Come with me,
Along this path:
Through the forest,
Towering over us on either side.
Smell the greenery
All around.
Orchestral accompaniment
From countless birds.

Hope you feel engaged
As we stroll along.
And now the pathway branches out!
Six new paths,
Six choices.
Let’s take one.
Off we go.

We risk being lost.
What wonders
Or horrors (!)
Will we find?

The woods **** us in,
Further and further forward.
Punctuated by pesky gnats.
Expect itchy red spots
When you get home.

Onward and onward.
Bees and butterflies.
Sun streaming through the branches up above,
Trees topped by fleecy white clouds.

At last – a clearing!
Can I hear the sea or just a lake?
Or is there a stream nearby?
I see a golden parting of the ways,
A little land beyond forever.
But what do You see???

Paul Butters

I was a Communist kid back in the fifties
And a seventeen-year old Socialist.
The Americans made me laugh even then:
Afraid of “Commies”
When they really meant Soviets.

For me Socialism meant
Equal Shares
And humanitarian Christianity,
With the fall-back of a Welfare State.
All Good.

But as I’ve got older I’ve come to appreciate
The other side of the coin.
Not Fascism as such,
But with Socialism
Where is Aspiration?
Where is the Incentive to do more
And better?

We don’t want a society of clones,
Sitting on their backsides
Living on the dole.

But then again, what should we aspire to?
Should I have aimed to be a mega-rich dictator
Of some parasitic world empire?

I’m all for developing talent to the full,
Encouraging people to make a positive contribution
To the wellbeing of all.

And there’s the rub.
There doesn’t seem to be a political system – yet,
That is just and fair
Whilst helping us all to blossom.

Until we invent something better,
A bubbling cauldron of Socialism and Free Enterprise
Is the best we have to work with.
Unless you know better.

Paul Butters

Oh for a world without wars!
Free of terrorists.
Where each and every one of us
Can go about our daily lives
Without any fear.

But I read somewhere
That there may be a price to pay:
Loss of Freedom.

Think of the USSR, or better still, Yugoslavia.
Ruled by rods of iron
These counties showed us facades
Of calm.

But once those dictatorships disappeared then
Those underlying differences emerged.
The Balkan States were a case in point:
When Yugoslavia went
All hell broke out!

So when I suggested that
A benevolent world government
Might cure our ills,
A warning was shot across my bows:
“Be careful what you wish for!”

For what good is “Peace”
When no one dare speak out
Or act in a “different” way?
“1984” soon springs to mind:
Droves of mindless clones
Dumbed down by drugs
And Media driven hypnosis.
Totalitarianism at its worst.

What we really need is an end to violence
And every other form of Abuse.
Free thought
Married with respect and tolerance
To our fellow men
And women.

World Peace only comes free
When the people are free too.
Freedom of the individual
Based on mutual respect
And better still
On Love.

Paul Butters

Whisky, “The Water of Life”,
******* burning all down my chest.
Opening up my mind to endless imaginations
So I can put the world to rights
Like Superman in his pomp.

Feel that glow,
Spreading like a forest fire.
Feelgood Factor
Fathomless in its depth.

Who cares what peat, in what glens
Or valleys it came from.
Or what precipitation
Bathed those golden barley ears
On Celtic hillsides.

I’ll drink any Whisky,
Single or blend
White oak cask or not.
So long as it gives me that buzz
And blows my mind.
Inspiring the best
Or worst
In me.

Paul Butters

he plays it cool
cool*
cool
cool
so cool

cause he's got
a cogent tool
it can buy him
the desired pool

his money has sway
sway
sway
sway
lots of sway

when it's forked out
everything goes his way
there's a whip-hand
in this style of pay

he plays it cool
cool
cool
cool
so cool  
he plays it cool
cool
cool
cool
so cool

he's not averse to a
huge cash
drop
them inducements
put him right
*on top

Smooth pools lull me to slumber.
Tinkling streams play musical tunes
Under sun or moon.
Red sunsets and dawns warm my soul
As birdsong accompanies that sweet
Smell of mowed-lawn grass.

No better time to Celebrate
The Joys of Life.
Let’s celebrate celestial sentience,
Whatever that might be.
Let’s party, laugh and smile.

Paul Butters