It is the thing we create from within.
From the depth of our soul
Where our passion does live.
The place we seek to find the unseen,
Those things that are seen
Within our minds and our dreams,
The things that others have not yet seen.

A vision where those can gaze and be free,
By a master at play while capturing his dreams
Upon the canvas where the art lives and breathes
Away from other influence, that he may have seen.

The art does not copy the others of known.
Instead, each piece is the artist's very own.
By bracing his feet upon the ground where he stands,
The art comes from within, from the master’s own hands.

Are we all fake?
Are we all getting baked?
Are we all looking?
Are we all searching?

For a simple solution
To shake the focus from this illusion
Finally looking up to the sky
Stars shining and twinkling in your eyes

Or is it just the glare
Pining over your cell phone in despair
Comparing yourself to others
Moments that look like perfection

Also lead us in a misdirection
Down a path of self doubt
All because of some dude's clout
Putting the most in every post

To answer all the above questions
We be searching for the real
And be looking to get baked ;)
At least that's this ****** dude's opinion

An app for this
An app for that
An app even,
To feed your cat.

Mesmerised by mobiles
All these zombies shuffle along
Nearly getting run over
So internet throng.

Scanning with their debit cards
No time for cash
But I don’t trust these things
With their laser flash.

All this social media
Where is it going?
So much information
Toing and froing.

Good to keep in touch
And so easy to Google
Want to make a noise?
It’s better than a bugle.

Better check in on Facebook
So you all know where I am
Time to check my emails
To bin the latest scam.

But whatever happened to talking?
It’s now a forgotten art!
The cyber revolution:
This is just the start.

Paul Butters

© PB 19\3\22.

Consuming useless videos and content
Alone in my room
To distract from the racing and hurtful
Thoughts about you
And it always works for a moment
Or a minute or more
Until the intrusive thoughts come back,
Barging down my door
I put it back up, re-***** the hinges
And shut it
And lay back down to consume more
Mindless content

Social Media World

Waiting, longing, wanting
Never finished, never complete
Silence makes our ears ring
Always busy, looking to compete

Social media world
Everyone and no one
Never alone, your life is unfurled,
Tap, swipe, post, I’m done..

Never done, never finished
Your social media masterpiece
Do we leave ourselves diminished?
Even though we constantly increase ...

Increase and build, our profiles grow,
Piece by piece an ever changing image
So fast, so rapid, makes me want to go slow
In my mind I pretend and try to envisage

And yet I’m entirely torn
A hypocrite through and through
My very own image I’ll adorn
My eyes, my mouth and what about this hairdo?

I love it and I question it,
I label myself, but why?
Basic, white, “this is lit”
I’ve found that social media high

Parents worry, kids rebel,
Are they happy !?
Perhaps time will tell
For me, it’s the content that’s ******

Stop seeking happiness,
It’s not an end game
Stop talking mindfulness
Whilst putting others to shame

Let’s stop talking the talk
Preaching and self indulging
Watching and waiting like a hawk,
A lifetime wasted, wishing

But embrace the conversations!
Open dialogue; debating, discussing,
Thoughts, ideas and revelations,
Platforms for all, we could do anything!

Two people, faces on
A screen, and two
Voices telling us how we should be
What’s new in the world, why we should
Avoid doing this, avoid doing that
What’s in, what’s not, what we should all do best

I see some nods
I see disapproval, approval
I see shifty glances in eyes
I see mouths start to move and talk
I see phones, many phones
I see the consumerism kicking in
I see unwavering doubt

I see lies, a mirage
I see the contours of deception
I see material eyes and material hearts
I see heavy minds and empty heads
I see people wondering about how they should look instead
I see people dreaming of a better life
I see people forgetting their own beautiful life
I see insecurity, stinging idiosyncrasy
I see flaming ******* media hypocrisy
I see romanticization of all things ugly
I see faces that look so young and glossy
I see big lights that cancel out all the imperfections
I see makeup that covers all the unwanted
I see ivory and I see bone
I see a curated life that I’ve never known
I see this image stitched up
And I never see it become unsewn

My words don’t have arms big enough to hold these great and growing feelings.
They stay in my insides
Crowding out
Grinding down the subtleties
That reside near the edges in the used to be,
that cushiony soft berm.

It was comfortable in here once

The Room for Interpretation,

now lost,
now over-full,
balloon-bright and tumbling one voice and many into and out of supremacy.

These great and growing feelings
and my insufficient words
that fall from me one-by-one into place,
the thudding truth in basic blue.