Caught the tailend chimes of their laughter pealing through the corridor.
I stopped to listen at the gaiety
without a thought of its source,
simply enjoying echoes
of merriment.
It's contagiousness brought me a smile
gladdened to go unnoticed as a witness
happy to ignore its origin
sometimes it's enough
to know loved ones are enjoying themselves.

We cannot write silence.
The beats.
The pause.
The breath.
The way it aches
and persists

and begs that,

if only for a moment,

our consciousness is only a whisper.
our bodies,
our lips,
the air that passes through falling chests
and stillness.

A melody of emotion.
Sleeping in the quiet of a heartbeat skipped
a word lost to the wind.

The wickedness of reticence
Encapsulated in air and time.

The moment stretched too long.
Hesitation perpetuated in the grip of fingernails
pressed into palms.

We cannot write silence,
but we can try.

to find a way to immortalize emotion
to create space
in the ceaseless drone of words that speak and spin.

I cannot write silence. But I can write
tears and years
and the burn of long-stretched lies.

I can write goodbyes and hellos
And dozen ways to say
I love to hate you
Or
I hate to love you
and sometimes
I cannot tell the difference.
Silence.
The space I have upheld for myself.

I love to hate you
Heart.

I hate to love you too.

I cannot write silence.
But I know it.
and I have held it in my hand.

Always step forward
In order to get somewhere
Have courage and strength
Hopefully, these words are clear
The journey will not be simple
Be willing to take action
Stand on your two feet
And make things happen

The high shining,
Dazzling from the sky.
Hurting the eye with that piercing glare.
Reflecting from sparkling seas
Which shimmer in the gentle breeze.

Reflecting and reflecting
From diamantine spires.
Echoed on the blackest night
By radiant cities
Lit by glimmering lights.

Our Gods hover over us,
Incandescent in their glory.
Their bright wings shimmer and shine,
Inspiring us to greater things.

Yet let us not forget
That all this blazing brilliance
Is everywhere:
Even in those shadow lands
Where ordinary people
Go about their daily grind.

Even though we sit in sheltered rooms
Bathed only by some television light
Or laptop luminescence,
If we but open our inner eyes
We can see
That the world is not as prosaic
As it seems.

Paul Butters

© PB 20\8\2018.

This
Body.

This humanly.
Thing.
It keeps me settled.
In a skin
too tight.
Or is it  simply
Too big?

This thing that takes me through the world.
When i rather
hover over it.
or fly.  

This thing that
Relays information.
I can never
understand.  

I try to make it
understand too.
In miscommunications
It never understands.

This body is a home
i haven't
moved into.
Where i know this is my place.  
But cant unpack my bags.

And its taking
twenty years.
To only
settle in.

I’ve never received a flower
Or even a rose
But I’m a guy
So it’s acceptable I suppose
No kisses
Or sweets
No treats
That signifies ones feelings for me
No token of ones love
But I have gotten
Disappointment
Watered with hate
Planted in betrayal
Fertilized with lies
And maintained by fakes
Roses are Red
But my roses are dead
And crumble beneath my feet