The power of play 🧸✨
Is more than just a mechanism to keep the blues away 😔✨
It is the catalyst 🔥✨
To self exploration 🌈✨
Learning what I like and don’t like 👍✨
Coming to terms with feelings 💧✨
Minimizing future frustrations 👹✨
Acquiring knowledge with meaning 📚✨

The untenable darkness connected us;
a language of alienation
native to our inspirations,
twisted.
Swirling, we took residence
in untapped soil,
imposing a culture of transformation
aligned with radical forms of exploration:
a bounding endeavour to the Mother Sun.

Everything that was
breathes through this moment,
this present,
and what will be
is stuck there,
forever.

Out of blackest space
The starship “Discovery” emerges from the abyss
To orbit around a beautiful blue world
Just like Earth.
Its captain decides to land
And the view gets better as it descends.

Continents and oceans are plain to see,
But so much more:
Futuristic cities –
Great civilisations –
The crew cannot wait for that moment
Of First Contact.

And so it happens:
The captain and his officers
Stand at last before an emissary
Of a planet light years away from Earth.

Before them is an alien
Humanoid indeed
Though with Leaves of all things
Decorating its head.
It’s neither male or female
As far as they can tell
And has a long tail
With of all things
A plant *** at the end.
Yes, a tail stuck in a plant ***!

The alien swishes its tail to bring
The plant *** into its leafy hands.

“Welcome to our world,” smiles the Alien,
“It is called Earth just like yours.
Just like countless other Earths
Around the Cosmos.
And yes
I am what you would call a ‘Plant’.
For most worlds of our universe did not
Evolve carnivores like you.
If I want a proper feed
I find some soil beds
And search for food with
My tap root.

But worry not,
You are what you are.
You cannot help the hand that Evolution
Has given you
No more than any of us can change
Whatever our ancestors did in historical times.
We welcome you in Peace and Love,
At least in the hope
That you don’t Eat Us.”

The captain and his crew hang their heads
In shame
Until the captain replies:
“Thank you for your welcome.
We too come in peace.
And rest assured
Our intentions are good:
Whatever happens
We will not eat you.”

“Good” says the alien, with a nod,
“That’s just as well,
For we have giant bees here,
And you wouldn’t want
To make them angry with you.
But come,
It’s time for you to see
Our enormous butterflies.”

And with that,
First Contact
Was concluded
And a new relationship
Began.

Paul Butters

© PB 27\12\2020.

Conversations are like hikes in the realm of thought.

Multiple people traversing ideas, concepts, memories, emotions. Together.

Once the conversation ends, it’s like a completed hike, a route you can re-trek, go back to explore even further.

Like a tracing of a route on a map, the conversation is almost like a work of art. A map of the world of thought created and experienced in-between those conversing.

Some conversations, like hikes, are scattered, going all over, making many detours.

Others are a nice straight path, easy to follow.

Other conversations can take many interesting turns, detours, and leave you somewhere totally unexpected.

Some are like climbing a mountain, difficult to follow the trails, requiring great effort, but the view from the top is extraordinary.

It’s been a long time since my heart has soared.
The days flickering by.
Rolling through the channels trying to find something new.
Alan Watts plays in the back-screaming LIFE.
My girlfriend says, "baby, just get in the car."
Sitting in the passenger seat heading to wherever next.
Your face shines through rear view mirror.
A smirk of goodbye.
******* out to the sky.
Screaming, “what is life after this?”
Holding onto eachother like there’s no life left to grasp.
This is my sign that life does get better after this.
The world is closed but our hearts open in a 24-hour vacancy.
She says, “do you remember when we first met?”
Apple blossoms and moon shine between her lips.
A taste of something I miss.
Her red stained lips traced the rim of her cup.
Yelling at the bar “I just can’t get enough”.
Her foot stomping at the bar stool.
Just one more song please.
Just one more dance.
Just one more moment.
& we keep grasping for those old moments.
A reminder to us that life is our last call.

The tall young woman in a golden dress
spins a globe upon her desk and waits,
and waits till calloused finger comes to rest
upon an unknown wilderness. What spaces
lie yet undiscovered, like tabletops
to be uncovered / to be uncovered:
secret words within a foreign bookshop
under dust and under clutter—
Wiped clean! The tablecloth's pulled off! Now she
will be the first to glean their mysteries:
To see what no one else has ever seen,
To be where no one else has ever been.
Until nothing is obscured for her.
For hers is this world and she its explorer.