She was as bright as her virtue
as honest as any new borne / reborn...

She suffers her husband's hand
when it use to lift
her to the heights of moon dance and Valentines,
young love masquerades
since now she clutches beads
rosary pearls and holds distance
as a barricade
the space of air for breathing
the length of hand to mouth
bereavement

She suffers acquiescence / quick-step /
tango / running man
by his command - Miller - Bud
Colt45 on hand
she is maid a waitress cook on call
an olive skinned blow up doll
it must have been love
she suffers the fall...

She lies every way every day
at every party guest & passersby,
a mental check list to memorize
sculpts her husband in marble
a pillar to look up to
while she fears to be left
alone / behind
when it is closing time...

She suffers desperado Jane
at the end of her rope
never had harmed a soul,
but hers in giving to such love
in this living
she suffers hell / enough...

Fall asleep angelically
a fistful of prescription tears and drink
oh to dream would be a kindness
a sliver of hope / she thinks
of no more bruises or dread
of dying / knife of kisses
or scythes of apologetic ***
nights of kneeling
to be barren and unworthy
to usher in new life

she suffers vex and hexes
in silent graces
as she exhales the last of her nights
memorial of starry eyes
in youth in love
in his hands
uplifting
now clear of tears / for fears /
with better sight
her heart on love needs correction
from her ghost of recollection
since past and now
have no reflection
on the grace that mothers Tao

She suffers epiphany
anew and laughing at the site
below
that double wide / coffin /
cacophony of supremist white...

When her inner heart flies right
She suffers no longer longing or apart
all our dreams and graceful light
carried within
an ark

She suffered not from drowning
but a prey
upon the heart
This ends
as she again will also
start ...

My darkness wants to play
"Find a victim" it says
"He who has no sin may cast the first stone"
But my darkness does not care
Her craft she wants to hone

There is one who has sinned
Broken hearts unable to mend
How shall my darkness proceed
Knives and axes are a must
She must complete the deed

Take this one down without fight
My darkness revels in this might
Tie the one up and then proceed
A cut here and there
Done when the heart stops its beat

My darkness is once again sated
She is the one who feels the hatred
It is as though nothing is how it seems
Wake up, sweat covered
It was all just a dream.....

ever a mountain could ascend
higher than any eagle soars
into heaven's nearing earth bound
humanness

Farther than the seas wave
lonely until they break
lonely upon  distant shores
without a sound

harder and more steadfast
my steps on this mortal soil
have led me to this
reality,

I would visit hell for
the kindness of a stranger
or burn my stake of pride
sit cross legged  forever

to just one day see
the sea wave the mountain bow
the Eagle land
the stranger smile

I have four scars on my face.

The first one from a little girl
Apparently snatching toys
Is the equivalent of stealing
Hearts to a five year old girl.

The second one from a *****,
A ***** was lodged into tissues
And while weeping, I
Stupidly used a tissue that left
A ***** size scar.

The third one from a party,
One where I thought it would be
Smart to play traffic police to
A fight between two teenagers,
Screaming 'stop and go' for turns
Of punches.

The fourth one is a scar
That started in my heart,
A permanent indentation,
A resultant from too many sad days,
That forced a frown to be my natural face.
The fourth scar is the scar
That made me lose my smile.

Words slither from their mouth 
The sound ripples
in her ears like the drops
of water from a lonesome cave
She decided to build a wall
and hear no more echoes

In silence,
the heart pitter- patter's
the lungs pounding... in and out
wanting to tell that she's alive,
telling her in a mute
'don't let your gutsy soul fly'

In silence, 
there's too much noise

so she just decided to break the walls down as she rose from solitude.

over the hills where wild raspberries grow
ripe under the mulberry bush in the valleys
blush hidden from most , sweet nectars rush
I found Eden and Eve and everything
yet no apple  or serpent,
desire entwined with
limbs -  fruit of heaven
on earth- her awaiting

At long last Winter wanes
Slackening her icy grip
On our frozen land.
Those tiny buds
Have shown their heads
Above the parapet.

Spring’s summer promise
Wafts through the air:
The ghost of life
Warming everywhere.

I found a rhyme!
That’s so sublime.
Those Muses have awakened too.
All’s moistened by the morning dew.

Wizards of the word can now rejoice
At Nature’s wonder,
Singing with a soulful voice
And a crack of thunder.

April showers
Sooth the bowers
As May is on the way.
Soon it will be June in bloom
And an August holiday.

Is Spring or Summer my favourite season?
Well both are better than Winter’s treason.
It’s great to have these longer days
And soon we’ll be lounging in sunny bays.

Paul Butters

Cloud Cover

Veiled Mist
Hidden Behind
Dark Droning
Curiousity
Lives
Unheard of
Shadows
Not Yet Met

Cry of a Country
For the Unrobing  
Of Its Liberty
Tears a Luxury
Still Un Wept

Get a Sling Shot
For the
Jettisoned
Handshake
Rocket ship
Of Hospitality
Quickly Now
Blood  Lives

Claiming same *** relations
To be the pitfall of a nation
Cleansing complete souls
Causing shattering and holes
In the name of fictitious practise
Of a religion that asks us to act as
A dictated definition of normal.

A savage hypocrisy
Between finding love
And finding acceptance
With belief that
Same *** relations
Calls for some repentance.
We forced kids out of homes
Pushed adults to take their lives
Yet still claim we support
Their conquest for love.
Where kids held their heads in shame
As though they are ones to blame
For all the wrong turns the world gives
And all the insults they receive
cut deep into a part their flesh doesn't enter,
Into their hearts.

We tried to play god,
Generate a society of facade
And the resulting chaos,
Heartache and suffering
is merely a start.
So until same *** relations
Is fully accepted
We'd always be indebted
To those who walked
In silent shambles,
Indebted to those
Who became voiceless
Not from fear
But from tireless
Nights wide awake
Struggling between themselves.

We tried to play god,
But instead god played us.