Confidence is key
In oh so many ways
Much more than with
The things you do.

Walk tall, stand still,
Be open and direct.
Show them all
That you are completely
Unafraid.

Don’t fidget, look around or gabble on.
Don’t show your anxious self.
Speak slowly, with pause
And show you are assured and calm.

For confidence is like a virus,
Spreading out throughout the room,
Infecting all
With that assertion
That You
Are Number One.

If only I myself was brought up this way,
Who knows what I’d have done?
But better late than never,
As they say.
Let’s start,
By being tall,
And cutting out
That slouch.

But remember,
Never compare:
Treat everyone as equal,
Never be arrogant:
Be gently assertive.

Paul Butters

© PB 9\3\2018.

See the grandeur of our universe:
Flocks of far-flung galaxies,
Shrouded by clouds of swirling gas.

A vastness too great to comprehend,
Filled with solar systems
That defy imagination.

Yet none of this is as wondrous
As a tiny bug:
A “lickle life form”
That can look around
And say to itself
(In a language of its own):
I am here.
This is my world.
No idea what is beyond
What I can sense,
But I know I’m here.
And even the greatest galaxy
Cannot do that.

Paul Butters

© PB 19\3\2018.

Don’t cut all your food up before you eat it:
Slice as you go.
And don’t mix up your curry and rice first:
Take some curry, add some rice…
“But I can eat it all at once this way”.

Cut your box hedge only once or twice per year.
“That will let it grow six foot high instead of four though”.
Do all your shopping at once.
Plan ahead so you don’t have to nip out for things.
“Hate shopping. Rather buy as and when.”

Put your Geraniums in pots over winter.
“I’ll need hell of a lot of pots!
Will break the roots
Digging them out
Of that claggy soil.”

Your Artex could have Asbestos in it:
That could be dangerous.
“I’m not about to drill into it
And breathe in the dust am I?”

What you don’t know when your car MOT and tax are due?
“My garage knows and they look after me.
But I checked them on the internet now.
The garage is right.”

You didn’t know you’d paid off your mortgage
And you claimed for a moat?
“I’m a politician”.

Why do you put all that ******* on Facebook?
“Because my friends Love my posts and say so.”

You are supposed to…
You shouldn’t…
You should…
You mustn’t…
You Must!

"People!"

Paul Butters

© PB 26\3\2018.

People playing out time.
They work all day
Doing mundane jobs.
Passively watch the telly
And play on their mobile phones.
Week in week out:
Same routine,
With the odd break.

So what is The Purpose
Of all this?
We have our struggles and strifes,
Our glorious wins –
All forgotten once we go.
Generation follows generation,
Each an essay
At the game of Life.
So I ask again,
What is The Purpose?
I've asked this most of my life.

All I can say,
Scratching my head,
Is that we are here just
To Appreciate
The Beauty
Of our Universe,
This World we call “Earth”
And all that Mother Nature
Creates.

We must meditate on this
And make more music.
Listen to our Muses
Then sing, paint, write, sculpt
Or whatever Art
We care
To flow
From our souls.
Amen.

Paul Butters

© PB 1\4\2018.

Tall trees swaying in the breeze
As colourful flowers adorn cool bowers.
Sylvan beauty everywhere,
So good to see, so great to share.
Pastoral pallets, if that makes sense.
Lofty mountains, jungles dense.

Mother Nature reigns Supreme,
But all I want is some ice cream.
Scorching Summers, don’t we love them?
All our troubles, let’s rise above them.

Spoon me some soothing sounds.
Make me swoon though it’s not even June.
Croon beneath the moon
Amongst flowers in bloom.
For summer soon will loom.
Heat will hit us:
Boom!

No more gloom and doom.
See the Peacock’s plume.
Toast the bride and groom.
People passing from womb to tomb.
A Spring-cleaning broom
To clean the room.

What a boon.
A beach with many a dune,
Behind a cool lagoon.
Time to play another soothing tune.

Let dormant corms awaken
In the warm
Before the storm
While insects swarm.

Let babes be born
To fields of corn
In the early morn.

Blow your horn,
Your hair all shorn
Wearing nothing torn or worn.

Such fun to play with words like this.
For me it’s like a blissful kiss.
Not a thing to find remiss,
Or lightly dismiss,
Miss.

Well that’s the end of all my play.
So that will do,
At least for today.

Paul Butters

© PB 27\4\2018.

Deep within the spacial abyss that is my brain
There lies a little blue planet called “Paul”.
Hidden away from most of reality
This world is full of wondrous dreams.

Its drifting continents are full of sporting arenas,
Traditional pubs and inns
And swarms of gorgeous women.
Lofty mountains overlook sandy beaches
Fringed by sun kissed palms.
Endless vistas of hill and dale
Teeming with Life.

There is a Dark Side too:
I have my “Mordor” for sure
And my own Sauron.
Who doesn’t?
Lands full of man eating wasps
Fearful ghouls and witches
And torture chambers
Full of dental equipment.
Giant eyes
And Mirrors
Which take on a life
Of their own.

But let’s focus on the Brightness here:
The music and poetry
And even dance
And romance!
A place where we can “Get Around”
To Beach Boys harmonies,
Rock to Chuck Berry
And enjoy whatever delights Carlsberg can conjure up,
If not a pint of “*****’s Beer”
From Cleethorpes.

Paul Butters

© PB 10\5\2018.

When the monsters gather round
all too ready to devour
I seek safety in the shrinking light
while the danger consumes me whole
I'd rather perish from this place
escaping by means that should not be
than meet the shadows that would consume
certitude of happiness.

Anxieties can hold sway
over souls too hurt to try
bleeding from a thousand cuts
the gaping wounds I now ignore
this greatest laugh of them all
to be a failure in public's eye
is seen less than efforts put
to cleaning up the shattered past.

The bitter pill is swallowed fast
steel barrel put down the throat
marking breaks from monsters round
it's all to sad they'll multiply
celebrating their winning taint
result of my giving up
leaving battles that can't be won
by the survivors left behind.

My escape could be enough
serenity found outside of life
I'll tell myself this greatest lie
while monsters gather I cannot fight
I pretend that I'm OK
anxiety absent on the bright days
this would be true if the sun shown
instead of gloom where I walk.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180510.