Aircraft blazin' fuel
Aboon, "done-with's" grave floods sight,
A calm midnight rain,








The mind racing. Why

Must the nurtured be blind eye
Wilie McTell? Pain.

The mind racing, on
A smile,
Lonesome star in opaque
Darkness, Freedom

From label. Freedom
From responsibility.
Freedom from action,
                                      Is this noble,
                         Or a jester's play in chess?

Oh, must I turn my fist to face aloft,
Straighten my clenched fingers, present you
Burning embers of admiration, that for so long
Have been stitched into my palm,
Gifted from a passive voyager afar,
Weary, to announce affection,
For a grasp can only
                         Last as long as
                                              Two hands want to clasp.

                                                         ­                      What is on your mind?







                                                Airc­raft blazin' fuel
                                                Aboon, "done-with's" grave floods sight,
                                                A calm midnight rain.

                                               A chance to breathe.

                                               Be my Sheppard.
                                               Lead
                                               Me to pastures of serenity
                                               To graze in, until my eternal slumber.
                         That's where I want to be.

Bitcoin’s easy if you try
So simple now - I’ll tell you why
It’s not complex - oh contraire
You can buy it anywhere

Cash App makes it really slick
And others too - just take your pick
Venmo’s fast, try both - compare
You can buy it anywhere

PayPal offers Bitcoin buys
Get some while you order fries
Buy on Coinbase from your chair
You can buy it anywhere

Use Voyager - or Gemini
Buy it low or buy it high
So many options, I declare
You can buy it anywhere

Use Crypto.com, or FTX
Buying bitcoin is better than… a kiss
Do it quietly, or with fanfare
Just buy your bitcoin anywhere

Binance, Celsius, or just use Strike
Buy bitcoin (safely) on your bike
Think for yourself, and stay aware
You can buy bitcoin anywhere

Trying to learn, while I learn to fail
Not to be fixated now that I have set the sail
Towards a wiser me, maybe a brighter me
Decided to travel through the travesties,
Only to enlighten me.  

All I was hoping for was an illusion,
Was it an illusion of my creation?
Maybe nothing but just a delusion,
Maybe I'll get through it, hoping for an end
Never realized how I was missing the point,
When I let my laughter suspend.

They say it is all about the journey and not the destination,
I always figured they didn't understand my situation
What's the worse that can happen, they ask
Well, I may come short of the handed task.

Is it all in the process, I wonder
Is pondering about the end game always a blunder
Weren't we all meant to get somewhere, achieve our goals?
Or are we always trying to fill a hole,
A hole without which we can't be whole,
A part of us, this hole so wide,
It can make you do the unthinkable,
A hole of the unknown in our very own little fable.

I'm always at war to figure out the answer,
Maybe the quest in itself is a paradox,
Maybe I'd be better off figuring out the way
To love the journey and finally think outside the box.

The answer had always been in front of my eyes,
I couldn't unwrap myself from all the lies
The untold truth of what we were supposed to be,
Not finding the hidden treasure but being the voyagers of the sea,
For the treasure is what you see,
When you become better than what you were meant to be.

Just a little older, just a little wiser
Now understanding that I was always a miser
Holding onto my darkness and never letting go,
Now I'm making memories that I can never blow.

The destination had always been on my mind,
Always right in front of my eyes,
I was clouded, I was stranded
The rewards always seemed nice
But walking when I was supposed to run
Made me comprehend that the journey is what is fun!

We watch from space
Safe in our spaceship
As a small rock planet,
That has orbited it’s star
Over seven and a half billion times –
All those billions of its years –
Is peeled away
And eaten
By that very sun
That gave it birth.

Two and a half billion years before,
This star ran dry of hydrogen
And grew
From yellow dwarf to red giant.

Now, nothing is left of three of its worlds,
All engulfed by flame
As the sun grew
Into a giant ball of death.
All history is gone.
Nothing to show
For countless civilisations
That adorned the third planet.

But oh what’s this?
We spot a tiny spacecraft!
Must reel it in.
Examine it.

It has a name:
“Voyager 1”
Inside: a Golden Disc!
A Golden Record.
We can play it.
Images of hairless bipeds.
Ancestors from that third planet.
Sounds of animals and someone laughing.
Images of bipeds taking sustenance.
And best of all
More sounds
Of something called “Rock Music”:
A being called “Chuck Berry”
“Singing a song” called “Johnny B. Goode”.
For we have feet too
And it makes them tap.

Paul Butters

© PB 12\12\2019.

The afternoon heat hung like a rising fever.
The old iron gates of the school yard wait to swing.
My feet planted near the outskirts.
Sweeping the sticky hair from my face,
alone I wait.

Chocolate melted in my pocket.
Minutes turn to hours.
A gallery of photographs has passed me by.
Panic snickers, searching for your face.
The waiting, the patience,
feeling more like a punch, than a verb.

The chocolate now a sticky ink, staining my pants.
I feel a voyager aboard a lost ship, floating,
hoping for shore.

Sudden without warning,
you grace my sight,
slow motion, near the gate door.
In one swing, you're here.
The wait long forgot,
hung on your beautiful stare.

My mind, an ocean of thoughts
You, a voyager, courageous and patient