this is where you find us
with our bits of paraphernalia
and our shredded hopes
reclining upon our mad fantasies
this is where you find us
on our windswept bits of  concrete floor
hoping against hope to one day be loud and rich
our affluent mouths enriched with aromatic cigars
this is where you find us,
our women ravaged by the wind
and our children taking whatever we give them
from heaps of misfortune
festering like putrid wounds
on forgotten bits of terrain
along cursed routes that lead to where it all stops
this is where you find us
with our broken teeth and our losses
with our jaded dreams and our hallucinations
this is where you find us, we the deluded many
who were foolish enough to imagine a community
glued by common bonds of former oppression

someday
when i've left this realm
and come back back again
i want to be a tree

you think i jest

but my goal has always been
to stand taller and be more honest
and what could possibly
be more honest
than a cedar
standing tall through all the seasons

his bark is peeling
and his green is prickly
but the birds all light
in the tallest branches
and sing sweet tunes

his roots run deep
and his arms reach wide
i used to think i wanted wings
so i could fly toward heaven
but maybe i'd rather be a tree

because i was bored
disgruntled
impatient
i thought i would
take my mind
off the emergencies of the night
by reaching
down
down
into the furthest reaches
of your poetry stash
thought it might
be a pleasant diversion
and keep my mind
occupied
for a minute or two

it didn't work
i scrolled and scrolled
to get to the beginning
the website bogged down
the server crashed
the electric flickered

no dice

you are more vast than i imagined

my joints have launched
into full scale riot mode

i guess they are jealous
that my sinuses
have had me down and out

i am too old for my age
something
has got to give pretty soon

My Muse takes me to peaceful cool pools,
Under suns and moons.
Exuding stillness through picture-view tunes,
Beneath the sky’s fine glittering crown jewels.

A poem is a statement, a speech or a song,
From twittering birds to the crash of a gong.
Some are short and some are long,
They sound like The Beatles and Louis Armstrong.

A song, a song, we can’t go wrong.
Let it play amongst the throng.
A hit that goes to number one,
To serenade the fit and young.

Those harmonies are with me now.
All I can say is Wow, Wow, Wow.
Songs of Love and chants of Hate,
Words of Hope and tunes of Fate.

Come on you’ve pulled, let’s have a date.
Time for dancing, I just can’t wait.

Paul Butters