The sea has gone to sleep:
Become a mirror of the sky.
Lapping onto the land
With subtle churnings.

It’s a brightly sunny day,
Uplifting the spirits.
Hardly a hint of breeze
As the tide creeps out.

I slumber in the languidness of *****’s beer.
All angst buried as I settle down to sleep.
That mighty, massive ocean is so still now.
Its monsters have been well and truly put to bed.

Blue sky
With lightly painted clouds upon the horizon.
My porch is warm today
In the golden sun.

Paul Butters

Arnold my dearest friend was 82
his soul has made a transition
through sands and vast oceans
to another dimensional paradise
he was chatty and I quiet
he was white and I black
he was old and I young
he was a man and I a woman
bonded with zest and humour

Arnold was strict and perfect
we met at local debating club
where we polished speeches
the little gems of impromptu
and the daunted evaluations
charming and complimentary
with an adventurous heart
and the pleasing easy spirit
of playfulness and success

Arnold and his plentiful gang
of competitive read speakers
always told me to slow down
I was a post-graduate trainee
wanting to brush my confidence
way back then when I stumbled
on that working men club
in the company of grey hairs
organised in eventful committees

Arnold saw roles changed
when after five long years
I was an elected president
the transformation of time
following radio interviews
back then when career drove
the foundations of many blocks
of habitual repetition and sweat
of sifting grime from the fire

Arnold always warmed up to me
kissed me on the  rosy cheek
he changed cars like clothes
and loved his dearly wife to bits
he has left a scent around my life
of a hope to love and build family
an ardent piano player and traveller
no wonder that church was so full
abundant with fond memories

Rise!* Oh, Mighty Jupiter;
Our Father now forgotten.
Come claim your rightful reverence.
Your pagan pedigree misgotten.

You were once our Shining Father;
Great King of all the Sky.
But you allowed your world to set
so a new Son could arise.

Zeus once ruled before you, and
Jesus became your heir.
Today not many realize
how we got from here to there.

I have considered for some moments
how our thoughts of god do change.
Plural notions of so long ago,
today can seem so strange.

We like to think we've come so far,
since those pagan days of yore.
Have we abandoned superstition
or just embraced it even more?

It was millennia ago
that Zeus ruled Mount Olympus.
He, their leader, more than father,
often beaten by hubris.

The Greeks, they worshiped leaders,
seeking standing in this forum.
Such desires, democratic
became their gods that ruled before them.

As the centuries moved on,
your new Latin home was Roma.
Your title too, transformed
to reflect a new persona.

To Zeus we added "Father",
or in Latin, pater, we prefer.
So Zeus, becomes Zeus-pater,
Zupater, then Jupiter.

Our names for gods reveal
exactly how they fill our needs.
Over time our needs evolve
and so a new name supersedes.

As Rome aged, it developed  
a need to know god as a man.
To be one of his number.
To see themselves as of his clan.

This zeus, he can be talked to,
can be greeted and be known.
They "Hail Zeus" as HeyZeus.
And now its Jesus on the Throne.

Through such inquests we can see
the needs Gods fill evolving,
from cold, covetous Kings
to a begotten Son absolving.

We imagine in the Heavens
things to help us understand,
how a universe so endless
can be the realm alone of man.

From nation to nation
All around the world
The Ruling Class
Though many times outnumbered
By the rest
Sit bathing in the sun
In their Ivory Towers:
Born to Richness
Whilst millions of Poor
Just starve to death.

Hordes and hordes of people,
Without clean water
Or food
Or a stable roof over their heads.
No medicine, or Education, or Anything
That Costs.

Governments give “Aid” to other governments
To “feed the poor”,
But we all know what happens…

What we need is a “Government of The World”,
Or some Benevolent Despot to Rule us all.
Anything must be better
Than the impotent UN
Or these shambolic “nations” –
Puppets of Globalisation.

Revolution threatens –
It often does –
Until the rulers appease us
With token concessions
And brainwash us
Though The Media,
So called “Education”
And Religious Dogma.

When will we learn?
Where is Democracy and Love?
But, bound by Political Correctness,
Woe betide if we Complain.
The Cold War continues,
So all we can do
Is soldier on
For The Common Good.

Paul Butters

The generations rumble on,
I know no reason why.
We build our countless tower-blocks,
Reaching to the sky.

Jacob is our newest one.
He’s only two years old.
Who knows what things he’s going to see?
Great nephew who’ll have…great stories to be told.

We saw men land upon The Moon,
For him it will be Mars.
His kids may go much further,
Even to the Stars.

He’s such a cheery chappie,
Chapman his mum’s maiden name!
I hope he will stay cheerful,
Though Life’s a funny old game.

I hope the world gets better,
For him and all his peers.
I’m sure he’ll be a pacesetter,
And not too many tears.

So here’s to futures bright,
For Jacob and the rest.
May there always be plenty of light,
Let’s wish them all the best.

Paul Butters