I've had a better life
Than a squirrel.
Ask anybody.
But looking out,
I'm envious of that
Mite invested, bushy-tailed one,
Fleeing up my tree.

The inevitables of life have really been getting to me lately
I didn't know her very well but
She died and... it made me question my entire being
It really really bugs me.
I couldn't even cry and still can't and that bugs me even more
Now I don't even know what I want anymore
and I have this impending doom  creeping in my chest
 "The world could end tomorrow and I have wasted my life"
kind of doom.
Now I am a third the way through it
And I can't go back
More likely half

The underwater explorer,
a man on the moon,
the world saving scientist,
love...children
And that's it.
Dreams are just that.
until they die or are killed by
someone elses dream
And I'm sitting here watching my closest friends go through it
Every stage from young until old
Realizing that I have been staring into a mirror
my entire life

Locked in a box made of societal issues so thick I can't hear the people screaming at me
"Your life is a lie and so is mine!"

The dread is overwhelming
That IS the wisdom.
One simple problem one simple answer
It all ends the same
No one ever gets young
And we all think there is plenty of time.

how dare you
discriminate against
those who have
escaped their death
and fought their way
to our land

how dare you
ridicule their pain and suffering
their loss and incapacity

HOW DARE YOU!!!

I shouldn't be up this late
I have work in the morning
I hate my boss
I hate my job
I'd quit if I didn't need the money
But I can't stop the drinking
And I can't shake the feeling
Of you on my lips
I'm cursed forever
With the taste of your kiss
And your hands on my hips

I need someoone to help
Did I tell you I'm drinking
I hate this taste
I say hate too much
Is that why you left me lonely
But I can't stop the drinking
And I can't shake the feeling
Of being alone
I'll guess I'll get use to this
Or at least try
  
Everything feels so strange
And I know I am up too late
But
I'm smoking the buds of your cigarettes
Just to be where your lips have been
I'm only doing this all because I think that I need it
It's as close as I can get to you

Yeah as close as I can get
(As close as I'll ever be)
As close I can get to you

I'm smoking the buds of your cigarettes
The ones you left in the ash tray
During our last conversation
I'm wearing your t shirts
I'm listening to your favorite mix tape
I'm only doing this all because I think that I need it
It's as close as I can get to you

They talked about him as the one
who none had ever seen smile.

You couldn't gauge
if he was happy or depressed
no emoji could describe
the repressed expression
but all said
he was dutiful.

Caring husband and father
responsible family head
silent bread earner.

His constant arrangement made sure
the home was neatly organized
not one object was out of place
and but for the children
it would have been hard to guess
if he ever met his wife privately
summing up him to be named
robot
and the belief in his name was strong.

When his wife died
he wailed so loud
it could be heard beyond town.

To the neighbors,
it was mechanical breakdown.

I walk to the pub or club,
Talk with folks,
Go play table tennis
Or shop.
But apart from all that chat,
Where do I get my “World View”?

How do I know what’s going on
Outside my little comfort zone?
I could even be another Jim Carrey
In some “Truman Show”,
Being filmed for some TV soap
That I’ve never seen
By Big Brother cameras everywhere;
Feeding off fake news
About the universe outside.

For everything we “know”
Comes from TV
And our mobiles
And PCs.

It could all be as false
As Trump says it is,
If he really exists!!!
Where is the Truth?

Will a No Deal Brexit be a catastrophe
Or a breeze in the park?
Are our “Enemies” really in the wrong?
Is the wider world anything like
It’s painted
On TV???

The con men, and women
Probably have us
In their pockets.
So all we can do
Is be as vigilant
As we can
And hope
That true Reality
Will be detected
At last.

Paul Butters

© PB 19\8\2019.

My pen is dripping
from my heart and soul,
hoping to grow
a bit more beautiful
each day.

I think love is what we need in the world.
We needed it so badly we created it. Then we fought over it. And we corrupted it. It even became a disease. Until we found it had a medicinal effect. It could heal.

Love seeps into the ground where we bury it. The decay leaves traces of it. So is love also in death? Love is powerful indeed.

If love can find its way in life and death, it must not be mortal like us. Perhaps we can call it Divine. It must be what we see when we look up to the sky.

That’s why we describe it in so many ways. It flows like the blood in our veins. And when we no longer have the strength in our heart, it becomes the soul of our own.

She tried to give
the door a knock,
She took a chance
to see if it would unlock.
Turns out,
she didn't​ have the key
to set him free.