Chrysalis

Leaving towns, people, and old things help us grow into our own.  Not all relationships are meant to last.  As a teen growing up on the Long Island suburbs, I listened to fellow Long Islander and known singer, Mariah Carey.  (Some other Long Island grown entertainers:  Billy Joel, Natalie Portman, and the Baldwin brothers!)  Carey's early albums, songs from her Music Box were played regularly on my stereo.  Though Carey had a successful business partnership with her first husband (many of her songs went #1 on the Billboard chart), it left her exhausted from a controlling relationship.  Carey broke free, and finally branched out on her own with her debut album, Butterfly— her freedom symbolized by a butterfly—flying and leaving something behind which was unsuited for her. 

A friend wrote me a poem about his betrayal from a friend.  This poem covers related subject —the land and the vineyards rot and spoil the fruits.  Neither fertilizing nor helping the grapes grow, instead they spoil them. 

The following poem was inspired by Mariah's song Butterfly:




Chrysalis    

When I first met them, the grapes in the vine leaves had not ripen,

It had been encapsulated in the frosty gossamer,

Walled in a jot spot as if I had been,

Been asleep, I had hibernated through all the winters,

No sunlight, no feed, I had no scope to spread open,

But when the grapes began to ripe under the sun,

Larva had outgrown to the four winds out of its shelter,

Grapes in the vine leave turned acid, a decayed avatar,

The rosy harvest left to varnish, lain in astray,

And its neighbor, far and near, pestilent and virulent,

So I moved to another spot where the grapes are well to enjoy,

But the pang, the agony in its final stage lay current,

When I first met them, the grapes in the vine leaves had not ripen,

I fell into a deep sleep, drained my body,

Here and there, fluids in my body sieved, breathing short,

Outside, my bed sheets drenched in ooze and sudor,

Ordeal comes to an end when the outer layers molts,

Been asleep, I had hibernated through all the winters,

Out of its pod, I set myself free,

Free to fly elsewhere and anywhere but here,

But somewhere without bounds and limits,

I’ll fly to where they are ripe for prime and fit, 

That’s where I can shine to the uttermost like Jupiter.