Life is a struggle
Armed with a bare-knuckle

Born out of ancient rubble
Collecting what chance has to offer

If you have what it takes
It rewards you with inequality -
Objective prosperity with emotional disparity

But if by chance you are misplaced
You get to see the devil’s face
Just as real as that loving gaze
You strive to see and tend to praise

Dazed by the gravity of objective reality
No matter the cost, we strive for more clarity

The only constant is change
So evolution produced the brain
No matter what nature may bring
How fearsome, how clever, how strange
Man has the tool to play the game
To adapt, to upgrade, to remain
So the human is built to survive
But what does it mean to thrive?
The weight of it boggles the mind
When one contemplates being alive
And we long for the days of simplicity
That we left so far behind
So let’s use this miracle of plasticity
To channel our neural electricity
And maybe one day we will find
A way to hit rewind
And evolve toward a goal we agree
Can actually make us happy

This is a new page.
Empty;Deep Love and woes fill;
The former is me?

Life clings on
In deserts, ice sheets and hot acid pools.
Those selfish genes persist:
Batons in a Marathon relay race.
Generation follows generation.
Clone adds to clone.

So life spreads:
The mightiest empire,
Covering all the globe.
A world full of living wonders.
All manner of plants, insects and animals.
Oceans teeming with fish.
From tropical paradise
To awesome glaciers.

We must be mindful
Of this glorious beauty.
Mother Nature reigns supreme.
Sing and rejoice,
Party hard
And put aside
The awful truth -
That in the end
Everyone dies.

Paul Butters

© PB 26\7\2018.

A man born without wings into the ashes of a forest
dead leaves and a valley of butterflies
Bleached to be ethicless
effortless as it is
To go without pursuit of question

A mind of matter
Wherein death lies one doesn't know
You're feeling all these expectancies
all these dependencies
Energy of yours, unhinged

The screens written
with the bastardisation of simple truths
Rhythmic as a creature
as spoken wavelength navigating
A wondering memory standing in front of the collectives

Transcendence above the impermanence
A palace on the grounds among us, but separated
dangerous minds of a phenomenon, in sequencing
Unceasing in divinity and untempered
by the indignation of his companions

Free to be, among the meadows of ourselves.