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 Mar 2016 Paul Butters
Wanderer
Snow
 Mar 2016 Paul Butters
Wanderer
Glitter falls from pregnant clouds
Giving birth to light amidst midnight
January blooms ice tipped, gorgeous
The face of silver moon on dark landscape
Painting the lily black
Tainted by the mist of my heart
It cripples and dies
Surrender to hatred
Compassion I lack
An urge to tear something apart
Resting in human cries
It smothers my hatred
As a wolf running with the pack
Acceleration burns my heart
Upset by your twisted lies
They are fueling my hatred
I can see in my mind
a world that is kind
an existence so refined

I can see the design
which is hiding behind
the confused rhythm and rhyme

It can't be too hard to find
if I just follow the sign
and let it lead me to define

I know I can appear blind
and occasionally opine
for past days in the sunshine

I'm sure I can stop
and rewind,
remembering that
LOVE is the bind

It can't be too hard to mend
It takes so much to pretend
I'd rather we all just be friends
Living in a world of no amends
I have had sorrow
I had pain
I have been locked out in the rain
I had stuff happen in life that's hard to explain
I have been knocked down and felt like giving up
Like a comedian once said " life happens when you make other plans"
That statement seems to speak some truth.
Life sure has not turned out the way I have wished
That is why I must persist

When I have planned for sunshine
I have gotten rain
Planned to be happy ever after
only to discover pain
Through it all I have gotten stronger ( I think)
Life is a work in progress it is not finished yet
Life happens but I must persist

I know what it is like to be hungry
or well fed ( think thanksgivings past)
Those are cherished memories
sure to last
I have found
There is more joy in being content
than in wishing for what I don't have
If I have somewhere to rest
or some food to eat
man, that is pretty neat

Some day's I feel weary or pretty beat
I may not get want I want
But it is a blessing to get what I need
Like family that I love
and a few close friends
on whom I can depend
When I think about that my live seems pretty full
I than feel more complete and whole
Let life happen if it takes it's toll
I will fight off worry
It can not add a day to my life
Or add more hair to my head
  I would prefer not to have troubled
thoughts when I retire to bed
Life can be worth living
That is why I must persist!
There lives a woman who
Seems mystical, even mythical
--It is true--
Because she is biblical;
Rarer than a precious jewel.

She is virtuous
She is loyal
She is courteous...

She is royal.

She shines brilliantly, like a star cluster trapped inside a room.
She glistens like jubilant sun rays dancing atop the ocean.
The wind of her voice sets inspiration in motion,
Like a sonic boom.

She is powerful.

She is virtuous,
Who is worthy? Just
Wonder & coil
In a corner & toil
As you ponder this.
And honor this
Acknowledgment,

Because she is royal.

Don't dare compare her to the likes of
Nefertiti or Isis.
They are not so estimable,
You couldn't buy her even with a million zeros before the decimal,
Because...

She is priceless.

So the King adorned her,
Because the King adores her.

She is beautiful, so they say,
But such a meager word could not suffice,
Because her true charm emanates like waves
In the ardent expression of her practice of life.
And from her mind and her soul.
Her precious heart--more precious than gold--
Looks like a kaleidoscope of rare gems,
Darting dazzling colors; the spectrum in whole.

Diamonds die in comparison,
Hand her a diadem...

She is special
She is jovial
She is gentle

She is royal.

She is not haughty,
Nor does she flaunt like worldly wenches do.
She tells girls who've been told they're peasants they can be a princess too.
She is not naughty,
Nor does she taunt like wanton vixens do...

Because she is godly.

Yes, indeed there lives a woman who
Seems mystical, even mythical
--But it is true--

She is virtuous,

She is royal...

She is you.
Written for a woman I adore. Not my wife or girlfriend or anything like that. Just someone I knew.
 Feb 2016 Paul Butters
irinia
poetry
a blue snake
stretches from one to the other
it breaks the shop window
it coils insiduously
around those driven
from the street into the house

it binds hands and learns to cry
the utterance at the service of power
don't throw the mantle of clouds
off my shoulders
remember
in the beginning was the word
in the last night
distorted

eventually
there remains poetry insinuated
like a blue snake
into the cup full of tears

Carmen Firan
*translated by Andrei Bantas
Living under a bridge, cold and need of a bath. Once a sergeant in an elite command, now invisible to the masses. Sitting on a park bench wrapped in a shawl, feeding pigeons bread crumbs because she has no place to go. Lying in a jail cell, barley the age of 18. Look at grey walls of a future that seems so bleak. All of the forgotten and ignored of everyday life. Those for whom no one cares, as we go about our daily lives. Thrown away people, who want to live and be loved. It makes you wonder how we will be judged by God above?
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