms an
unyielding alliance,
conquering the untamed
landscape of challenges.
Standing in the
enigmatic entrance,
courage unspools,
“It was not an easy
door to open.”
Philosophic alchemy in
toxic shadows it fuels.
Farewell’s hushed
whispers resonate,
a melodic strength
within the tone’s embrace.
Self-redemption’s art,
a phoenix path’s place.
Spring is here.
I’m just kidding!
Snowflakes falling,
winds are fiddling.
Nature’s prank,
a chilly spree,
Blossoms sleep in
concealed mystery.
Giggles looming
in the frosty air,
Winter’s joke,
is beyond compare!
Capture evanescent
moments within
time’s delicate grasp.
Loneliness is a canyon,
echoing with fierce illusions.
In the symphony of existence,
being true to oneself is
the melody that resonates,
creating harmonies of self-discovery.
Meadows blush
as rolling dawn unveils
nature’s nudity.
Oh, Atlanta, where peaches sweetly sing,
Traffic jams make our tires do a spring.
City of grits, with a side of drawl,
In this southern mess, we laugh, y’all!
Nostalgia’s twisted boundaries –
memories blur in softened hues.
Freedom soars,
united clouds
paint the
sky’s doors.
Laughter,
a vivid release,
dissolves winter’s
icy grip.
Lion’s ignited bones
bear scars from
battles fought.
Striking hours tick,
melting glaciers
mourn in sorrow.
In ideas’ garden,
mingling matters
blossom diverse
philosophies.
Volcanic eruptions
evoking Earth to
shape itself up.
Poet’s flight –
crippled wings
narrate life’s
poignant struggle.
Dust-kissed wildflowers hide.
Silence,
an allusion
pregnant with
the weight of
unspoken words.
Whimsical frayed breath.
Poet’s pen mourns
the verses of
paradise erased.
Eyes,
lyrical
windows
to the
soul.
Time crawled at an
unbearable pace,
like slimy,
gooey molasses.
Proverbs,
falling like
snowflakes,
a melting
touch endures.
Ships are dreams afloat,
Navigating life’s vast sea.
Hulls carry hope’s weight,
Sails catch breezes of destiny.
Harbors are goals embraced,
Journeys forge tales untold.
In their wake, courage unfolds,
Ships are the stories of souls.
Every road winds through
the terrain of purpose.
No path truly leads to nowhere;
each holds the footprints
of stories and discoveries.
Even the broadest trail,
seemingly untouched,
unveils its tales,
refusing to dissolve
into the void.
Within mind’s river,
fraying vices
erode its banks.
In solitude’s garage,
fortitude revs like
a resilient engine,
fueling positive
mental drive.
This motor transforms
into a guiding transmission,
navigating life’s curves
with confidence,
and steering
through self-discovery
like a well-tuned vehicle.
Feasting flurries blanket everything,
ignorant of aesthetical rules.
Rumors spread,
gaining heat,
like an
uncontrollable
wildfire.
Periwinkle psyche
floats on
ephemeral dreams.
Old before I die,
I hoard the bitter
elixir of life’s regret,
extracting wisdom
from the haunted
corridors of my existence.
In the melancholy twilight,
I navigate the elusive realms,
etching my narrative
upon the sepulcher of time.
Striking lights
offer hope’s flicker
in the wasteland.
Strive to derive
pearls from pain.
Glasses are windows to clarity.
Undershirt, second skin.
Shirt, emblem of refinement.
Tie, sartorial signature.
Jacket, armor of elegance.
Underwear, silent guardian of intimacy.
Pants, hugging companions.
Belt, keeps pants in check.
Socks, cozy allies.
Shoes, trusty steeds.
Billows of emotions
are the tumultuous
seas of the soul,
where waves of
sentiment crash.
Hug your bug,
hiding underneath
the rug.
Spin like
you’ve never
spun before.
A seasoned jockey,
a maestro on equine strings,
conducts his horse like a virtuoso,
in a flawless polished cadence.
Swaying in tandem with his
equine companion’s stride
at a heart-pounding pace,
the conductor orchestrates
a four-beat precision,
deserving of thunderous applause.
Rain gush
adorned flowerbeds,
floral baptism.
Slow to move,
slogging through treacle.
Motion cannot
be silenced,
only hushed.
As iridescent as
a siren’s call.
Ideals dismiss,
fade into
elder’s dust.
When the sun hits the sky,
It’s a key that unlocks nature’s eye.
The world awakens from its dreams,
Like a river bursting at its seams.
Day’s arrival, a silent, golden cry.
Lacking luck,
we sculpt diamonds
from life’s pressure.
Dancing through life,
we jitterbug through
time’s rhythms,
each step a lively
testament of resilience.
Swinging through
ups and downs,
finding solace and
strength on destiny’s
vibrant dance parlor.
Withering
cruelty
bites back
in time.
Preying eyes of judgment
bloodied mercy’s forgiving grace.
Temper’s raging volcano
spews unbridled fury.
Nature is the color of smiles.
Life’s splash
echoes through
eternity’s corridors.
Grief’s deep
swellings envelop,
aching in
silent solitude.
Starlit canvas
softly scribes
legacy of
waking moons.
Trembling tears
of disbelief
at deceased son’s
reappearance.
Sabotaging is
nothing more than
planting thorns
in your own garden,
and pricking
yourself needlessly.
Perilous cliffs
challenge eagles
to soar.
Beneath the cerulean canopy,
a ballet unfurls.
Swallows glide in synchrony,
heralding vernal’s rise.
Their avian elegy,
a prelude to renewal’s swirls.
In azure arcs,
they paint the skies
with sapphire dyes.
Arise ye,
as fruit-bearing
branches do.
Inside the right side,
outside beckons.
Flaming tongues
incite the fervent
fires of revolution.
Effervescent
jubilant
champagne.
In the kitchen’s heart,
the brass-handled
tub gleamed,
a cauldron of
culinary alchemy.
Skilled hands deftly
mixed exotic spices,
evoking anticipation
with each aromatic wisp,
lingering long after
the meal’s last bite.
Fleeting feather fury.
Her fingers were
spilling silk over
the newborn.
Loneliness felt
within jagged,
isolated shard.
She had a network of little birds
who kept her informed about
all the happenings in town.
Their fluttering wings and
subtle trills conveyed secrets
veiled in the lace of society’s guise,
lurking beneath the
polished veneer of daily life.
Knowledge
crushing minds
amidst the library’s
towering shelves.
Elsewhere,
my veritable
essence roams
unseen, free.
Bittersweet silence,
an ocean of memories,
where waves of sorrow
kiss the shores of solitude.
Drowning voices
made the embarrassed
politician’s escape possible.
Wisdom’s counsel
brought sweet
diffusion in
his words.
Treasured parting point –
where lessons linger,
futures beckon.
Ashes spark life.
Crys hover
with the aching
reality of loss.
Within virtual realms,
unearthly visions
redefine human
existence.
Equal elements
assure that music
conducts humanity’s
symphony.
Voltage-soaked
landscape
thrums with
unseen energy.
Time’s deafening hush
muffles worldly clamor.
Truth’s clarion call,
gathering fire
in seekers’ quest.
Kitchen aromas,
flavors combine,
gathering fire
of cuisine.
A secret isn’t
a buried gem.
In the chiaroscuro
of experience,
perfect parity
paints.
Like a gardener tending
to soil and seed,
In patient nurture,
where abundant dreams feed.
With sweat on brow
and hands that toil,
Nothing’s unattainable
in lush, fertile soil.
Amidst the cacophony of existence,
In the labyrinth of fleeting moments,
Misplaced, the echoes of our quintessence,
In the symphony of cosmic fragments.
Assorted smiles scatter,
like autumn leaves in flight.
A comedian’s
timing,
a conductor
orchestrating
laughter with
intuitive sense.
The young child’s innocence
was a freshwater brook,
untouched by the stains
of worldly cynicism.
Within the
labyrinth
of thought,
intellect’s roar
navigates, charting
a course through
depths of wisdom.
Pavement sizzles,
floating heat waves
shiver feverishly upward.
Alabaster maiden,
the snowdrop’s delicate
form mirrors the purity
of untouched realms
beyond mortal reach.
Philosophy’s
lantern is an
oracle illuminating
existential questions
in darkness.
Smoldering silence
consumed my restless
thoughts at night.
Fading moonglade footprints.
Shelf your ideas;
hubris deceives like
a fog obscuring
distant peaks.
Let humility be the
clearing wind,
revealing truths
beyond ego’s shroud.
Captivity’s
dreams
suffer behind
invisible bars.
Sky mirrors mallards.
Raymond's TOWERS, 2024© 