Numerous brown or gray or black with yellow,
cycling aimlessly in our in ground pools
crawling beneath our feet
on the patio or the attic stairs.
They wander in the sky free as ghosts
cut off from some mortal body.
Taking to the air with ease
Buzzing fluttering gliding leaping
Raising many-colored wings to the sun
Dancing through space in a blur of busy fury.
No matter what we do
With our mass produced machines
Our moving pictures, booming sounds
Our wireless connections
We will never feel the wind on our faces
The sun on our wings
We will never fly.
Comments
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great job !
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true
True, but the flies don't have the mental capacity to really enjoy taking flight, now do they? It's just "what they do." The joy we can experience from, say, listening to music probably far surpasses what insects experience when they take wing. But I still see your point, for all we've accomplished, not that much has really changed for us.
Until we invent jetpacks, at least.
This poem made me feel itchy!
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Love this..
This is really cool, I love the well thought idea, I love what it's saying. Yes, it's nice to be human with technology, and we can do amazing things, but no, we will never fly, we will never feel the sun on our wings. I guess standing on a mountain and feeling a strong wind would be the closest we'll get to feeling the wind on our faces, ya know? Very very cool.
I like the alliteration and the imagery. I think some punctuation could help the flow, and basically just some punctuation polishing really...Other than that, I really love this.
BRANDON
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Wonderful
imagery here!
Love how this flows & your word choices are so right on. 
You paint the 'progression' of the caterpillar to butterfly in such a poetic way. You took me on a mental journey & I thank you for that. 
All the best in the contest. This is worthy. 
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