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Paul Butters Feb 2018
Mike Bee
Likes a fast read.
The End.

Paul Butters

© PB 1\2\2018 (2).
I've bowed to market "demand" here. lol
  Feb 2018 Paul Butters
Ricki
What is a poet if not a victim?
For he seems to be the only exception to a world of goodness.
Oh, what better way to depict him, than his own victimization?
What is a poet if not a child?
Granted, some are aged, but they all whine.
What is a poet if not broken?
He does mention his glass shards on the frequent.
Do keep in mind that he will never be doing fine.
What is a poet if not psychotic?
For him and all his kind appear to be mad.
What is a poet if not sad?
Spoiled minds of the depressed kind truly are poetic.
What is a poet if not contradictive?
For him, it's quite addictive.
What is a poet if not guilty?
For he may not always have the ability to plea innocent and play the victim.
What is a poet if not old?
Granted, some are young, but they're all wise.
What is a poet if not whole?
He is full of courage, he is bold.
So tell me, how is he not whole?
What is a poet if not sane?
Sure, he may be vain and a little odd, but he does write with utter sanity.
What is a poet if not glad?
He writes of love and purple lips.
Though his happiness may dip, he truly is a joyous soul.
What is a poet if not a fool?
He does accuse and misconstrue.
What is a poet if not a man, just like me and you?
trees lose bark covers
like a brown snake shedding skin
to reveal new coats
an all consuming love*
took hold of the narcissist
his great admiration for self
was the everlasting gist

in front of the mirror he stood
kissing his own reflection
whilst at it saying I'm so deserving
of my steadfast affection

yes he was absorbed
in a love profound of pond
this being the love he'd
keep fervently fond

no one else could love him
with such a richness of care
cause he was unable to
empathetically share

the love he did bear inside
his indulgent infantile heart
would never be completely
*cleaved apart
Paul Butters Feb 2018
Ease your way into the day.
Don’t be in a rush.
Enjoy the sight of the sun’s bright ray
On the green of the grass so lush.

Let yourself so slowly awake,
In the early morning hush.
Be as cool as a languid lake,
As dawn begins with a blush.

There’s plenty of time to earn your pay,
So easy on that brush.
Hours of time for making hay
And your enemies to crush.

Hard work is over rated, I really have to say,
But intelligence is a must.
Using talent is the way
To earn yourself a crust.

So start out steady, as I said,
And don’t be rushing from your bed.

Paul Butters

© PB 1\2\2018.
The first line kept popping into my head so.......
Paul Butters Jan 2018
Those eyes
So sad
So loving, loyal and true.
Who can resist that look
From a dog?

Best family member
Of the animal kind.
So devoted to his Mum and Dad
And even uncle.

No fickleness here:
Unflinchingly faithful.
Loving to run and fetch
For his master or mistress.
Even bring in the ‘paper.

See him jump for joy
As you grab the lead
That he’s brought you.
It’s “That time”…

If you let him,
He’ll lick you all over
Before rolling on his back
For a belly rub.
(And his Missus is just the same)!

But those eyes have it:
Bottomlessly sad
So you just have to give him
Strokes and cuddles.

Paul Butters

© PB 21\1\2018.
Inspired by Stacy's dog Vinnie. Another one for Dog Lovers such as Pat Jackson, Stacy Taylor Prev Crossley, Alecia Bamford, Jane Chaplin, Jo Edwards, Joan Priestley...
Paul Butters Jan 2018
Enjoy your cuppa tea and coffee.
Sit back and relax.
The world is full of strife and corruption:
Untold Evil.
Yet it’s Paradise Earth.

We take for granted
Our timeless oceans,
Mountains and plains
Teeming with Life:
Forests and savannahs
Herds of Wildebeest
And prides of Lions.

Quaff that beer and lager,
Let your Whisky burn your breast.
See those panoramic views
On your television.
Get your mobile out
And check what’s going on
In Social Media Land.

Wallow in a bar of chocolate
And dream of stroking dogs and cats.
Indulge in Romantic Fantasy,
If you know what I mean,
And be mindful of everything
That gives you joy.

Make Life a Celebration:
Party Time,
Full of sporting
Laps of Honour
And harmonious choirs.

Smell that cooking:
Roasts, fries, breads and cakes.
Taste it in your mind.
To the sound of birdsong
And Eric Clapton.

After all,
You only live once.

Paul Butters

© PB 14\1\2018.
Let's brighten things up a bit.
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