Today was a good day,
Not a single tear was shed.

Today was a good day,
That's why I'm wishing I were dead.

The desolate sea beckoning me,
Depression, a mere inevitability.

Dare not lie to me,
My death will be chosen, setting me free.

I rue the day I attempted while crying.
Is it not superior to leave the world smiling?

Today was a good day,
I best get to flying away-

Before my monsters return,
abolishing yet another day...

Death being an opportunity,
Again poached away.

Dear
cup of chai tea,
Oh, how you comfort me
On a rainy day when all is grey
Your warmth and aromas,
Can liberate and free
Cinnamon swirls and vanilla
On my taste buds
You make my senses come alive
Depression and sadness is easily cured
With a warm cup of chai

Its circular face mocks and laughs
at me with that numerical circumference.

Red and black hands reach out and
grab me tight, leaving bruises on my psyche.

I'm helplessly cast deep into my past
where time flows like molasses.

Back when the clocks
took their time
counting down my life
and rotting my mind.

Back when they were slow
and I just couldn't wait to grow
up.

Your thoughts are so off brand
        I can't get them at the grocery store

Ease your way
Into Sunday,
Monday’s here soon enough.
Friday’s best,
Time to rest,
The week was tough.

Boozeday Tuesday is okay
I must say
And Table Tennis Thursday ain’t bad too.
Wednesday’s fish and chips are yummy –
They fill my tummy,
Washed down with a brew.

I love Saturday sport,
Who would have thought
I’d get set in my ways?
Such is my week,
Hardly unique,
But on Sunday I laze.

Paul Butters

Sometimes
I see a picture.
A picture of a woman
in a kitchen.

Her hair is tied back. But sometimes
it’s not.

Sometimes she winks at me.
A knowing
smile and twitch
of an eyelid.
Sometimes.

Sometimes she’s angry.
Drenched
in the sweat of steamed
broccoli and cauliflower.
Sometimes.


Sometimes she’s cleaning.
Scrubbing her kitchen
spotless. Red tomato
sauce and broken
glasses.
Sometimes.

Sometimes she wilts.
Beside the petunias.
Black
and purple.
Blue
and pink.
Sometimes.

Sometimes she’s spilling.
Water flooding
over the counter
top and stuck
to the clotted drain.
Sometimes.

Sometimes she sees me. Usually
not.  Sometimes she smiles. Usually
not. Sometimes I help her. Usually
not: sometimes.