Butterflies

A poem by Isabelle Sorrells


There are butterflies inside this cage of mine,

Holding my stomach and heart together.

They flutter about,

Speeding up the metronome,

Warming my blood,

And tossing the contents of my lunch like a storm.

I know,

I’ve seen the x-ray.

Self-Discipline (Lack Thereof)

A poem by Isabelle Sorrells


Hands unshackled,

Legs free to run as they please –

But trapped inside.

Unable

To Captivate my own thoughts as they run rampant.

Caged in the ineptitude of inculcation.

My very freedom is my inhibition.

Distorted direction

My own election.

My only delight to demarcate

These neglected deliberations.

Doors to Nowhere

Poem and Image by Isabelle Sorrells


Double doors of wood and glass

Standing on the tenth floor,

Old and unused.

Chipped paint,

Cracking panes

Blocking the way to nowhere.

Or is it leading…?

An out of order sign is on the wall beside them.

A warning,

Or a rule needing to be broken?

Curiosity discovered

There are no floors in nowhere,

Only air,

With a

Very

………..Far

………………Ground

…………………………….Below.

Surreal

A poem by Isabelle Sorrells


Flowers in by boots,

Clouds in my hair.

Yellow grass above me,

Red air beneath me.

Plato the jilted planet on my right,

Ferris’ wheel to my left.

My mind beating in the space of my heart,

My heart thinking between the clouds.

Hand in foot.

Foot in hand.

Eyes of water to see,

Dali got nothin’ on me.

Ride

A poem by Isabelle Sorrells


Come with my darling

and we’ll fly through the depths.

We’ll drive the clouds!

You and I will cruise across the rings of Saturn

and dance with Andromeda

If only you’d take my hand.

Leap of …

A poem by Isabelle Sorrells


Can you take the leap?

Can you summon the courage

To place your trust

In the cerulean liquid sky?

Can you trust it to catch you

In clouds of effervescence

When you step off the unshakable security of solid ground?

Abandon its consistency and aegis,

In exchange for the thrill of discomfort?

Can you stop thinking for just a moment,

Close your eyes,

And Jump?

Sunshine

A poem by Isabelle Sorrells


The sun is cruel and it is kind.

It makes me feel alive and at times dead.

It fills me with warmth on windy days,

A delightful reprieve from cold

That reigned for so long.

It forces the water out

To cling to my skin

Bringing a flush to my cheeks

And to see green where it does not exist.

It makes my work hard

And my rest at times full of both happiness and loathing.

Some days, I am grateful for the sun.

Some days, I am grateful for the clouds.

Puppeteer

Poem and image created by Isabelle Sorrells


These things attached to me

Thin spider’s silk

Gleaming in the light.

Strands of glass

Unbreakable.

One lifts,

My limbs follow.

I’m at it’s mercy

And it’s command.

I resisted, in the past.

But I have found it easier

To let these strands of glass

Do it all for me.

I never realized

The one who held these chains of control

All along

Keeping me captive

Was me.