#id
I'd love to be able to retire
without Putin setting fire
to the world and all we know
from his bunker in Moscow
not to hear the heavenly choir
from a world left in a mier
as climate change abounds
our stupidity astounds
and how can there be no work
in the dark those millions lurk
but with millions with no jobs
and politicians with big gobs
nobody's paying tax
'chance for pension's looking lax...
but I'd love to be able to retire
in a place - somewhere to aspire
kids not armed with knives
but with skills to build their lives
so world wait 'til I retire
with my wife; we'll never tire
down in Cornwall having fun
our life's labours having done
and when our days run out
we together at rest no doubt
and with Putin awaiting his grave
and the climate yet to save
and politics still in a mess
and "AI" our God: I guess
and no jobs at all are left
...we won't feel bereft!
Dec 10, 2025
Dec 10, 2025 at 8:48 AM UTC
With our implant ID, we delete all the blood,
We delete all the love, it’s easy and just…
With our implant ID,
We stop you from having thoughts that might make you want to threaten or run…
With our implant ID,
We believe in nurture, safer spaces for all of us to answer…
With our implant ID, we see you scatter - so we pick you up and put you into one collage that flatters…
With our implant ID, we just believe in brilliance - no more no less, tapping out is hideous…
With our implant ID, we believe that:
We were all born like this… in one name - no unique amber flame ingrained, no wild, radical claim to fame; our curiosity should all be plain… science has been re-serviced - and we’re here to serve its purpose…
Nov 2, 2025
Nov 2, 2025 at 8:38 AM UTC
a space to breathe – my ID is just a membership card
for the club of my nationality. rationally detailed;
but the details of it aren’t the details of my life
my identity formed in numbers, letters, and regional
placement – a birth verification code into a nameless reality;
social norms, laws to conform, my legitimacy by roadblocks
that is confirmed… how I wish it said I love to write poems
that I'm insecure of my self image in the mirror sometimes,
that ageing with grace, is more of a reminder of all the things
I wish I had done at a younger age – a collection of my desires
and experiences; the love I have to give, love I hope to one
day receive, all the places I hope to dream, a place…
sigh,
_a space to breathe._
Jan 9, 2025
Jan 9, 2025 at 3:35 AM UTC
id was created
by ego go figure just
a fell ghost to blame
Nov 27, 2024
Nov 27, 2024 at 7:42 PM UTC
i forgot my phone
i feel lost: because i lost
my identity
Sep 11, 2021
Sep 11, 2021 at 11:13 PM UTC
I had no idea
to call you back
when I lost everything
from my eyes sight.
But I want to get a help.
Apr 14, 2021
Apr 14, 2021 at 5:19 AM UTC
It begins as a tingling in my legs,
unpleasant like something squirmy trying to get out, something huger than my skin, wriggling, bursting to get free.
Without ceremony it spreads, bulging in my chest, prickles poking through my shoulder blades. Suppressing only makes it worse, I need to run, to fly, to breathe-
"What's wrong?" you ask.
I cannot answer, it is taking all my
willpower not to scream, or punch an
innocent bystander. Would I? Whether I would or not I've never found out,
I just leave.
"I love you," you say. I still cannot reply, the tears have been melting my face, but now they trickle down shiny scales.
External sensations have become
insensible, overpowered by the
overwhelming rage of barely managed fire within. The sharpness of my teeth meets an unfeeling leathery lip.
I go downstairs and leave the building. I don’t know if I remembered my keys.
I run
just as reptilian wings free themselves from my back, they flutter, stretch out wide at last.
I'm free,
but I still want this thing inside me, this thing that now is me, to leave. I am ashamed of it, afraid of its newness and my inability to control it.
It's happier now--
in the open air where it can thrash about without restraint. I let it, no longer worried it will lash out at something or someone breakable.
We fly far and long, my arms and lungs ache, but still the fire burns in my whole body waiting to be unleashed.
We soar, sore and angry until suddenly I'm alone again.
I look down but I don't need to look to know the scales are gone. My lip feels soft again beneath my rounded teeth. The wings still flap but gentler now, quietly bringing me back to the ground then softly folding and
painlessly absorbing back into my
shoulders.
I head home.
Sep 2, 2020
Sep 2, 2020 at 6:32 PM UTC
ID has lost her identity
There is no more sense of me.
The world's turned scary and dark
Once bright, now, not even a spark
Lyme seems to be the cause
My life interrupted, on full pause
Fear holds me prisoner all the time
Is it mental illness or is it Lyme
So many years so many tears
So many threats so many texts
Turn the light back on to my life
I've endured over 4 years of strife
God see me, release me, set me free
From pain and sameness beautiful tree
A professor's brain gone insane
It is cruel, ironic, and will not wane
I could never have envisioned this hell
A book to be written, stories to tell
Finally...committed, will be its name
Perhaps it is only myself I have to blame.
I don't want to die. I want to live.
There is little left for others to give.
It is up to me to reclaim an identity
Super ID crushed and I'll let it be.
Aug 11, 2020
Aug 11, 2020 at 11:41 PM UTC
after all's been said
and done
you’re the only one who got it.
How's that feel?
Jul 28, 2020
Jul 28, 2020 at 1:15 AM UTC
As I sit listless,
Alongside the river supreme,
Silent stars gently rise above me,
Kissing the clouds with reckless abandon,
I watch the light bleed and create individual paintings,
As if the heavens were but one giant brush,
Though guided by luck and not creativity,
It seems it doesn't matter either way.
All things are connecting,
Dissected by interchanging strings and correcting,
Paths that most others would not take,
That wakes and creates an empty covered-grounding,
This is what we dream of and must make.
A selfish soliloquy that was written in haste,
Left a bitter taste from the poor and hollow remarks it made,
But it spilled out in every direction anyway,
Until the world left a cloak and dagger in it's wake.
The sunshine blasts my eyes and I am startled by reflections,
Memories of the dreams that we shared that night,
Our children are the thoughts that now follow us,
The remnants of a dignified trip into our own minds,
Alongside the river supreme,
In the shadow of our collected consciousnesses.
Jul 10, 2020
Jul 10, 2020 at 5:41 AM UTC
How I'd like to
catch your nightmares
with my bare hands
and put them away
out of your reach.
How I'd love to
take away your insecurities
and replace them
with the wonderful thoughts
I have about you.
How I desire to
rip out your frustrations
and make you smile endlessly
maybe then you will see
how beautiful you are.
Feb 26, 2020
Feb 26, 2020 at 4:59 PM UTC
Uncomfortable
Be it called by my own name
I must reply now
Not in haste or anger still
But in active truth most kind
Jan 16, 2020
Jan 16, 2020 at 6:51 PM UTC
Beautiful Sylvain valleys and grassy savannas sooth my soul,
As here within my compact brain-cave
My mind wanders
Though a Multiverse
Of Realms.
From unfathomable gorges and deep down oceans
Up to soaring skies,
My inner eyes take in
Vistas of Infinity.
Imagination has no limits
Being a blessing and a curse.
Endless dreams of gold and honey
Opposed by fears of monstrous evils
Too horrific to ponder here.
My Id keeps churning up all manner of memories
And creations of the brain,
While in the background
Music plays
Punctuated only
By my Inner Voice.
Words, words keep welling up
From subliminal springs
Deep within my head.
Words, images, sounds
Feelings, tastes and smells,
Reality processed and reformed.
Reality recreated indeed
In finest detail,
A confusion of sights and sounds.
Give me those balmy days,
High in the hills
And low on the plains.
Let me bask in glorious sunshine,
Take a slumberous siesta
Then quaff that golden nectar:
Any brew will do.
Lets be kings and queens
Of the poetic landscape
Enjoying all
That The Muses
Will sing.
Paul Butters
© PB 26\6\2019.
Jun 26, 2019
Jun 26, 2019 at 12:18 PM UTC