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 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
 Feb 2018 Paul Butters
Sherilin
Many miles divide our longing hearts
A great distance keeps you from I
We must rely on our one common sky
To keep our love alive

I know somewhere, you lie in wait
In a sun that burns with passion deep
Under a crescent moon in which wee’ll dream
Until we finally get our chance to meet

I’ll see you in every star I find
In every sunray as they shall peak
In he breaths of wind beneath my feet
Let’s grasp these moments when we feel weak

We share one world, one sky, one love
For miles is just a measurable means
Turn to the sky darling you will find me there
The distance will not be as bad as it seems

Pending the moment I can hold you close
Aspiring the kiss on your longed for face
I will utilize the powers of all my faith
Until we both stand in one common place

I will meet you under the sky
.

Author Sheryl Lin Hayes
If Life Was Made On Canvas
Sherilin328 iflifewasmadeoncanvas
Maybe it was the very first time
But it haunts me as though
It has happened a million before
From when we are young it sews
Itself into the very fabric of who we are told to be

I took a hit.
Laughter trickled round my ears
Jeers and shouts stalking me
As I walked away, fear building
As I held myself back from retreat.

Behind my eyes flashed up
A drunken stranger making me feel small
I was only 10 years old
But after me they yelled out catcalls
I rushed away, trying anything to forget

Now I am older,
Nothing has changed
Except now I know not to walk alone
And keep off evening trains
If I want to remain innocent and unbothered

I am not alone in this
We exchange these familiar tales
Softly speaking out what we hide
We fast learn it comes with being female
We stay silent to keep our pride.
For the females. It shouldn't have to be this way.
 Feb 2018 Paul Butters
Lizzie
Work in class they say. Do what you're supposed to do they say. Well they seem to say a lot of ******* things. They say sometimes we need to do things to feel, a way to express, but they don't really care about what your need or feel is. They want you to be what they want and what they want to see. Nothing changes unless you try and initiate that change. Some people think that death is the most sought after thing for relief they don't really want to end it forever they just want to feel and they want to end the hurt, the pain, or just their thoughts. They just want relief that's all it is. People look at addictions and they see them as foul and derogatory, but the people who have them see it as an escape from the world or from their minds. That's what most of them are. We can't be a shadow forever.
Wrote this last year...
 Feb 2018 Paul Butters
Alec
You make me wanna come home
After a long day, when my soul wants to roam.

You remind of lazy summer mornings
Curled up on the couch watching tv and adoring.
The way the yellow light seems to curl and seep through the blinds
While sweet fantasies entrance my mind.

Sprawled out
With no worries, no doubts.
I dreamt of Galip’s dream,

He dreamt of  sitting by a blue haired ******* a bus.

I dreamt of what he saw.



He looks at her sitting alone by the window.

He doesn’t wonder why her hair is blue.

He doesn’t ask why is she so beautiful.

He doesn’t wonder why she she alone,

at midnight boarding empty buses.



He sits and looks at her.

And imagines the people who see her everyday.

He looks at her eyes that look at

everything in the world as if she owns it.

That looked at everyone as if they are hers.

He wonders do these people know how fortunate they are

to be at receiving end of her smile.

He knows (as I know) why

she caught his eye.



She looks exactly as she is.

She is something he could never be.

Something I could never be.

Galip and me, both are caught in the storm of her being

And we forget what we are.

And it is bliss.
love dream storm bliss smile eyes beautiful blue window
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