An app for this
An app for that
An app even,
To feed your cat.

Mesmerised by mobiles
All these zombies shuffle along
Nearly getting run over
So internet throng.

Scanning with their debit cards
No time for cash
But I don’t trust these things
With their laser flash.

All this social media
Where is it going?
So much information
Toing and froing.

Good to keep in touch
And so easy to Google
Want to make a noise?
It’s better than a bugle.

Better check in on Facebook
So you all know where I am
Time to check my emails
To bin the latest scam.

But whatever happened to talking?
It’s now a forgotten art!
The cyber revolution:
This is just the start.

Paul Butters

© PB 19\3\22.

Writing something
Isn't the same as living it
And so I stopped writing

For the first time ever
I want time to slow down
I want it to gently whisk us along
And I don't want to think  
For me
You'll always be the most beautiful person in any room
No matter that you're already mine
I'll still want win your heart
Over and over again
And relish every moment
Of every future
That belongs to us

Lady in my dream
Intriguing and delightful
You’re my dream come true
For sure

I laid here bare
In wonderment
In awe of your allure
Beautiful and captivating
Indeed, You’re

Even in my sleep
You bring a smile to my face

And
Suddenly
Against the grandeur
Of the calm sky

Slowly you turned
And gazed into my soul

I paused
And took a deep breath

For
Even in my sleep
Your presence was
More than enough
To take my breath away

She walked with yellowed eyes into the night of a Halloween
and the Moon was silenced in its hour by the sights that it had seen
the gipsy queen was strumming on a harlequin guitar as
the soldier boy wrote home saying, this war's gone too far,

I was writing, writing in my soul, digging deeper down into the role, the audience was shouting for some more as the dream flicked out and slammed the door,  
but all the same, know what I mean?
what's real is nothing but the dream.

why does the cat get all the cream
where did that come from?

I want an Olive and some olive oil
someone shouts, she's Popeye's Goil

oh god, it doesn't get any better,

If it was Tuesday
Wimpy would pay me
for six hamburgers
but it's Wednesday and
he's back on the cadge,
( do people say, cadge, anymore?

can't get over 'goil'
do they really say 'girl' like that in the states?

I suppose it takes all sorts and there's certainly
allsorts in a box of Allsorts.