she gave me her nudes
she was bare
and naked
and so out
and open
and i willingly
accepted it
because it wasnt the nudes
that showed her body
the physical aspects
that made her beautiful
it was the words
she didnt choose
and the spontaneity
that left her
either from her lips
or her fingers
or ink

she was as bare
as her nudes
and i accepted
her for her.

I saw my first lesbians when I was 6.
She was short with spiky hair,
She was tall with curly hair.
They held each other tenderly,
Floating blissfully in the swimming pool,
Absorbed in each other and unaware of

The shaking head of my father
And his outstretched arm
As he shielded his children from the happy couple.

When I was little, I held weddings for my Barbie dolls
And I couldn’t understand why my parents made me stop.
It wasn’t until they bought me a shiny new Ken doll
That the weddings could start again.

A few months ago
Mum discovered her friends were lesbians
And I beheld in her eyes the mixture of wonder and disgust.
Wild-eyed recounts of intrusions on quiet embraces
And the fear of the unknown heavy in every word.

How disappointed they would be now!
To know that I dream of my head between a woman’s thighs.
That I remember with fondness
The feminine lips that have pressed against mine.

I am what you fear.
The hell-bound filthy sinner
Bent on destruction and lust.
Sneaking into your society, poisoning your children.
I am the monster you hate, the wretch you pity.

But maybe you would understand
If you saw how sweet this ******* is.
If you knew how it feels
To see sweet contentment and bliss
In the arms of a woman.

‌‌  ‌
We're here
We have something like
Sixty years
To know each other
                      and to spend time together
To share laughter
To hug and cuddle
To smile
To cry
To grow up together
To learn
To recieve sun rays on our skin
                                and to drink wine
To stroll the cobblestone
To smell, see, touch, hear,
             feel
To walk
To breathe
To ride a bike
To feel tired, hungry, cheerful
To talk
To observe leaves on some
windy autumn day
To connect.
And then one day
one of us will leave this place
Empty shell of body
Like robot machine
who ran out of power,
   and shut off.
Blank, grey & hollow
Once filled with soul
That cheered and laughed and loved
Now we won't meet
for eternity
I will never get you back, ever.
And then the other one
will die
And then the Earth will die
and all of these atoms
once filled with all these stories,
life, love, meaning, hopes, thoughts,
will stray the cold, empty,
silent endless void
For eternity
And to think that we were there together
in this place & time
That we laughed, together,
kissed
Cried and missed
Held hands
Walked & planned
Ate food and drank
Looked into each other's eyes


We won't see each other for eternity.

This muggy, sultry sun is no fun:
Longest sustained heatwave for over forty years.
Suffocating Sahara with Death Valley cracks
In the dry arid soil.

My electric fan shattered with a power surge
Into fragmented plastic shards.
I so miss it now.
It’s oppressively tropical,
With volcanic heat
And Pressure bearing down on us.
The clammy mugginess of a sauna.
Not the clean dry air you find abroad,
Yet still that remorseless torrid scorching,
Roasting and toasting.
Just too much.

Hot air clothed in humid moisture,
Stuffy and sweaty,
Steaming to a haze
And later
Thunder storms.

I long for a cool brew
To freeze my throat
And quench my raging thirst:
Ice cool, ice cool, ice cool.
I’m sure not talking
Of tea.

Paul Butters

© PB 6\8\2018.

Some died in the Spring;
and some by the river, deep
in Winter beneath a bridge.
Some died alone by a tree
behind a repossessed house;
and some with their cats
at home, quiet as a mouse.
Some died reading bills
that come in the mail;
and some reading the part
number, reaching for a fan
belt hanging on a nail.
Some died with a flyswatter
in hand, toilet paper in a screen
door, dead flies on the floor;
and some like heat lightning,
fast as a sick baby’s breath.
Some died without a warm, caring
woman’s hand on a forehead;
and some sharing a last cigarette.
She, my old lover who loved danger,
died on the side of the road
in the arms of a stranger.