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Paul Butters Oct 5
I’m Autistic Adam.
Sorry for not looking at you.
I cannot stand seeing stares.
Just cannot look.
Sorry too for playing my electric guitar
As you try to talk to me.
But if I didn’t like you
I would have the speaker switched on.

Please don’t talk too long,
As I must have my tea
At seventeen hundred hours:
That’s set in stone.

And then I must attend
To my collection
Of football cards
And memorabilia.

After that I’ll read my maps
And study facts
In peace.

I will not change my schedule!
The mere thought of that
Fills me with dread
And terror.

I cannot come to the party
You have arranged for me.
Just don’t do parties
Or “social events”
Or people

I’m very much the lone wolf,
Which reminds me:
Dogs and other animals
I love
With a passion
And obsession.

Give me a walk with a dog
Any time,
Or a cat to stroke.
But never
Try to make me change
My day
In any way.

Paul Butters

© PB 30\9\2019 (2).
I have some Autistic traits and I have worked with many who were diagnosed with Autism. So creating the fictional chatacter Adam was quite easy.....
Paul Butters Oct 4
We have to talk,
Talk right now
While the time is ripe.

It will be difficult
For both of us,
But we have to grab
The bull by the proverbial horns.

We’ve let things drift,
You and I.
We’re in a rut,
I hear you sigh.

We keep our secrets,
Both of us;
From one another,
There’s the rub.

A relationship stuck
In the mud.
Your loyalty questionable
I have to say.

Sorry if I’m wrong
But I must declare
I’m pretty sure
Your eyes are elsewhere.

I don’t know where to go with this.
If only we could “kiss
And make up” as they say.
But it’s not as easy as that.

We must come clean
With one another,
For what’s a relationship
Without trust
And honesty.

My friend
Just what is going on
Between us?
Or have we reached
The End?

Paul Butters

NB this poem is pure fiction, from my imagination.

© PB 30\9\2019.
It started with just a hook line....
Paul Butters Sep 23
At five in a morning they scavenge about,
Punters at a car boot sale
Searching for bargains with torches.
Why the lights?
Because it’s still dark.
Why dark?
Because it’s SEPTEMBER.

September: the month when the kids go back
To school.
When bowls goes indoors,
Snooker starts;
Cricket draws to a close,
As bad light stops play.
Premiership football into its second month
And Rugby Superleague into the Playoffs.

Telly programmes that have run all summer
Grind to a halt
And Winter TV takes over.
“Question Time” is back
Along with parliament,
Though Boris soon closed it
This year!

The nights get longer,
Minute by minute
And soon those leaves will turn
That lovely golden hue:
Ironically the mark of Death.

Thoughts will soon be turned to Christmas
As we steel ourselves
For another Winter.
Halloween and Bonfire Night
Are coming soon.

This year we have “The Brexit Deadline”,
A new distraction
Drawing our eyes away
From the eternal passage
Of time.

Paul Butters

© PB 23\9\2019.
Autumn Time
Paul Butters Sep 16
The sun shines into my lounge:
Golden reflection
Making me feel good.
I glimpse blue skies
Through front and back

There is something beyond all this.
Something going on.
I sense an atmosphere,
Smell the aroma of
A universal force:
An energy

An all pervading mist
That permeates my life:
A haunting sense
Of spirit.
Something beyond.

We are but tiny chicks,
Covered and warmed
By mother’s wings
Soothed by ethereal music
And songs from heavenly choirs.
Whispers winnowed through those windows
While a hazy sun shines through.

For now I bask
Under the glow
Of that warming orb.
High thin swirling clouds
Tempering the heat.
All is peaceful
And serene today
As life’s long mystery
Drifts on.

Paul Butters

© PB 16\9\2019.
Paul Butters Aug 28
We love our balmy summer days
But you can have too much of a good thing.
The sun can ****
But even in England
It can get oppressive.

Until a storm last night
It was relentlessly hot
Humid and stuffy
Under a sultry sun.
Hard to breathe and
So difficult to sleep.

Now it starts again
As the cloud burns back
So the sun shines bright once more.

They say it won’t last this time
As Atlantic Weather sweeps in from The West.
They’d better be right
For enough is enough.

Paul Butters

© PB 28\8\2019.
UK reord breaking hot summer!
Paul Butters Aug 25
A massive moth outside in the night
Flings itself at
My bathroom window.
Another Icarus
Sorely tempted by the electric light within
My house.

A swooping vulture
It tries again and again,
Fracturing its fragile wings:
Battering itself to exhaustion.

Perhaps it curses some Moth God
And feels a failure in life,
Totally frustrated
At not being able to reach its imperative goal.
Not knowing
That had it succeeded
It would now be

Paul Butters

© PB 25\8\2019.
Yes, I took my annual bath. hehe
Paul Butters Aug 19
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.
Reality where are you???
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