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764 · Feb 2018
Roll on Summer
Paul Butters Feb 2018
My “Daffies” and Bluebells are budding now.
Maybe my Crocuses too.
Roll on Summer is what I say,
Clichéd though that may be.

No more dark dreary “days”,
With biting icy winds.
No more freezing fog
Or fretful snow.

Let’s have glorious sunshine
Bathing all our land.
Ice cream and holidays,
Leisure and luxurious slumbers.

Those Daffodils will be history by “Flaming June”
And with that “roll” will come the “rock”
Of sugar seaside sticks
With dancing music.

Oh to bring back Rock and Roll,
So we can do it again
Down on the beach
Where children ride on donkeys
While dogs frolic on the sands.
To play football again,
Jumpers for goal posts
On lush green grass.

Sunny summer.
Bring it on.

Paul Butters

© PB 9\2\2018.
Yes, Roll on Summer!!!!!!
764 · Oct 2017
Universal Translator
Paul Butters Oct 2017
It’s the first ever meeting of the Interstellar Federation
In which the “Universal Translator” is employed.
The “Chairman” stands and asks
Each delegate to make introduction by race and planet.

The first being announces:
I am Human, from Planet Earth, in The Solar System.
So the second delegate adds:
We too are “Human” and our planet is called “Earth”.
Our “Earth” orbits round The Sun, which lies
In the centre of our Solar System.

And the third representative says:
I am Human too…
And the fourth…
And the fifth…
And the sixth….
And the seventh…

Paul Butters
This idea popped into my head as I watched UK ITV series "Victoria", dealing with the British treatment of The Irish......
763 · Aug 2015
I Am
Paul Butters Aug 2015
Some say that when I die
My soul will fly
Into some newborn life
Human or otherwise.

So that could mean that I myself
Am full of older souls
Who once were kings or queens
Knights, paupers, heroes or villains:
Anyone that will have lived
And died already.

But since our living numbers ever expand
It could even be
That I am a new soul
Totally free of the past.

And all this that I write right here,
Could equally apply to YOU
My friend.

I find some comfort in
These radical thoughts,
Though others prefer
Nirvana.
(Freedom from the cycle of life and death).

Paul Butters
Thinking again!!!
762 · Jul 2019
The Purpose of Life
Paul Butters Jul 2019
Since ancient times crowds of men have asked:
What is the purpose of life?
Me included.
Since my later teens and into my sixties
I have wrestled with this question.

To me, it was never about wealth or status.
People waste their time
With such things.

So what should we do
That is Really Good?
WHAT is “Good”?

For me, Life as such is Good.
What use is the Universe,
With its sprawling galaxies
Of fire, rock, dust, water:
Incredible vistas
Shock awe
Eternally Infinite
What use without
A Witness?

We are that Witness,
But should we be much more?
And all I can think
Is to cherish all that lives,
As life itself
Is the most wondrous thing
Of all.

Our purpose then is to nurture
Life at it’s best:
To make it better and better:
Stronger and brighter
More intelligent
With more Love and compassion.

Some will say
Why ask?
Extraterrestrials may have
Another View.
We may be but bacterial infestations
To be cleansed away.

Yet other “Aliens” may well agree
With every word I type.
And like many of us humans
They may be warning
That we must take
Much better care
Of this Paradise
We call Earth.

I call myself a “Lifist”
A believer in
Christianity at it’s best
(But Not it’s worst),
And other Religions too…

So let’s take the best
Of these Beliefs,
Nurture Nature,
Love Life
And just
Get on with it.

Paul Butters

© PB 31\7\2019.
Amen (a longer poem than my usual).
761 · Aug 2023
Just Once
Paul Butters Aug 2023
I will only do this once
Walk down Pudsey Hill late one night
Admiring the stars
After seeing friends.
Walk anywhere one specific time
Or admire a particular glorious sunset
Every one being unique
In its blend of beautiful reds, blues, purples
And other hues.

So we have to make the most of Now
Be mindful indeed,
For there will be a time
When we can sense no more.

Mortality is certain.
Even the very plants are living on soil
Made from the remains of their ancestors.
And we eat the plants
And eat eaters of the plants.
Ashes to ashes indeed.
You know the rest.

But green living things live on
Making oxygen
For those yet to germinate and grow
Or be born.
Winter is soon followed by Spring.
Destruction by Creation.
An almost endless cycle
In the ***** of Mother Earth.

Paul Butters

© PB 9\8\2023.
758 · Aug 2019
Moth
Paul Butters Aug 2019
A massive moth outside in the night
Flings itself at
My bathroom window.
Another Icarus
Sorely tempted by the electric light within
My house.

A swooping vulture
It tries again and again,
Fracturing its fragile wings:
Battering itself to exhaustion.

Perhaps it curses some Moth God
And feels a failure in life,
Totally frustrated
At not being able to reach its imperative goal.
Not knowing
That had it succeeded
It would now be
Incinerated.

Paul Butters

© PB 25\8\2019.
Yes, I took my annual bath. hehe
751 · May 2015
Bedrock (Experimental Poem)
Paul Butters May 2015
(The symbol * = see word list)

Hi* Reader!
A monna, a fem* both build their family here,
In lands where waqua* flows
And noush* is grown.
They shelter, cosy, nestled in their housdom,
Or dommus

If yu
prefer,
With kids arunning wild,
Alongside dogologs* and pusses.
It cost a lot of brass
to buy
That house
But yes
It really was so worth it.

On weekends dad gets out the vroom
And takes them for a run.
The youngsters chaktac
in the bak
Luving
it: driving thru
The sunny vales.
Back home,
They all sleep well
Each nite
.

From families like this
Are nations built.
Generation,
After generation.
A growing culture
On the bedrock
Of Humanity.

Paul Butters

Word List:      Hi = hello, monna (formerly mon) = man, fem = woman, waqua = water, noush = food, housdom or dommus (formerly domhouse) = house, yu = you, dogologs = dogs, pusses = cats, brass = money, vroom = car, chaktac = chatter, bak = back, luving = loving, thru = through, nite = night. (These words I term “Buttish”, after my surname, though I acknowledge some are “borrowed” from others).
* domhouse amended to dommus; mon to monna (2nd draft).
Experimenting with the English Language!!!
747 · Feb 2011
Girl Eyes
Paul Butters Feb 2011
Delicious eyes of magic fire,
Warm shafts that finger forth a touch
Of Love;
Enticing my desire
To surge through lancing beams
As rolling waves o’erride the ebb,
Which sheens, a mirror of the sky,
Leaves pools of cool tranquillity,
Enriched by sprinkled stars of pollen-
That fell from flowers, that hug the heaven:
Hidden beyond the misty trees,
Which blossom founts of rustling leaves.
   These forks of light lash through the woods,
   From dawning suns that melt the ocean floods.

PAUL BUTTERS
© COPYRIGHT PAUL BUTTERS 1995. First Published 1996 in “Inspirations From Eastern England” by Anchor Books\Forward Press (my first published poem). One word amended since. Also Accepted 1997 by “Spotlight Poets\Forward Press”. Title changed 16\6\12 from "Her Eyes" to "Girl Eyes".
735 · Apr 2019
Feelings
Paul Butters Apr 2019
Feelings of fear, anxiety and hate
Served us well
Back in ancient times
When sabre toothed tigers threatened.

Those adrenaline rushes
Meant that we survived
Through taking flight
Or standing to fight
Like demons.

But in modern times
When physical threats are rare
(Though still too many)
We must Avoid
Such negative emotions.

For Fear can make you
A rabbit in the headlights:
Chronically anxious and depressed.
Or it can turn you
Into a snarling animal,
Snapping at everyone.

On both Arrakis and Earth,
Fear is the mind-killer
And little-death,
To be faced down
And then forgotten.

For we must, I repeat, cast aside
These negative feelings
Of fear and hate.

Instead we need
To nurture
Every budding
Of Love
Joy
Excitement.

We must empathise,
Be compassionate
Sympathetic
And Loving.

Above all,
We must Love.

Paul Butters

© PB 13\4\2019.
Emotions!!!
733 · Jan 2019
Poetry
Paul Butters Jan 2019
It has been said to me
That poetry
Is but Words
And Gobbledygook.

So how can I explain
What poetry is?
It’s something intangible,
An atmosphere,
A spiritual thing.

Poetry is essence,
Touching the soul.
A kind of Magic,
As Queen used to sing.

It makes you tingle
And shudder
And glow.

Much more than a shopping list
Or legal decree
Poetry flows from the heart,
Lyrically lancing
Through space and time
To create a universe
Of bountiful beauty,
Where even the ugliest monstrosity
Is transformed
Into heaven
On Earth.

It saddens me to think
That seemingly soulless people
Miss out
On this.

So all I can do
Is keep on singing,
Carry on writing
In the enduring hope
That one day
They will see the light.

Paul Butters

© PB 2\1\2019.
Inspired by the Queen Wembley Concert 1986.
731 · Feb 2021
I Inwardly Weep
Paul Butters Feb 2021
I inwardly weep to see
We experience existence but once
And not for very long.
But what can we do?
Only our Best
While we Can.

Paul Butters

© PB 17\2\2021.
Written between two little siestas on a February afternoon.
724 · Nov 2017
Every Club
Paul Butters Nov 2017
“Who let you in?” jokes Henry the Doorman,
Waving the signing-in book
Like a wanton dervish,
With a glint in his eye.

But in you go,
Into a dimly lit room,
Filled with smoke in yesteryears.
Men in huddles
Hatching plots
Or just playing cards
Or Dominoes.

In the corner those darts are flying,
While blokes stand chatting
At the bar.

Next door you find The Snooker Room,
Where all is silent
As “World League Championships” are underway.
Snooker and billiards to be precise.
Men so serious
Some sitting sternly
Worrying about their match.
The odd breakout of conversation
Over some dispute or debate.

Back at the bar
All is well.
No need to be PC here.
You can say whatever you want.

We drink and drink,
Until the bar closes
At whatever time.
The chat gets louder
As the ***** loosens our tongues.
Then home we roll together.
Every Club.
A place I love.

Paul Butters

© PB 15\11\2017.
Inspired by my local bowling club, where I  am a "Social Member". :)
719 · Dec 2021
Many An Earth
Paul Butters Dec 2021
Some insist they do not want to read about Space,
One of my favourite things.
They would rather I spoke
About what’s going down on Terra firma.

But to them I say
That there are billions of galaxies,
Stars and planets out there.
So the odds are that
There are countless worlds just like Earth.

Right now,
On such an “Earth”
There may well be
People just like us.
They might look different
But still be sentient beings
Eating and drinking
Even going to the pub,
Watching soaps and sport on their version of TV
Squabbling over who will tidy up today...
Or debating issues on Social Media.

They might be worried about global warming,
Or suffering some Pandemic,
Even waging interminable wars,
Just like us.

For, when all is said and done,
Our very own Earth is just like the rest:
A little blue world
Lost in the blackness of Space.

Indeed, we too are out “In Deep Space”
Every bit as much
As all those other Earths.

Paul Butters

© PB 26\12\2021.
709 · May 2019
Glory
Paul Butters May 2019
Do not take glory from conquests and wins
Or climbing stairways into ivory towers.
Rather, take glory in Mother Nature’s work
And glorious sunrises and sunsets.

Oh those sun-down colours: reds and golds,
Deep purples backed by azure blue hues.
Every sunset unique
Like every swirl of clouds.

Yes every sky is different.
My mind makes pictures from those clouds
Except on days of formless, fathomless mists.

Beneath these skies
We have a lovely vista
Of trees and savannah.
Satellites show us a wondrous world
Full of amazing sights.

But best of all we have
People
And animals
Of all kind.

Folks with whom to share
This glory
The real glory,
Every day we waken
To greet the new bright day.

Paul Butters

© PB 29\5\2019.
Wakey, wakey!
709 · May 2016
Single God
Paul Butters May 2016
I don’t mean to blaspheme,
So please don’t scream.
But if God supports marriage
Then why is He single?
Is having a wife
Just too much strife?
Imagine a Lady of Power
Waiting there
When he comes home at such a late hour!
“Sorry Love, I’ve been creating a universe,
A thing you just can’t miss.”
“No you haven’t” she says,
“You’ve just been on the ****!”

MMM So God is quite wise!
Yet He’s no time for guys “loving” guys.
Nor ******* girl –
That makes his toes curl.
And non-believers, they must go to Hell –
Well so the ancient scriptures tell.

Remember he’s a “jealous God”,
Who much prefers to be on His Tod.
No Zeus, Jupiter or Thor for Him,
And Satan’s prospects are very slim.
Can God be really so old fashioned?
So bad tempered and so impassioned?
A Super Intelligence He’s supposed to be,
Every Existence He can see.
Knowing all and blindingly smart,
Ultimate Master of Science and Art.

Could God be a Woman?
Now there’s a thought.
Yes that goes all against
Everything we’ve been taught.
The greatest Creator might well be a Mother.
If that is so, then adieu to Big Brother.

No matter what, God is Love –
Looking down on us from up above.
A mind that’s thinking on greater things,
While S\He protects us with bright white wings.

(Inspired by a conversation with **** Noble over a lunchtime beer).

Paul Butters
Inspired by a pub conversation with **** Noble indeed.
702 · Jun 2021
Keep Cool
Paul Butters Jun 2021
Keep cool and calm,
Don’t do any harm
To others or yourself.
Even when rejected,
Don’t be affected.

Swim through the storm
Don’t even get warm.
Maintain self esteem
You know what I mean.
Control your emotion
In all the commotion.

Be Mister (or Missus) Cool
And don’t be a tool
For their challenging way –
You know it won’t pay.

People can be evil,
We all know that.
Almost primeval –
That’s a fact.

Feel good about yourself
Ignoring all barbs,
Keep up on that shelf
And deflect all those words.

If you can, smile and laugh,
Show you’re not bothered.
Like a giraffe
Don’t get smothered.

Beat them with wit:
Show them you’re mentally fit.
Use sarcasm too –
You know what to do.

If they then want to fight
Bring it on if you must,
But if outnumbered and outpowered
Get running -
Leaving a cloud of dust.

But first don’t react
Or do anything you can’t retract.
Keep your Cool
Don’t be the angry fool.

Assert yourself
And say what you want.
While doing your best
Not to affront.

What more can I say?
Being Cool is the way.
That’s my message
For today.

Paul Butters

© PB 22\6\2021.
Personal Mantra.
700 · May 2017
Define Your God
Paul Butters May 2017
They say that God is omnipotent,
Omniscient, omnipresent:
All the omnis.

An all-powerful, all seeing, all knowing
All place being.
No pressure then, Mr. or Mrs. God.

Paul Butters
Short and sweet. ;)
693 · Jan 2018
I Wish
Paul Butters Jan 2018
I wish I could say something good
About growing old and dying.
For sixty years I had a great relationship
With Mum,
But then that demon Dementia brought her
Living Death.

She thought in the end I’d
Betrayed her,
“Allowing her to be put in a home”.
And then, to rub it in,
She was allegedly abused and badly bruised
By evil members of staff.
Mum passed away
Two months later.
The last time I saw her
She was waiting to be taken to the loo
As I was ushered out.

We all grow old,
Gradually fading away,
Tormented by Diabetes, hypertension
And strokes.
Full of arthritis
And gammy knees.

The list of ills goes on,
No proverbial light at the end
Of the tunnel.

So all I can say is live for
Now.

Make the most of our Share of Time.
Take comfort in passing on the baton
To the likes of Jacob
My great nephew.
Teach him and his peers
As well as we can
To take care of The Earth
A **** sight better
Than we have.

Try to Improve ourselves,
Keep growing
Every single day.
Keep learning
Experiencing
Living
As long as we can.

Paul Butters

© PB 8\1\2018.
Trying. Mum actually died on the 12th December 2013 but it still hurts. I've waited a long time to mention it. Last time I saw her alive she was waiting to be escorted to the loo of all things. Indeed I have now added these details to the actual poem.
689 · Feb 2021
Brevity
Paul Butters Feb 2021
Brevity bangs

Paul Butters

© PB 19\2\2021.
Kept this on the chocks for a few days.....
688 · May 2021
Ocean
Paul Butters May 2021
The sea sweeps to the far horizon:
Infinity’s edge,
As endless waves lap onto the shore.
Above us gulls wheel and scream
Hunting for prosaic fish and chips.
They ****** them
From hapless humans
Down below.

And the breakers keep breaking.
Elsewhere the ocean rages,
Storming the cliffs
With spraying cascades of water
And thrashing rain.

Here today, though, it is calm and clear.
Up above we see an even greater ocean:
That of blue sky
And nightly black space.

Up there we truly look
To infinity
Eternity too.
Vastness
Beyond our comprehension.

We people are but tiny specks
On island beaches
Insignificant particles
Of humanity
Lost in a universe
That knows no bounds.
Yet here to enjoy
Those golden dawns and dusks,
Fanned by freshening breezes –
Much gentler versions of gales and hurricanes.

Never forget that the sea is mighty.
Just love it
When it’s in a peaceful mood:
Soak up the spirit of surf
As you watch those endless waves.

Paul Butters

© PB 8\5\2021.
I live by the sea....
687 · Jun 2018
Early Hour
Paul Butters Jun 2018
It’s an early hour
At least for me.
I’m half asleep yet full of thought.
As if my brain has churned through everything
Throughout the night
And come up with
Some answers.

This happens often
So poems and things emerge
At times like this.

It’s cool and calm right now.
I love this peaceful, early morning time:
No birdsong even.
Yet a pigeon and sparrow on my back lawn.
No sound of cars
Or any of the hustle and bustle
Of a working day.

So serene and soothing to my soul.
Safe as though I’ve hidden
Under the floorboards
Away from the sun’s hot glare
And the turbulence
Of Life.

I suppose I’m mindful now
Of all around me
As I meditate
About nothing in particular.

Even a little spider in my diary this morning
Has not disturbed this serene feeling,
This atmosphere of calm.
Carbon dioxide cools this room.
Ah, wrong kind of atmosphere!
I speak (inside my head) of more soulful emotion
As I said
But I’d better be careful
That I don’t fall back to sleep
Laid back here
In my comfy armchair…

Paul Butters

© PB 16\6\2018.
It's Early!
684 · May 2020
Class
Paul Butters May 2020
Open your legs and show your class.
Haha.
Sing like Elvis,
Freddie, Pavarotti
Or Shirley Bassey.
Belt out Lennon-McCartney tunes
With Beach Boys Harmonies
And Eric’s Slow Hand Guitar.

Be as Magical as Messi,
Supremely Shakespeare with your plays and poems,
Better still. Hopkins and Keats.
Show the genius of Brian Wilson
And Oscar Wilde.
Not forgetting the Table Tennis Kings
Waldner and Ma Long.  

Oh Yes
Be Champion
Be Real Madrid
Or Barca if you prefer.
1970 Brazil
Federer, Navratilova
Or Lewis Hamilton.

Be simply the best,
Like Ali,
Or better still,
Be better than yourself
Day after day.
Just keep improving,
That’s the way.

Let this poem be tagged
“Motivational”
To get you off your backside.
There’s nothing like Achieving
To fill us full of Pride.

Paul Butters

© PB 11\5\2020. Hopkins, Keats and Ali added 14\5.
Sorry to whomever I left out!
680 · Oct 2017
One World
Paul Butters Oct 2017
Swirling worlds whirl around many stars,
Throughout the depths of space.
Rocky planets like Earth or Mars,
Put there by God’s Good Grace.

Stars born from cloudy nebulae – dust and gas.
Suns like grains of sand upon a beach.
Some many times our own Sun’s mass,
Further away than our minds can reach.

Our little Earth, so gloriously blue.
Teeming with life, it’s oh so true.
Planet Paradise we take for granted.
Why can’t we see that we’re enchanted?

Worlds like ours are very rare,
Though there may be others way out there.
The human race can be a parasite,
Draining the soil with technological might.

We have to fight against this destruction.
Conservation is my instruction.
Cherish All Life is what I say,
Loving Nature the only way.

Wellbeing for all must be our creed.
Don’t be tempted by ravenous greed.
We have one Life and just one World,
So there it is, my flag’s unfurled.

Paul Butters
Wrote the first 4 lines just before midnight last night - came to me as I lay in bed...
672 · Jun 2018
Ending
Paul Butters Jun 2018
If you will indulge me, a Story for you:

"Ending"

I’m safely tucked up in bed now. So frail. When I think how fat I used to be. But I’m very, very old. Might even die tonight, in my sleep. Can hear the wind howling outside.
It’s not such a bad place this. The carers look after me well. If I’m lucky they will wheel me into the garden again tomorrow. Hope that wind dies down and the sun shines. Where am I? Can’t recall the name. This Dim Enta thing. So tired now. So tired…
“And wake!”
What? Where am I? On my back! Ceiling. Face! Doctor Sanders!”
“It’s over, Krol, welcome back.”
I remember. Doctor Sanders. I’ve been hypnotised, regressed to a former life. Lived that whole life! And now I’m awake!
Me: “Did I just die there?”
Dr. Sanders: “Yes Krol, in your sleep. Or at least the person you were died in his sleep… But did you get the full life experience this time?”
Me: “Just about, Bob. I can remember back to being about three. My parents, our little dog, a baby sister. Playing with a wooden train or something that you could ride in. But it seems I died in my sleep…”
Bob: “How far back in time was this?”
Me: “I was born mid-twentieth century, not long after the Second World War…”
Bob: “Fascinating. Better get you into Debriefing, before you forget it all.”
Me: “Yeah. It sure was a long life. Lots of history for you. I can’t get over that that was me!”
Bob: “You’ll soon adjust, Krol.”
Me: “That Death thing was scary, Bob. I was afraid of ‘dying’, as they called it, for most of my life. Thank goodness we found a cure.”
Bob: “Yes Krol, things were really rough back then. But come on, let’s get that report of yours done…”

Paul Butters

© PB 13\6\2018.
A story for a change. Looking to the future...
671 · Jul 2017
Pathway
Paul Butters Jul 2017
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
Hope you all enjoy this.
667 · Jan 2011
Hello Reader
Paul Butters Jan 2011
My dearest reader, seconds ago, before your
Decision to turn the page, there was nothing.

These very words were hidden away and thus
Unseen, to all intents did not exist:
Just like the beauty of the Jovian Moons
'Til “Voyager” beamed those pictures back to Earth.

For you have brought this page to life - yes you and only you!
You bring along a wealth of memories of your own,
Your feelings, thoughts, regrets and sorrows, joys
And fears, your hopes and fantasies.

You have the mountains of your mind:
Your personal rivers, clouds and suns: flowers and gasometers!
Landscapes, dreams and nightmares of your very own.
And me, as you sit reading this, I might be dead and buried,
Or with you right now, or maybe miles away.

To you I give the role of God: to breathe your life upon this page.
Take you away, dear reader, and there’s nothing: formless void.
Yet now, together, you may join me, in a realm
Where Life, though challenged by evil,
Is warded by our Love.

Paul Butters

(C) PB 1997.
(C) Paul Butters 1997. A fair introduction to you all.
666 · Sep 2017
Rally Call
Paul Butters Sep 2017
Yell your head off
And shout, shout, shout.
Get in amongst them
And put it about.

We’re awake now, hear us cry!
Full of energy,
Watch us fly.

Out of our slumbers,
On the up.
Highly charged,
We’ll win The Cup.

We’re all full of motivation,
Hear our incantation.
Forward we go, bursting with pride.
Come with us, enjoy the ride.

We’re the greatest, we all know.
Ever ready to fight the foe.
We are winners through and through,
Even better than Doctor Who.

We will put the world to rights.
You will see incredible sights.
All together we unite,
So stay with us and
The future’s bright.

Paul Butters
Lyrical again.
652 · May 2018
Hymn to Life
Paul Butters May 2018
Rise up with passion,
Rise up with joy.
Rise up with Love
That can never cloy.

Keep rising
Way beyond the stars:
Much further than Venus,
Well past Mars.

For Life is a Wonder,
Only lived once.
Don’t ever waste it,
Don’t be a dunce.

Let inspiration guide you
Way beyond this realm
From the shortest grass
To the tallest elm.

So Love all Life
Is What I Say
Be kind to everyone:
Try to make their day.

Show every mercy
Whenever you can
Respect all others
Woman or man.

Every Life is a freak of chance,
So play the music,
Begin the dance.

Paul Butters

© PB 21\5\2018.
Inspired by "How Great Thou Art" and other hymns.
647 · Aug 2017
On and On
Paul Butters Aug 2017
Step outside of space and time
Then look back In
And you will see that everyone you know
Is both alive and dead
At once.
For all has happened
Happens
And continues to happen.

The very universe is both alive and dead,
Winking in and out of existence
Like a sub-atomic particle.
Big Bangs
Big Cools
Perhaps a constant re-Creation
Endlessly repeating.

Maybe indeed we’ve lived our lives
Are living our lives
An infinite number of times
Each time slightly different
As we learn and learn
Time after time
Relentlessly
Into Eternity –
An endless cycle.

Paul Butters
I woke up early today and by 5.55 AM I had written this.
646 · Jan 2019
Evolution
Paul Butters Jan 2019
In the final analysis
We are but colonies of bacteria
Swimming about in our own primordial soup.
Who knows what pacts and treaties
Have been made within our very bodies?

Aeons and aeons of evolution
Have led to this:
The human being.

So much mindless life,
Following instinct,
Building and building
To produce intelligence.

Natural Selection,
Seen by Darwin,
Such a beautiful thing –
Presented by Attenborough on a silver screen –
God’s Formula:
The mark of Genius.

Paul Butters

© PB 22\1\2019.
Inspired by TV Programme "Life on Earth" - David Attenborough 1979.
644 · Sep 2018
Oh My
Paul Butters Sep 2018
My short term mem
My short
My
M

Paul Butters

© PB 10\9\2018.
What poem? ;)
638 · Sep 2017
Dawn Vision
Paul Butters Sep 2017
Dawn breaks,
Awaking me to our universe:
Ever expanding,
Into infinite space.

Billions of stars,
Planet and moons.
Countless possibilities,
Multiverse or not.
Too vast to comprehend.

Together we are
But a leaf in the forest,
Drop in the ocean,
Grain of sand on the beach.
Lost in orderly chaos.
One sparkle in a firework display.

Logically there should be higher powers
And maybe one supreme being, ruling all.
Call it Gods or God
Whatever you like.
Feel free to choose your own.

Select from the maelstrom of energy and life
That is out there.
Choose from intelligences way beyond our reckoning.

For names are nothing but convenience
For we ants
As we look up at the stars.

Paul Butters
This sprang to mind just before 8AM so I went downstairs and grabbed my notepad.......
635 · Jul 2022
Heat
Paul Butters Jul 2022
Heat from the street beneath my feet keeps hitting me.
The sun above relentlessly shows no mercy,
Baking everything with its fiery stare.
Sultry mugginess smothers us in a sauna of sweat
As even the breeze burns my reddening face.

Global warming turns us into another Venus
As record-high temperatures
Scorch us into submission.
Even some Sun Lovers are hiding now,
While others insist it’s just Summer.
In heat like this there’s only one solution…

Time for a beer.

Paul Butters

© PB 17\7\2022.
Summer!
633 · Dec 2016
SAD
Paul Butters Dec 2016
SAD
As I said this time last year,
We likely get just one taste of life.
So why do we spend so many hours
Watching daytime TV,
Engaging in petty feuds,
Following football and other trivial things
(In my particular case).
Money worries and relationships,
Celebrity and “news”,
Such preoccupation with the mundane.

So I must turn my mind to higher peaks,
Wherever or whatever they may be.
Puzzle the Purpose
Find The Way,
Give life meaning.
Overcome that Seasonal Affective Disorder,
To brighten every day.

As we head towards The Spring,
Think on what joys that’s going to bring.

Paul Butters
Here we are again: THAT time of year...... Dedicated to MUM who passed away this day in 2013.
629 · Oct 2018
PatrioTrump - Clerihew
Paul Butters Oct 2018
Donald Trump
Sure packs a thump.
For America First
He does his worst.

Paul Butters

© PB 8\10\2018.
hehe
628 · Dec 2015
Nothing
Paul Butters Dec 2015
Nothing is Impossible
Because there is always Something
And always a Way
For Something
To happen.

Paul Butters
Contemplating Death again...but maybe seeing a way forward...Minimalist.......
623 · Jun 2018
Cool 2
Paul Butters Jun 2018
Mist drifts amidst tall trees -
Above cool, clear blue pools
And grass splattered with dew.

We too should stay so cool:
Composed and rational even in a duel.
Forget adrenaline
And lose that Cortisol.
Ever see a dog or cat work out
Or do press-ups?
Watch those animals relax
And sleep:
Only springing up when something happens.

Avoid those fiery rages
As much as you can.
Steer clear of hell
With all its fury and flames
And violent eruptions.

Give me a golden pint
Of ice-cold brew.
Any beer will do.
Even without such help
Let us calm our hearts,
Lay back and relax
Even fall asleep for a while.
For we have earned
Our quiet hours
Amongst those misty trees.

Paul Butters

© PB 26\6\2018.
Saw some drifting mist this morning...
623 · Dec 2020
Heaven
Paul Butters Dec 2020
According to the Bible there is
“Heaven”
A high place where all good people go
When their Life’s innings is over.
But Bad folk go down to “Hell” –
To suffer “bottomless perdition”.

Yet we only have to look up
At the morning or evening sky
To see Planet Hell:
It’s the brightest “star” of all:
Venus!

And I believe
That out there amongst that ocean of stars
There is a so called “Exoplanet”
In a distant solar system
Like ours
Perhaps twice as big as Earth:
A sub-tropical world
With ice only at the very poles
And on lofty mountain tops.

I see a place of endless forest
Filled with butterflies
And songbirds.
Grassy plains too,
Roamed by alien buffalo.
Oceans teeming with fish
And dolphins
And colourful corals.

A world untroubled
By killing
Or pollution.
Dotted with tiny villages
Only
With peaceful inhabitants
Basking in afternoon suns.

I picture a utopian paradise
Shangri-la
Or what you will.
Another Eden,
Or if you prefer
Simply
Heaven.

Paul Butters

© PB 28\12\2020.

Another one for Norman Stevens.
As requested by Norman.
620 · Mar 2023
Easter
Paul Butters Mar 2023
It’s blue sky brightly sunny
As we await the Easter Bunny.
Still some clouds about
Rain might have a shout.

Remembering when Jesus died on the cross
Only to beat Death
So no longer a loss.

Let’s throw off our shackles too
Enjoy those Easter eggs,
Quaff a golden brew
And drain the barrel to the dregs.

It might be a crime to tire of rhyme
But give me a minute or two
Rhyme isn’t a favourite of mine
So I might not carry this through.

Forsythias, Daffies and now Mahonias
Gold flowers full of sun
Thinking of Begonias
Adding to the fun.

The Amaryllis must be out
Giving us a mighty shout
Other flowers too
What a lovely view.

**** and Robins are flitting around
Making lots of birdsong sound.
We’ve just sprung forward,
As you know,
So Nature is putting on
A bit of a show.

Symbolic eggs will soon be eaten
That chocky taste just can’t be beaten.
So enjoy Easter everyone.
Let’s hope we’ll be basking in the sun.

Paul Butters

© PB 30\3\2023.
Springtime!!!
609 · Apr 2019
How?
Paul Butters Apr 2019
You are right my friend:
The World is full of evil,
Full of inequality
Poverty, crime and fraud.

Of endless cruelty by inhuman humans
Fuelled or fed by drugs
And a lust for Money.

Radicalised robots rampage everywhere,
All brainwashed and conditioned
By social media.

They slump over their mobiles,
Looking for Pokemons
And their next fix.

We know there has to be a better way.
But how can we re-educate
These seething masses?

How can we snap them out
Of their reverie,
Filled by Celebrity
And sugar?

I call myself a Lifist
And Humanist,
As I cherish Life in all its forms – except wasps!
And I Love People
In spite of all their wicked ways.
Love’s Power lingers in my heart.

But how do we get this message across?
In the good olde days
Religions ruled
Through Fear of Hell
And worse.

For Science has changed all that.
People no longer Believe
In Anything
Except Money
And Power.

All You Need is Love
Is what John Lennon said.
So why are we waiting
For people to listen?

Such a simple message
That you know is right:
Love Life.

Paul Butters

© PB 10\4\2019.
We keep trying...
605 · Jun 2018
Universal
Paul Butters Jun 2018
There’s always a sun bringing light
To places otherwise dark.
Anywhere in the universe
Always a star or two (or more) nearby.

Somewhere there is always life
No matter how transient it may be.
Life that flourishes
In icy wastes, volcanic vents, wide deserts:
Almost anywhere.
For life clings on
With utter determination
To survive.

There’s always grass and trees
Fish and animals
Birds and insects
Of some sort
Wherever life has taken hold.

Never underestimate Mother Nature
Wherever she reigns
Perhaps on planets of every size
Circling around stars
That boggle the mind
Compared to our humble Sol.

Just Rejoice
That We are here right now:
Able to witness and marvel at the wonders
Of a cosmic realm
That we have only just begun
To explore.

Paul Butters

© PB 25\6\2018.
What a Universe!!!
605 · Jun 2023
Sultry Sun
Paul Butters Jun 2023
The sultry summer sun ***** all moisture out of the soil
To leave cracked earth: mini earthquakes
Soil crumbling into choking dust.
Brown lawns say it all.
Suffocatingly hot indoors
And baking outside.
Desert threat.

It’s the height of Summer
And even the wind is suddenly warm
On this humid, balmy day.
Bumble bees buzz about
On my Cotoneasters, Valerians, Geraniums
And Wild Lavatera.
Broken backed Lavatera
From a deluge
The other night.

Rather this close heat
Than the icy blasts of Winter
Better to slumber
In comfort,
Grab a cold beer
And enjoy the Sun.

Paul Butters

© PB 24\6\2023.
Summertime....Hot Sun!
601 · May 2019
Aqua
Paul Butters May 2019
Our bright blue world
Shines across space
A beautiful beacon
That shouts
Life!

A sphere swathed in clouds
That when seen from the surface
Present endless shapes
Which change from minute to minute.

Shapes never the same thing twice
And on a misty, murky day
Totally formless.

Below these clouds and mists are further clouds:
Of leaves on lofty trees
And flocks of birds.
Swarms of insects
And dust storms in the desert.

But in the greater scheme of things
Ours is an ocean world
Bathed in water.
A Paradise of trees and grass
Dotted with a vast array
Of animal life.

A planet clothed in forest
And flowery meadows:
Providing oxygen for all who breathe.

So all I have to say
Today
Is please don’t cut those forests
Down.

Paul Butters

© PB 8\5\2019.
To The Future...
595 · Dec 2017
Spiritual Solution
Paul Butters Dec 2017
Long after I’ve gone –
As if that wasn’t bad enough –
Billions of years from now
The Earth will be engulfed by the sun
Which by then will be a red giant.
If not swallowed, then badly scorched.
Hopefully “We” will escape before then
With all our “Goods”.

But Trillions of years later
There surely will be no escape
When The Universe falls apart completely.
For it will thin into almost Nothing:
Frozen emptiness.
All our history, art, literature
Forgotten.
Death of Deaths.

No more Shakespeare, Beethoven, Einstein, Curie.
No Britain, America, World.
No Human Race.
Is there any hope of salvation?
Nothing in the Material World it seems.
Only, perhaps, a “Spiritual Solution”.

Paul Butters

© PB 29\12\2017.
Sorry for being gloomy.
581 · Nov 2015
Faith
Paul Butters Nov 2015
Call it “Faith” or call it “Hope”,
Whatever it is, it helps us cope.
Scientist say we live then die:
Death brings Nothing, no reason Why.
We’re made of matter which doesn’t last,
So soon we’ll be a thing of the past.

Religions offer an afterlife,
With just reward for all our strife.
We hope there will be more than this:
A spiritual world, even heavenly bliss.

We pray those boffins are all wrong,
That God (or Whoever) will summon us with his gong.
Physical reality really *****,
Even if you’ve lots of bucks.
Our common prayer I can’t conceal:
That simply put,
THIS isn’t REAL.

Paul Butters
574 · Sep 2020
Streamings
Paul Butters Sep 2020
My stream of consciousness is in full flow,
Tumbling down the page.
A cascade of words
Bouncing and foaming
Towards unknown seas.

No planning here.
No structure
Or direction.
Just meanderings
And oxbow lakes.

Free verse unfettered
By Draconian Rules
Or dogma.
Odd rhymes thrown in
Perhaps:
Casual confetti.

So what should I type about,
Sitting here in my armchair
In the silence of my lounge?

The sky is full of clouds
A blanket over this
September afternoon.
Perfect conditions
For composing this poem.

Should I put the world to rights?
(How long have you got?)
Or just indulge
In some uplifting visions?

I don’t do emotions very much.
The cork is firmly closed
On those.
Recall my early loves:
All unrequited.
Crushes
That crushed my very soul.
Memories of crying inside,
Unable to eat
Or think of anything except
That longing for love
Which never came.

So no
I don’t do emotions.
And seldom reveal myself
As I just did.
I’d rather let my imagination soar,
My eagle eye -
A soaring cliché –
Taking in the sweep of space
And everything below.

I see trees
And animals,
Mountains, coasts and oceans.
People milling about.
A scream of seagulls soars above the sea.
Waves crash:
A thundering tsunami
Against the brittle cliffs.

I have many voices.
From soft soothing lullabies
To grand orations
Full of pomp and splendour.

Music plays in my head:
A crescendo of orchestras
And songs.
Freddie, Elvis, Bassey
Clapton, Hendrix and Satriani.
Ginger Baker, Phil Collins.

Reciting poetry
Within my brain
Is easy
After Bohemian Rhapsody.

So once more to the beach dear friends
With Brian Wilson
And his crew.
Let Sloop John B be launched
Again
Heading for oceans new.

At last a rhyme
As attention spans begin to
Wane.
Enough for now
My loyal friends.
I’d best bid you
Adieu.

Paul Butters

© PB 4\9\2020. First 3 lines Written 16\8\20 in my big paper diary.
Going Walkabout
569 · Aug 2017
Shall I Compare You?
Paul Butters Aug 2017
Shall I compare you (being modern)
To a summers day?
Or to a galaxy full of stars?
No I will not
For I know full well
That you will never fall
For any of my corny chat-up lines.

Paul Butters
Just thought of this straight after a post-tea nap lol
569 · Nov 2017
Every Home
Paul Butters Nov 2017
Every home has a Mother
Waiting with open arms at the door.
And a Dad in his armchair,
As the tradition goes.

Welcome to the lounge
Where we can huddle by the fire.
TV in the corner
And - if you have them –
Dogs and cats to stroke.

Then there’s Sunday Lunch
And those daily aromas of baking.
Memories of scooping out the bowl
And eating most of the peas you shelled.

Home – a place of refuge
Where you can bring all your troubles
And have them resolved.

Our Mum kept a beautiful garden,
Resplendent with colourful flowers.
An oasis on a council estate.

As Dorothy Gale of Oz fame said before me:
There’s no place like Home.

Paul Butters

© PB 20\11\2017.
Looks like I've started an "Every" series.
566 · May 2021
Conundrum
Paul Butters May 2021
Scientists say that everyone dies,
Having a set lifespan,
With the only possible exception being
Some unique jellyfish
Who regenerate like Doctor Who.

Yet religious folk claim
We will have eternal life
So long as we believe
In Their God (whoever).

So who can we believe?
Are any of them right
At all?

Is death the same for all?
The same for a man or woman
As for a blade of grass or withering rose?
The same for all men and women?
For humans and animals alike?

Have we been told the truth
About this and other matters?
The questions go on:
Conundrums whirling around our minds
As we inwardly crave Salvation.

All we have now,
To cling on to,
Is good old Hope.
Faith has no certainty
For me.
I never kidded myself
About that.
There’s only Hope, Hope,
Hope.

Paul Butters

© PB 10\5\2021.
There is always Hope
565 · Apr 2024
Journey
Paul Butters Apr 2024
Wispy wheat fields wave in the wind
As the train chugs through
Along the track of Life that circles
To bring you back where you began.

They say The Journey is the thing:
Meandering through river cut valleys
Between towering mountains.
Rivers running down to endless ocean
That drowns our globe
We call the Earth.

Kids wave from the windows of that train
A custom of love for fellow humankind.
All aboard are full of hopes and dreams
And fears
Anticipating all manner of things
At their destination for the day.

Many have gone to the seaside this way,
While others have travelled for work
Or even a new life.
Our ancients may have been nomads
And modern folk too must sometimes journey.
There’s no place like home,
But first you have to get there.
Go safely everyone.

Paul Butters

© PB 19\4\2024.
Circular Line
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