there was a little meerkat he lived in zoo
miles away from home feeling very blue
missing all his family very sad was he
hoping maybe oneday his family he would see.

he decided to escape anyway he can
meerkat he was clever and made himself a plan
he waited till the dark so no one else could see
squeezed out from his cage now at last was free.

then he saw a boat anchored in the bay
meerkat decided he would stowaway
then the boat set sail and headed out to sea
he was heading home happy now was he.

meerkat made it home to his desert land
underneath the sun with miles and miles of sand.
surrounded by his family like he was before
happy and content he was home once more.

there was a little meerkat he lived in zoo
miles away from home feeling very blue
missing all his family very sad was he
hoping maybe oneday his family he would see.

he decided to escape anyway he can
meerkat he was clever and made himself a plan
he waited till the dark so no one else could see
squeezed out from his cage now at last was free.

then he saw a boat anchored in the bay
meerkat decided he would stowaway
then the boat set sail and headed out to sea
he was heading home happy now was he.

meerkat made it home to his desert land
underneath the sun with miles and miles of sand.
surrounded by his family like he was before
happy and content he was home once more.

A.
a child hears fairrie wings
amidst a damp forest, the meerkat
morning is peering over
the womb of night
is emerald  - within the dawn :
a spectral spark
nature
B.
harmonious pristine in essence
imagination staves a longing  
a lifetime, unseen to the human eye
moss, fern, gully green
grace immortal, golden, true
meerkat's observant utter innocence
sunlight now settles over day
clay is the sky, clay is the earth
clay is time .. spirits spiral out
into twilight, soft as electric rain
steaming, luminous pond water
let go
C.
that dream,
the most youthful childhood
by the light of the moon
dreamt, and dreamt a little harder,
a went on to grow up ..
..and dreamt
-of a far away lagoon
where meerkat looks on
as undiscovered as imagined
maybe real
on another planet, -in another galaxy
as real as hearing a flying fairrie's
wings sing.

there was  a little meerkat  a lovely little soul
he live in the wild inside a little hole
he would roam around in the desert sand
then  on his two back legs the meerkat would stand
looking out for danger when  ever it was near
then warn all the others when the coast was clear
they would play all day underneath the sun
chasing one another having so much fun
they all lived together the way that it should be
these creatures of the wild with there lives so free

there was  a little meerkat  a lovely little soul
he live in the wild inside a little hole
he would roam around in the desert sand
then  on his two back legs the meerkat would stand
looking out for danger when  ever it was near
then warn all the others when the coast was clear
they would play all day underneath the sun
chasing one another having so much fun
they all lived together the way that it should be
these creatures of the wild with there lives so freel

there was a little meerkat he lived in zoo
miles away from home feeling very blue
missing all his family very sad was he
hoping maybe oneday his family he would see.

he decided to escape anyway he can
meerkat he was clever and made himself a plan
he waited till the dark so no one else could see
squeezed out from his cage now at last was free.

then he saw a boat anchored in the bay
meerkat decided he would stowaway
then the boat set sail and headed out to sea
he was heading home happy now was he.

meerkat made it home to his desert land
underneath the sun with miles and miles of sand.
surrounded by his family like he was before
happy and content he was home once more.

He heard her before he saw her
When he saw her he turned into a meerkat.
Her high heels seeking his attention.
He drew the line at sniffing her when he realised she was not dangerous.
She may have turned into a cobra if he did.

MY  WIFE  SAYS  THAT  I  LOOK  LIKE  A  MEERKAT,
LIGHT COLOURED MOUSTACHE, GLASSES AND QUIZZICAL LOOK,
TO GET TO THIS STAGE - YOU WOULDN'T KNOW HOW LONG IT TOOK,
I'M ALWAYS 'COMPARING THE MARKET.COM', LOOKING FOR DEALS,
TO SAVE MONEY, TO SAVE ANYTHING, ALWAYS APPEALS,
NOW INSURANCE IS ALWAYS A PAIN BUT EVERYONE
IS LOOKING FOR FINANCIAL GAIN, AGAIN AND AGAIN,
IF IT'S NOT MY CAR, IT'S THE HOUSE OR SOMETHING ELSE,
THE BOILER, HOME CONTENTS, ANYTHING THAT MAKES CENTS,
BUT I'VE GIVEN UP - EVEN THO' THESE ANIMALS MAY HAVE GOOD INTENTS,
I'VE TAKEN ALL THIS SAVED MONEY, HAVING A BALL,
IF SOMETHING BREAKS DOWN - I KNOW WHO TO CALL,
I DON'T WANT TO SEE YOUR BOW-TIE, THE IMAGE RANKLES,
JUST LEAVE ME ALONE, PLY YOUR TRADE ELSEWHERE - 'SIMPLES!'

A time in hand-cuffs;
… This was in 83’, I remember when because I left for Boston just shortly after Rose and I watched Thorn Birds together on the television in the basement; she allowed me to help her do a spring cleaning and ready everything for Easter Company. We cleared out the pantry closet upstairs putting new paper on all the shelves; we cleared out the kitchen-cabinets and fold and organized the all the linings in the hutch and best of all we enjoyed watching the mini-series together. I love spending my time with her; funny how I see so much of my relationship within the structure of this movies theme.  
We, Lisa, Denise and myself, we’re coming home after a grueling four week gig up at The famous Pussycat Lounge in Boston’s Combat Zone; I was the last on stage that night and after getting off I threw on an old-lady dusty over my costume  and began to rush about packing-up all my costumes. We run out to the van; and after tossing all of the bags and me into the back we start our long drive home;
My Agent, Lisa, with her broken leg in a cast, has out the road-map, her wig’s in her lap and she had a nylon *****’s on her head  she’s in the passenger seat; Headliner Denise (AKA The Luscious Lady double D’s Dynamite) the driver is dripping of the make-up remover on her face… she’s in nothing more but her bra and *******?! … Least I threw on my dusty. I’m on the floor in the back with a flashlight digging through the bags trying to see if I have all my new costumes I won at last night’s Show; we worked a big Jell-O Wrestling Tournament up in Cambridge... Hey, I win four costumes and I want to make sure they weren’t left behind! So, here I am all over the floor in the darkness with my little beam of light as a good hour and forty minutes go by…  I’m still going through the bags. Suddenly, I realize this intense quite?!  I pop up my head; there’s nothing out there; nothing but darkness, no highway, no streetlights just this long silent single narrow road we’re on. I climb up grabbing a hold of the bearskin spread pull myself onto the platform-bed back here and I look through the portholes on each side of the van to see the view… the view could only be described as Sod-Farms as far as the eyes could see; with this misty darkness looms above. It seems to gently illuminate over a kind of rippling sea of blackness stretching out from both sides of the van. I crawl back down onto the floor. I look forward out the front window as far as my eyes see… we’re on a road, small dots roll beneath the van but ahead nothing… our headlight lights diminish into blackness it seems darkness is gobbling up all things beyond us and we are on our way…
“Lisa?” Saying this hesitantly; …, couldn’t help myself there wasn’t a single set of vehicle lights anywhere and where we are being as dark as pitch?!
“Where are we…?”

Lisa turns in this growling tone,“ Someone did not want to go through Connecticut!”

Denise giggles,” Oh, come-on?!  I’ve been this way before… it’s faster taking Rhode Island! It’s an easier drive! ”

So, we go; yeah, down this road three gals’ in this converted van which looks like the red-light-district on wheels; driving somewhere in the middle of No-man’s Land, Rhode Island… At 2 O’clock in morning.

“Oh, ok.” I went back with my flashlight counting up and pairing off shoes.

All of a sudden out of darkness comes… in complete silence, flashing lights!
Denise begins popping brakes; bags dart about … as she sets the van to the side of the road.

Lisa, starts yelling at Nissie , “ You had to…; Had to take us through Rhode Island?!
Two, ******* Black //////////s and a little white cotton-ball lying over luggage in the back! You know… You know we’re all in jail tonight!!! You take us into the only northern state that thinks they’re south of the Mason Dixie “

While Lisa yells, (Huge bags Denise uses at high-end private parties falls from hooks and falls open contents toppling over me.)
Lisa turns to see how the van looks… Here I am; on my *** on the floor with boas dangling off me and an yard-long two header rubber buddy as ‘slap‘ hits down into my arms. There I am bellybutton high in whips, chains and the rest of Nissie’s extensive selection of ******* gear and every kind of Joy-toy which has ever brandished a battery and…

“Jesus!!!” Lisa yells, “Look at …! We look like a Traveling *******! Janice, don’t just sit there! Put that thing down…. Hide all that **** before that cop…”
Bang, bang, bang; suddenly, a cop’s metal flashlight s rapping and taps up the side of the van; the cop stands side of Denise’s door for what feels
He flickers his light into her face.

Lisa yells, “Open your window, Nessie!!!”

Remember… in nothing but a bra and *******!? As dainty as you please, “What’s wrong officer?”
She is saying this while the window handle’s giving her a hard time and she’s trying to wipe make-up Schmitz from her face.
“Why are you stopping us?”

Lisa leans …”Yeah! We’re just trying to get back to New York?!

The officer shines the light right into Lisa’s face then towards me in the back.
“Can I see your license and registration?”
And, I need the Id of everyone-else in this vehicle? Please.”
I call out, “I know mine is in one of these bags; this will take a minute please.

I am freaking and in a yelling whisper, “…, Oh Crap?”
Thinking, ‘There’s easily more than fifteen bags back here on the floor alone??? Half these… open and half empty all over?!
“Crap, crap, crap!” I start pulling at all the bags rummaging through everything.” Crap?!”

I hear the cop say, “Did you realize that you were speeding?”

Lisa and Nissie , “What ? Speeding? It’s the middle of the night?!  What the hell are you….”

‘Holy Hell; they’re fighting a policeman?! Their arguing with a cop about, what time of day it is… And, I can’t find my id???’ I’m pushing and shoving things into piles… All of a sudden…The side door flies open!
“Please; Step out of the vehicle.”
Like some startled meerkat my head pops up, eyes wide, from the piles surrounding me.
“What???” I crawl out.
Now; standing out by the side of the van with Lisa and Denise: And…,
I look down. My dusty snaps burst open.
Here we are! It’s the middle of the night and we’re on the side of the road;
Three women; One, the driver, standing barefoot in her everyday bra and *******; One, Talent- Agent, resting up on the van with crutches and cast on her leg to the upper thigh; And,… me…  I’m standing there in my freshly ripped dusty, revealing a pearly pink sequins bra-n- G string set, black fishnets and matching pearly-pink 5in. Stilettos.

The police-officer looks at me,” Did you find Id?”

“ Sir, no?!  No, not yet Sir. I was looking when you told me to get out … But?!”  I try to head-back into the van,” Let me find it…”

The cop grabs me by my arm and pulls me away from the door; he places me in hand-cuffs?!

“When you can find someone to bring you your Id we will release you to them.”

“ But sir…Please I have Id!? If you would just?!  Please, please allow me back in there?!  I’ll find it?! Please sir, please!”

Lisa and Denise, “Well, we have ours! Let us go!”
Lisa,” Keep her if you want but let us the hell out of here.”
Both of them; “We want to get back to the city!”

Lisa waves at me saying,” Stop by the office when you get back. I’ll store your stuff until you get yourself out of this…”

“Sir, please?! I have to get back home for my kids? I don’t have anybody able to come here and get me. I know, I have my I…”
I yell out, “I remember where it is!” homeward bound   “I know where it is!!!”
I begin pulling myself and the officer towards the front of van;” Lisa, Lisa you have it! Lisa has it! It is in there under her seat! My bag… My bag…?! It’s underneath her seat! Sir, look, Look it’s under there… Lisa! Remember, I gave you it before so you could get our pay from the owner at the Club?!  You said you’d put it there?!

“ Oh yeah; that’s right.” Lisa reaches under the seat and tugs my little bag free.
” Oops…; I forgot all about you giving this to me.”
“ Here you go her Id; could she now leave with us?”

The cop unclasped the cuffs and says, “I don’t want to have to see any of you here again; Drive carefully mind your speed.”
Back on the road and on our way home Lisa screams over and over; “Never in Rhode Island! Never again…!”
I sat there thinking, the two of them were going to leave me back there?  I’d be back there…. without a penny; no money; not even a way home.
Whelp, not the worst night of my life.



Please, I know this to be a short story  but could I ask for opinions?
This is a small segment of the book I've been working on.

Meeting up with the dragon
was a page
out of an intergalactic adventure;
shaking hands with
doppelganger, it was.
He insisted that he is
still a mythical animal
just don't exist in real,
he was so apologetic
to the point of being mawkish,
"Don't want to mislead any one
to somewhere, let's be scientific
to think, you took such pains
to make this meeting happen,
which is not the case in real,
                                    do you see me well?
He was  in panic, it seemed,
took him in confidence and
made him stay put.
"What's real is a long debate
don't think I am real,
material world could
easily proved an illusion
matter in to energy and reverse
is the story we see here
quantum mechanics will
end all your qualms
everything is in a state of flux
even the scientists are,
sometimes they see black holes
and suddenly they think otherwise,
so the universe is not even
a handful of dust, it's energy
playing fancy dress..."
The dragon looked crust fallen,
"you should have met a dinosaur instead
at least they EXISTED,and  Phew, what a variety
much more than a myth, which I am"
"Don't be apologetic, grand father's gift
grandma must have used her fun of imagination
to beget you and raise to such level of popularity
dragon or meerkat, all are fun,  like human,
when none exists, but happily present
in mind and on these  vast spaces our eyes see,
waiting to transform in to quanta of energy
when time summons, and God play dice.

she is waiting outside baggage claim
in blue jeans and a sweatshirt that says **** YALE
she is texting, frowning without wrinkles
her hair a thick braid to the small of her back
even among the smell of jet fuel and diesel fumes
her hair the scent of cedar smoke, campfires
picture it as a long furry tail
a meerkat, they’re cute, they’re carnivores
she stares at oncoming cars
she hops on one foot
I bet she’s really smart, really nice
she has an LL Bean backpack on rollers and a floral garment bag
she turns to me and asks
“Will you watch my bags? I need to ***.”
before I can answer she dashes in short steps
now I notice tall heels below frayed cuffs
the heels lift her ***, nice ***
but she’s younger than my daughter
she trusts me, I feel elevated
she’s gone so long
the pack on wheels, could it be a bomb?
and me standing, guarding
leering old creep nominated to be smithereens of pink spray
but she looked sweet in an intellectual touchy-feely way
no lipstick, no eyeliner
I appreciate girls with no makeup
and nobody puts bombs in a garment bag,
totally against the bombing code
look there sticking out of a pocket of the backpack
a copy of a book, *******
my novel that went out of print thirty-seven years ago
which is twice her age
there was soft down above her lip, meerkat fuzz
my portrait on the back cover, a younger hairy me
did she see?
when she returns I will speak kindly
a bevy of bluebirds will fly from my lips to her ears
an SUV stops, a burly man in coat and sloppy tie steps out
opens the tailgate, throws the portmanteau inside
then the backpack with the book
should I stop him?
“Are you sure you have the right bags?”
I ask somewhat unassertively
the man looks at me like he’s bitten lime
and says, “**** Yale?”
and I nod okay
and just then she bursts out the door breathless
hugs the burly man
not a glance to me, not a thank you for guarding the bags
she hops into the shotgun seat
the words I hear her say:
“Finally, at last!”

if i was a meerkat i could do tv
doing lots of adverts me and family
selling little toys  for a money spree
to support my kids my wife and also me

supporting coronation street in between the breaks
popping on the screen inbetween the takes
just an furry immigrant from so far away
moving here to england where i long to stay.

Certain, Fresh Lad, your Craft's Promise apply
Matter subtract from the Plym's pheromones late
Your own Best Soul; Youth enhance and reply
The Tanned One's Lights; And Career concentrate
One Message sent from your Parents abroad
Which mentored by your Tweeting Aunt confirm
Clip fast your Arms; And Feet embrace the Board
Kick the Meerkat's fears and your Lion burn
So when these Sweeties witness your Best Art,
That same Pastel you carry everyday
Is in you - not There - complete on your Part
And may these Blessings always come your way.
Being your own Boss, your Goal's smile conquer
Burn those Judges; And douse them with Water.

A man
Protruding in the field
Standing in damp grass
A marshy meerkat
Alert sentry towards the sun
Eyes wide catching rhythms
Of the changing times
Of the passing seasons

Similar to this

A cat
rigid black and short haired
Let out of the house for the first time
Finding a spot
Between roots and mulch
Curled eternally  
Once playful
At permanent rest
Connected to the changing seasons
Signaling grave times

Both lost to progress
And disconnected from nature
Each making their return
to the flow of things


Despite unfortunate timings
And with all the wrong places to be born
The mother takes them both as they are
Grateful for her children returning
Pleased she kept the place inviting
And the hearth burning

“Come, take my hand
Put you feet in the soil,
say goodbye, and let it all go.
The earth will catch your tears
Bring them back to sky and
they will grow new innocents.
You will know peace
and be forgiven”

On the morrow comes
Hope with great expectations,
Always toward the Sun.

The rolling hills
Crest and
Dive and
Move like
Oceans,
Covered in armies of trees.

Trees,
Like thousands upon
Thousands of warriors
Made of leaves and
Dirt and
The souls of prehistoric
Insects that may have
Planted them.

The trees carpeting
The thunderous hills
Have a sort of marching
Energy to them.
Like they
Were frozen
In place.

I am reminded of the
Army of terra cotta
Soldiers.
Unstuck in time,
Stunned in space,
They silently guard their own hill,
Crumbling slowly,
Like cheese.

And the terra cotta arms
And the terra cotta legs
Of the terra cotta trees
Are attempting to drag
Their iron roots
Through the hills,
Sinking like lead
Through the earth,
As if it was meant to be the
Ocean it resembled so much.

Maybe,
Armies of troops once trudged
And fought through swamps
As vast
And troubled
As seas.
And a terra cotta war,
Unconqured by
Shattering warriors,
Is left like
Smoldering porcelin,
Still being fought
On the hills
Of Utah.

2.
You can still
See the remains
Of their clash;
You can analyze
Their placement
And movements
Like battlefeild strategy.

You can wonder what
Terra cotta general
Put them there.
Did the trees respect him
As a father?

His tactics
Funneled down to
Swarming like ants
Or dripping like oil.
There is the occasional
Silent,
Lone,
Watchman,
Angled towards the
Power lines,
The coursing blue veins,
And the sky,
Filled with the
Bright and
Rippling trails
Of their valiant enemy.

3.
The terra cotta trees
Give way
To the stone,
Brick,
And steel,
Of an upright man,
Overwhelming white
Against
Overwhelming green
Against
Overwhelming yellow
Against
Overwhelming blue
Against
Overwhelming black.
The people live unaware,
(With meerkat eyes
And posture)
Of the armies surrounding them,
Signaling the dusk of their time.

The trees will outlive us all
By millennia.
Their war will continue.
Our bodies will become
A wave in the hills
That they march through,
A crater in the commander moon,
A foot soldier in their
War,
A leaf,
A branch,
A bird,
Food for a plant
That is food for a squirrel,
Soaked in through
The churning,
Breathing roots
Of the terra cotta trees,
In the living,
Moving,
Tumbling hills.

A thunderclap.
Rain follows.
A sound like rot
slaps from your hollow chest.

Commuters meerkat,
as you challenge
the Silence.
Prunes for faces,
fleeing you.
Peeling from your presence.

Does it betray you?
An unspoken wall.

I hope you washed your hands.

It starts off with your lungs playing tug of war with the air around you.
Your body knows it needs air, but it doesn't want to give it to you.
And you open your mouth wider, in the hopes that someone would hear you but white noise swallows you, and anxiety grabs you, and pulls you deeper into the airless atmosphere.

objects don't look like objects, leg bobbing, finger twitching accompanied by chest filled with nothing. Swollen chest as if you had just swallowed a gulp of water, un yet there's nothing there. A chest with nothing but a confused heart and broken lungs and helpless as you meerkat search for air around you to save you from this waterless drowning.
Anxiety.

It has the power to make you feel helpless, like a power driven man pushing his dominance against you reminding you that you're a powerless woman, and this is what feminity has given you. weakness.
Anxiety.

It has the power to make you feel powerless until you submit to it and give it everything you have.
Your deep breaths can't save you, your stress ***** and uncontrollable twitches are not enough to save you from this feeling of uncertainty.
Anxiety.

Inspiration to the nation
That’s what I’m all about.
Inspiration to the world,
That without a doubt.

I’m a Meerkat teaching the kids to forage
Something much juicier than porridge,
But I show everyone how to dream
Of better pastures
Full of honey and whipped cream.

Meerkats may have lookouts, nannies and fighters
But they are smart little blighters
Capable of vision
In spite of facing derision.

Imagination is the key
To shaking off our shackles
(Whatever they may be)
And running free.

Paul Butters

© PB 4\5\2020.

Brave queen of lions, walks proud among them, watching her people;
Proud lioness, she rules the savanna, all that the eye sees;
Zebra and springbok, hippo and meerkat, all pay her tribute
Under acacia branches, she sits there, queen of the grassland.