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Butch Decatoria May 2021
"why not enjoy the Go?"

"It was like getting **** on."
"The **** that comes out of some mouths, i swear..."

"Don't you touch that ****. You get hooked on that ****. "

" At a hundred dollars a plate, that **** better be delicious"

" ****'s better on paper. "

" What's all this **** about? Who did that ****?! "

" This is my ****, get your own ****. "

" Yours smells like everyone else's ****,  it ain't roses. "

" Bury the sticky ****. "

" That **** hurt, but once you're numb you can't feel ****"
Butch Decatoria May 2021
Love is the Phoenix, Perfect Present Tense, direwolf & perigren falcon, Ra to Baste. Sun to Moon.
The universe in you.
Butch Decatoria May 2021
Poetry is the colorful way we celebrate love, the vibrant joy that is felt through music, our lungs full of song, our life's choreography. Poetry is the motion of our hearts & souls, how love moves within & without us; how brilliantly life dances, how poetry breathes the colors of us -- vividly uniquely human/poetry.
We are poetry, poetry is love.
Butch Decatoria May 2021
PAST LIFE

Palms read at a Psychic Eye,
Queries for her tarot cards
A youth full of doubt asks why
Who was I
In the chaos
far long gone,
Before this breath fast / Falls to sleep.
From dreamy wish to bones
Six feet deep...past life of one
Mr. Nobody,
Graduation Class of ‘93.
Who was he before?
Doubt the fortunes could tell us more
That Old ghost inside this shell...
As she Unveils dark curtains
Her many wares to sell...

  “Once you were a shaman,” she says
To her mark she barks
“Before the white men came“

From not that far
The wild untamed
Such heights
Native son, you will light
The ways made dark
Though this feels like a hollowed heart,
Pause then / when
She begins to sob
Feelings / wars inside
(not lost)
Just a small spark of light
At nightly cross
Until our ends
Space/time is a canvas
To only behold
What was now
Fast awake
Like stars that guide
Ships of old, arrive as new
life.
Who knows...

“Once that shaman was you...”
Who knew you
Were then
Back when
Before our human birth
Returns to the earth,
A life of dirt without worth
Oh how human it is to hurt
See the light
Beyond the wealth or power
Of church.
Look outside there is life
Past future
Gift.

Live.
Rebirth.
Butch Decatoria May 2021
Alone


Unfolding...

I am mourning before the dawn
unveiling
crumpled bedspread sheets
a hollow space
where comfort once found
your slumber deep,
I find an echo
of your breath
as my tears interrupt
a yawn / a stretch

while trust feels like a home
invasion,
a **** save for the flesh...

I am a trail of moisture
upon the cheeks, the searching
throughout a graveyard home
yielding empty halls,
bleak,
of no fruition / a tomb;

I am the ache within
Darkly,
My harsh and sordid
imagination / disambiguations
roaming
To thoughts of you
in someone else's fever
a slicing cut that opens
and equals that pain

unleashing avalanche of blood
but it's only a crimson thought
which floods,
again & again...

I’m in that home, now
kept unkempt
like the dust on portraits’
sepia gloom… and
the sound of bare feet
clapping
hardest upon wooden floors

In a saloon
lacking conversations
without a care taken
of why / from where / or whom

I once had strength
which waned
Like the more ocean waves
punch the cliffs and shore,
my reserves began again to drain.
I collapse into bed
On pillows, I lay.

I am the hope which wants
what lived once before
Loud out-cries' / begets prayers
to ancestral sky
fearful hearts and minds
life alive yet
Afraid
to die….in due
Time
            I am a tomorrow of love yet made
inept of any trust
I have been blind told to break...
            (My iron will to rust)
I am alone
since gone are the yesterdays
you romanced such secrets
with escapades
(grinders found in spades)
I am the hush that must escape

never getting to know
the calligraphy & the colors,
all the facets of love's very face,

unfeeling
replaced
I am a violin
from some distant space,
far and away
a wish
a yearning
as California’s burning

Asking kindly

Love me
if only
for the sake of today
for I am
lonely...
for I am the light
each night

unfolding...
Namaste goddesse.
Peace be, Love.
Butch Decatoria May 2021
White ***** with no teeth,
Says she's hustlin' like it's work.
Junkies lie and steal.
Butch Decatoria May 2021
"*******!"

"If you ain't fixing to ****, get off the ***"

"****-head"

"Take a whiff,  cuz I'm the ****"

"Eat **** and die, *******! "

"what kind of **** are you trying to pull? "

" **** for brains"

" That's the kind of **** that'll **** up your ****. "
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