Let me inspire you to go higher:
Lost among the stars.
Our universe glitters, spread across the sky.
The world keeps turning,
Resplendent with hills and mountains,
Dales and plains.
Continents surrounded with seas and oceans
And clothed by grass and trees.

Mother Earth is blessed with flora and fauna:
Sentient beings of every shape and size,
From mighty whales and elephants,
Through furry friends like dogs and cats,
Tall giraffes, slithery snails, right down
To scattering ants and pesky flies.

Smell that fresh sea breeze,
Hear those rolling waves,
Screams of gulls
And twittering sparrows.
Feel the warm moist air
Of an Indian Summer.

Be mindful of all that is around,
Yet let imagination wonder,
For out there
There is more
So much more.

Dark Monsters of The Id
Are out there too,
We all know that.

But Life in all its splendour
And determination
Is there for all to see.
Oh to live forever with such things.

Paul Butters

© PB 16\10\2018.

Donald Trump
Is no chump.
Makes America rich,
Without any hitch.

Says what he thinks,
And never even blinks.
Kowtows to no-one:
Just gets the job done.

Paul Butters

© PB 15\10\2018.

Donald Trump
Sure packs a thump.
For America First
He does his worst.

Paul Butters

© PB 8\10\2018.

Season of mists and back to school,
Ruddy browns and falling leaves.
The onset of winter, oh so cruel,
As birds abandon sheltering eaves.

Sometimes you con us with an Indian Summer,
Mocking the end of the holiday season.
But shorter days are still a ******:
To celebrate I see no reason.

You hang around on your mobile phone,
Looking like you’re really weary.
Those birds to Africa have all flown,
Leaving us feeling only dreary.

Where are those summery Beach Boys songs?
Forget them all some say.
Those lovely colours right all wrongs:
The festive season is on it’s way.

For this is the annual Twilight Zone,
The evening of the year.
A time when many a seed is sown
Ready for Spring to appear.

Paul Butters

© PB 5\10\2018.

Back in my teenage college years
I was told about “Autistic kids”
Who lived in worlds of their own,
Seeing things through weird and wonderful specs
In social isolation,
Frightening in its completeness.

At sixty six I since have learned about many
Of their “traits”:
Their obsessions, inflexible routines and
Panic
At all change.
Their inability to read
Emotions or social cues
Or innuendos
Or irony.

I have worked with those with Aspergers,
Colleagues, friends and clients –
Indeed with people all over
The Autistic Spectrum.

And the main thing I have learned
In all these years
Is that in my own way…
I am one of them.

Paul Butters

© PB 1\10\2018.

When I sleep and dream
All laws of Physics go right out of the window.
At once
I’m in a room
Yet out in the open streets.

Turn my back on the house
And it is gone
No matter where I search.

There is Mum and Dad
And many more
No longer with us now.

Sometimes I recall they are dead
And ask them of their afterlife
But their answers make no sense.

At other times
People change from one to another
Or even morph into objects
Or animals
Or anything.

While dreaming
Stories and memories pop into my head
Often false
From nowhere.

I set out to do something
Only to get frustrated and lost.
Stress dreams just before I wake.
Dreams of jobs I hated
And piles of paperwork.

Dreams of the past, present and future.
No Tardis required.
All space and time
Thrown together
In the whirlwinds of my mind.

Yet the good news is
That sometimes I can fly.

Paul Butters

© PB 17\9\2018.

My short term mem
My short
My
M

Paul Butters

© PB 10\9\2018.