Slip like a
Fish through my grasp
And I will
Tear out my hair
Strand by paper thin
Lock
Until I am left eating
Raw magnetic tape
And finding new awe
In the constellations
Beneath the firepit
I will
Button my jacket
While tasting the cool, bitter
Smoke of memories
Whanging out of my head
As I do my best to
Keep from tearing a hole in my cabin
And fleeing out into the
Bitter crisp night.
Know that
It is not for myself
That I commiserate.
You and I,
We were lost at sea too long past
Before the ashen cement had dried.
The prolonged lingering of the heart
You’ve already forgotten.
-2019

Fold thyself upon the mattress
The cards upon the table
The hand it grasps
Six fingered
And encased in glass
I smoke
Memories of five years past
Numbness of the heart
Tainting the very ego
Breathing the bones
Bequeathing a new wonderment
Animate the dead,
Go and
Reach into the trove and
Ransack the physique
Ruination and
A tear in the psyche
I am gone.
-2019

I want to live in an age of letters
Of horse-carriages and cobbled roads
Maybe I glorify the past too much
But nowadays it seems we’re always in a rush

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.

Why can't women have ***
Why are you praised for the same act that demonizes me
Why can't I be proud of my body
Why must it be hidden away
Why can't I experiment
Why can't I even experience
Why does *** mean I'm so ******
Why does *** have to destroy me

*** is an act for he modern man
He stands tall while we bow down
He receives all the praise
All for an act that he only gives halfway
Because it's all
"On your knees"
"**** my ****"
"Don't be a tease"

*** is a privilege for those with a Y chromosome
So that they can stare while we cover up
So they can **** while we remain chaste
So they can stand over our broken bodies
Whilst we crumble from within

And I'm so tried
Tried of the ***** looks
Tired of the names
Tired of being a salve to this society
Tired of the image of man dictation how I feel
Tired of everything that's wrong with ***  

We deserve to **** just as much as you
And **** we will
Because we don't need you permission to love our bodies
And someday we will learn that
And on that day you will have to learn to share
Share your precious *** with the new modern woman

At first the bell rattled,
Then it died.
Combed four lines –
The verse spread.

What's a half verse?
Neither you nor me.
In four folded newspaper –
In half.

Traditions are not respected.
Avant-garde.
On energy drinks wondering.
Long live cynicism.

The old believers overlooked,
Hightech's here.
Digitized watercolors,
Take the check.

Respectful message.
I'm too nice.

Flirty message.
I'm too aggressive.

Long, descriptive message.
I'm too wordy.

Short, succinct message.
I'm too boring.

I hope you understand this message.

Personal intrigue can get
one entangled with another,
I'm so pretty, don’t do it to me,
you’ll leave, can’t keep up,
cause I’m contraband, so you’ll
find another, latch onto them,
cause their in pain.
You go tell someone, rub my tummy
get your fix.

Marble skin,
Sculpted clutch,

Solid and tender,
To the touch.

Depth of character,
Length of reason,

A modern day Greek,
In exactly his season.