For the girls tattooed as one.

I’m traveling north: beyond the sky.
above the horizon, bleak as the night.  
I’ll sail amongst the stars,
splashing about in their dust to heal these scars.

I’m traveling north: to escape fate
like moths to flames, I am to blame.
I’ll burn my deathbed atop Jupiter’s clouds,
floating flames of pyres igniting my soul.

I’m traveling north: to preach the testament
of a girl abused as a child. Reasons, she’ll never know.
I’m traveling north: because of the forgotten warrior:
a guardian bruised, stolen from humanity & abandoned to fight for sanity.

I’m traveling north: upon the waves of a lion’s roar,
the tide of the mighty echo, the righteous, the torn.
I’m traveling north diving overboard,
cursing the man who sought my freedom for a greater reward.  

I’m traveling north: to visit Abigail’s soul,
to skip and share secrets with a girl I once shared a home with.  
I’m traveling, traveling, traveling
traveling, traveling, traveling.

A nomad in search of gold.

Along an unknown path
Distant from the place you call home
Voices summon you in the distance
Edging you to claim your destiny
New legends unfold and lessons learned while
Traveling to new lands
Under the strings of fate
Reach out to that light within and
E**scape through your dreams to release your inner self

Angry knots in the joints of my hands
My fists clenching and unclenching
I am not comfortable in this skin
Everything is so loud, so harsh to me,
The creak of the table, the chewing of gum
The tap tap tap of drumming fingers
I can feel lightning in my veins
Crackling and snapping, it is violent
I want to block everything out
I want it to blur at the edges of myself
And disappear somewhere quiet
Somewhere my skin isn't a cage
And my mind isn't an enemy
I need the lull of the sea on a hot day
And the embrace of the waves
As I sink.

In every “Poetry Place”
There is a Copycat Corner.
We know it’s a disgrace
So here’s another “Warner”.

Why they do it I’ll never know,
Those Copier and Pasters.
Their words they seem to glow,
But they’re a bunch of Wasters.

Taking all that praise,
For stuff they haven’t written,
It seems to be a craze,
And many do get bitten.

Just Google their “fine words” or use those plagiarism sites,
And you will find the original poems
Bedecked with copyrights.

I’m sure this place just isn’t free
Of people like this,
Just look and see!!!

The Admins must get their fingers out,
And give these villainous rogues a massive clout.
Me, I will show all due diligence,
But my job here,
Is to show My brilliance.
(NOT someone else’s!).

Paul Butters

I have become the ocean of bad ideas and halfhearted attempts that laps at your shores and beckons for you to come and get your feet wet, wading in the tides. Won’t you come in for a swim? My sharks don’t bite much, unless they’re angry and the jellyfish aren’t poisonous until they find you naked and exposed. My surging waves surround the tiny island of your reason and become all that you see because I’m all you’re looking for at this moment...you’ve blinded yourself to better opportunities…I am the truth you won’t face or find out about until later. You know what I’m talking about lady. I’m the tattooed “Bad Boy” sitting across from you, the one who excites you. The one you can’t take your eyes away from long enough to see the “Good Guy” sitting in the corner.

You’re exactly like the moon
With all its different phases
The moon that’s tattooed on your forearm
The moon that’s covering your paintings
And just like the moon
You are bold and apparent
With certainly nothing to hide

But although you’re this way
You’re still so far away
To truly understand you up close

So I lie awake sleepless
Because the moon’s made of secrets
As it sits alone in the sky

And now you’re waning and whining
You’re fading, you’re dying
As the sun tries to take over the show

Glowing palely, you shine
As you live for the nightlife
You’re high and you’re faded again

We moondance
We’re kissing
By daytime you’re missing
The light breaks the morning horizon

So by the light of the moon
I’ll see you soon
Living at night because you’re a beautiful sight
But by the time I see light  
I’m just another admirer with drowsy eyes

there was a boy
who tattooed my heart
on his finger in green
when he was drunk
and we were both lonely
but when we grew sober
he decided my eyes were
too sad to look at
and my heart
too heavy to love
but my heart remains
on the inside of his finger
and he is left
with all the memories
and mistakes

I find the tattoos on other people fascinating.
They all speak to me,
Each one with their own story.

The compass tattooed on a shoulder blade.
It tells the story of the teenage boy,
The one who fell so effortlessly in love,
The one who lost himself in another's company,
Then had to find himself and his own way without her.

The lightning bolt tattooed on a young girl's foot.
It speaks of the late night thunderstorms,
The ones spent with a boy who was her world,
The boy with the thunderstorms raging inside of him,
Who ended his life much too soon.

The anchor tattooed on a teen mom's heel.
It reminds the young mother to stay grounded,
To keep the drug abuse in her past,
To stay away from the alcohol,
If only for her daughter.

The rocketship and the moon tattooed on his fingers.
It brings back memories of a little boy,
The man's little brother,
The one who he'd fly to the moon and back for,
That became his priority when his father left them.

The music notes making their way around her wrist.
They tell the story of her teenage years,
The years filled with fighting parents,
The years where her only companion was music,
That in a way saved her life.