#regression
To wake with a guilty arm
But an innocent mind
Facts of which lack any reason of time
Yet, it’s still a path in our minds
For he loved, adored, and cherished
Was warm, soft and kind
Quiet with words and steps
But, hugs so tight
Hearts were left quenched with words of mime
His curiosity grew vast!
You always found his eyes parted from grass
For he adored the blue sky
His ambitions reached far beyond space and time
The sun called him his friendly star
His own rays cast out all shadow and dark
For he was of pure and sun
Yet, he still changed, split to crumb
A quiet snarl from the dark of ***
This creature sat and brewed
All of his shorts and weaknesses, it knew
The entity that hangs the child that bloomed
The monster that kills all who assumes
A fragile grit with a courageous groom
Teeth and arms with reddish hues
Breath stenched with rotten doom
For how did this monster rise
While keeping all in the blind
It started in a simple bind
But he let go of being kind
To all, his monster is him
Yet if you knew
existed an innocence before it
No one would assume
To which it protected the child it held
But, this ravenous reptile said “I could do it just as well”
The boy went to bed
Awakened was the monster instead
Apr 7
Apr 7, 2026 at 2:06 PM UTC
stepping back through the looking glass,
you might like the delusion,
but you don't like the questions it asks.
this version is only appealing at night
with your eyes shut tight,
but it leaves no favourable impression
in the daylight.
you long for a moment that's long gone,
a solution to a problem that's unsolvable,
choking on your own metaphors
for a life you once knew, way before,
a perpetual cliffhanger
that leaves you waiting for more,
but you're already faced with an excess.
you don't want to go back,
you're just mesmerised by the allusion,
reaching out to you
through the looking glass.
Jul 16, 2025
Jul 16, 2025 at 4:22 AM UTC
some people will
tell you
to act your age
a being
who is ageless
in a temporary body
crying
because
she got lost
some can
go back
in time
to a place in their mind
when life was easy
when it didnt hurt
when they were happy
Mar 17, 2025
Mar 17, 2025 at 11:09 PM UTC
Could I have done more, yes
But I'm worn out at best
Sore by the pound and stressed
The more I try to get it back like before
The more I regress
I know the score,
I know what's in store,
What it is I'm in for
But sure,
Let's hear what YOU suggest?
©2024
Oct 16, 2024
Oct 16, 2024 at 8:05 PM UTC
Regression parading as tradition
Modernity rejected in culture at the end of history.
Echoes of innovation only linger in the technology
Of subscribed self-adulation,
Quench the thirst trap.
Drink until you drown in the sound of static.
The revolution won’t be televised
Everything’s a repeat, an omnibus of Section 25;
They’re gunning after the enemies of hegemony;
Fight it, resist it; the truth will be twisted
In the teeth of lobbied grins
So sing the populist nationalism anthem -
The only hit in the charts
That sustains the sycophancy of sentimentality.
Everything old, nothing new
To sedate the disenfranchised
Who can’t wait to see the day
Asylum seekers never know sanctuary.
Dec 26, 2023
Dec 26, 2023 at 3:24 PM UTC
I catch myself sulkin' in a dangerous headspace far to often
Hope fadin' to nothin' as I witness this slowly becomin' a trend
Does life's chokehold ever loosen?
Possibly but probably only after recordin' just one more win
Does the fall from grace to then through the bottom of my rock bottom ever soften?
How many of life's knockout blows to the chin can I take before smelling salts are no longer an option
They completely stop workin', then, try as you might I can no longer be woken but I'm not dreamin'
I hate to think it but is my inner peace destin to be found in a cheap coffin from some morbid discount bin
Only then activatin' when they set me in and my body begins the process of decomposin'
I'm not that lucky, I already know how it'll end
Only leads to a destination for those with the designation of unforgiven
Seems like I was made pre-broken but more often than not the why is an overpriced question, so it's rarely spoken
How is any of this benefital to my survival and progression towards a vaguely promised fairy tail endin'
Feels like regression made it it's mission to win the tug o war competition and it's lookin' like it did while barely tryin'
There's only so far I can bend, destined to give in, I'm sayin' when with a voice through a digital pen
Regardless who's payin' attention, wether anybody likes it or not there's no stoppin' or dodgin' what's comin'
If history's taught me anythin' it's that there's no way this isn't happenin', it's both out of my hands and out of the question
I won't beg you to listen, the dead end repetition has caused me to bail on even the lowest bar of expectation
I'm not strong enough to keep goin', I can no longer pretend, can't count on myself to treat myself like a friend
I've never known or at least have forgotten how to mend, now I'm the firey wreckage of a doomed hydrogen Zeppelin
A bad idea tried over and over again, full send, hand your beer to a friend, yeah, we all know that definition
I'm a multi fasited paradox, like water and oil mixin', or a Christian followin' what Jesus was actually teachin'
Good and evil coexistin' under the same skin so there's a constant battle ragin' within
Given advice but don't listen, cost of hate skyrocketin' but I'm buyin' in without even researchin'
Ignorin' every critical warnin' while needlessly explorin' the landmine riddled mess I'm in
My own reflection is a poor representation, I begin witnessin' the facade crackin' revealin' a twisted perfection
But perfection was never the requirement, but still a required lesson
I couldn't begin to tell you how many times I was a dollar short of payin' attention
Realization sets in mid tail spin, lost all sense of direction, my guidance system way overdue for an inspection
But once again no one gets in even though I'm desperately needin' a licensed technician
My problems baffle the best of list of repair men to the point they go searchin' out a new profession
I'm an occupational hazard, a coward, findin' the bad in every good situation, a magnet for confrontation
Then I start thinkin', maybe my malfunction is beyond repairin' so I focus in on my masks restoration
The projection of a sane person is important as to not draw attention to this infection of darkness that's spreadin'
An infestation of my past, present and future anxieties manafestin', fear on every station, runnin' into problems at every elevation
A hate hate relation, both comin' from and directed at the same person
Cursin' my own existence as every action taken to better this god forsaken life adaptation only sees the situation worsen
What's the solution? Where do I even begin lookin'? Is there a guide I could or should be followin'?
If I told you hope was taken all the way back before my creation I'm sure it'll have you thinkin' I must be mistaken
But I have no stake in or reason to lie, no exaggeration needed when the truth alone is so friggin frightenin'
Don't come a knockin', you wouldn't want me to invite you in, the den is set up like a ***** dungeon
Horrendous ***** happenin' within these walls, under my skin, you couldn't and shouldn't try to imagine
It'll break you down like a fraction, plus, I can't say that I can see the attraction
You're gonna have to come up with an explanation for that one again, start from the beginnin'
'Cause I thought I made the warnin' clear, extra bold between each quotation, reiderated in every caption
Let me give you some life changin' advice son, run, don't look back till you see kingdom come on the horizon
I'm not one to bet on, a hopeless lost cause, it'd do you well to move on
©2022
Sep 19, 2022
Sep 19, 2022 at 2:29 PM UTC
roaring beast. steam obsolete. i wish my hands. to see them fall apart. crackling dry. the crust in my eyes. moon oh please, let me be free, from this ******* heat 80 degrees. i thought i had grown, but it’s just the moss on the stone. my heart no longer beats with the rain. i just stay inside all day.
i look
her
in
the eyes
i see
no
reflection
i miss
the girl
i
used
to be
and if this is adult life
it would’ve been better to die
at seventeen
Jun 10, 2023
Jun 10, 2023 at 8:11 PM UTC
these days
looking around the globe
one might believe that we are traveling in time
just in the wrong direction
regression as progress
seems to be
the dominant notion of the day
creating wannabes in various disguises
populist czars, sultans, nationalists, dictators,
assorted self-appointed saviors
of their peoples’ wealth and health,
trumpeting fences, walls, tough immigration laws,
etc., etc.
to keep out and silence all those aliens
or invade their countries
and eliminate them
who otherwise are welcome
as our partners in the global trade
that seems to dominate the world of greed
so we can all be ourselves
whatever that might mean
claiming to solve the problems of tomorrow
with memories of yesterday
is not only hopeless but quite dangerous
do you remember
what that glorified past
actually was?
Mar 7, 2022
Mar 7, 2022 at 5:37 AM UTC
NOW LIFE’S GONNA BE DESPAIR
LIFE’S GONNA BE ****** AND FROZEN
LIFE’S GONNA NEVER BE HAPPY AGAIN
LIKE I HAD WHEN I WAS YOUNG
‘CAUSE I REGRET THE DECISION I’VE MADE
‘CAUSE I BROKE THE BRIDGES I BUILT
‘CAUSE I LEFT THE ONES I LOVED
WHICH DESTROYED MY FUTURE
AND STAINED MY BLOOD
I’M NOT THE ONE I WAS
OR I ASSUMED ME TO BE
I CAN’T LIVE HERE ANYMORE
I’M SO SURE AND I GUARANTEE
‘CAUSE IT’S IN MY ROOTS, IT’S IN MY VEINS
IT’S IN MY BLOOD, IT’S IN MY BRAIN
TO BE CARELESS, TO BE RECKLESS
TO DESTROY EVERYTHING, TO FINISH MYSELF
AND SO, I MISS MY BEST FRIEND I HAD
I MISS MY CHILDHOOD I PLAYED
I MISS THE FLASHBACKS I ADORE
WHEN LIFE WAS A PARTY TO BE THROWN
BUT THAT ALL WAS TWO YEARS BEFORE
May 17, 2021
May 17, 2021 at 9:43 PM UTC
In jolts my bones erupt,
shatter and realign within
flesh contorted,
waxen;
until amorphous I return,
to draw up the covers
of that old snakeskin.
Feb 15, 2021
Feb 15, 2021 at 4:20 PM UTC
Raised on vaccine
Children of the thorny hedgerows
Lines blur
Minds stir
But lungs breathe in the bloom
Raised on old wives tales
Children of the wide open sea
Sights clear
Horizon blue
But brain dead in the surf
There's strength in numbers
Once immunity is lost
So is hope
Feb 28, 2020
Feb 28, 2020 at 10:03 PM UTC
Society has crumbled,
The world has regressed,
Everyone is depressed,
Mentally jumbled.
We think we are above,
All of those dystopian stories,
That we don't fall in those categories,
But they fit like a glove.
Fahrenheit 451?
Who reads books anyway?
There is no keeping the media at bay,
Our screens are on all day!
Orwell's 1984?
Thanks to phones we have no privacy,
Everyone inflicts their own policy,
And agenda evermore.
The Giver?
Our joy and suffering,
Are ****** away by our constant screening,
And pleasures made to deliver.
Ready Player One?
We turn to escapism,
So we can run,
From activism, racism, and fascism.
We think we are above,
All of those dystopian stories,
That we don't fall in those categories,
But they fit like a glove.
Nov 4, 2019
Nov 4, 2019 at 2:07 PM UTC
As the worlds gets smaller these days,
The distance grows.
As life is being made easier,
Why do the feelings get harder?
Why is it that when we look at each other,
That the the eyes are not the thing we look at?
What is progression if regression is it's consequence?
Sep 8, 2019
Sep 8, 2019 at 2:15 PM UTC
the razor edge
of living sharp and free
is when the roses lose their petals,
the thorns are all i can see
Mar 11, 2019
Mar 11, 2019 at 5:08 PM UTC
lately, the anxiety keeps settling in my teeth,
setting them on edge:
an unwelcome guest spitting scornful jest
to cause my brain to second guess
every thought i thought wasn't a mess,
exposing my mind -- a train wreck
i scruff my tongue against them
in the hopes of forcing the enamel clean
but this apprehension's made of harder stuff
that even molars couldn't crush;
the muscles of my jaw clench
their unhappiness, an endless throb
of raw numbness, itching to be expelled
through sound or sick or movement
excuses to flee, suddenly,
enunciated by the bitter desperation
to expel what words fail to express;
there's no sudden obligation,
no needs to address. i'm just trying
hard to outrun the foam of fruitless frets
fizzing into overflow, stomach acid upset
Mar 4, 2019
Mar 4, 2019 at 7:59 PM UTC
Creeping crawling
Waiting stalking...
You sit there in wait
As if a planned date
Of which, I do not know
Why are you staring little crow?
You sit and watch beating hearts
'Til the harvest starts
I almost tune out the evil laugh
That you bellow from deep within your wrath
And almost forget where you reside
That is, within me, deep inside
Your jar of souls collected slowly
You take your time being unholy
You go into hibernation away from the watchful cavists
You do not mind though, for winters calm brings great Spring harvests
You feast and feast devouring bit by bit
You take piece by piece encouraging me to submit
Fighting the pain,
Fighting in vein...
Tearing me down, nonstop
As if I your crop
Little crow caws in joyous evil song
Release me from your grasp, I beg all night long
You come and go
And reap what I sow
Taking my strength and will to fight
Chomping down into flesh throughout the night
Released once more, you hide away again
I almost forget, but you have written it in permanent pen
You wrote "Never forget, sweet child, I am you keeper.
Sincerely,
The Soul Reaper."
Jan 10, 2019
Jan 10, 2019 at 10:42 AM UTC
I was a gift upon the heart of
soiled regression.
Never one to look a gift in the mouth of fallen
promises.
For the decaying leaves
left before me,
were not for lost causes.
But fertiliser of new reflections.
Jan 5, 2019
Jan 5, 2019 at 12:40 PM UTC
she kissed her knees
waiting for the wind
to take her slowly away.
yet the hands of time
were far too patient
making her stay.
she was in pain
and way too
lonely
and yet
she never wanted company
just the storm
and she
doesn't deserve it:
neither the rainfall
nor this draught.
she kissed her knees
and whispered
out of new words to pray
"please."
she barely even muttered
"just take me today."
hands pressed tight together
and lips trembling shut
kissing her
wet and salted knees
with her back against the wall
facing a hard place
a dead end
to a thousand feet freefall
and rock bottom...
to dust.
she kissed her knees
with closed eyes
and an open wrist...
waiting for her tears
to slowly drown her----
with one more
shattered bottle
beside her
and one less
plea to say.
"just take me away."
she kissed her knees
and she hugged her legs.
all soaked in her own waste
and her own faults
she nods her head
totally out of lies to
chant herself asleep
until she gnawed herself
downwards
six feet deep.
she never became a
failed adult
because life blew up
in her face so suddenly
all she is
is a shattered child
waiting for life
to spew her out.
she kissed her knees...
Jun 13, 2018
Jun 13, 2018 at 1:02 PM UTC
If you will indulge me, a Story for you:
"Ending"
I’m safely tucked up in bed now. So frail. When I think how fat I used to be. But I’m very, very old. Might even die tonight, in my sleep. Can hear the wind howling outside.
It’s not such a bad place this. The carers look after me well. If I’m lucky they will wheel me into the garden again tomorrow. Hope that wind dies down and the sun shines. Where am I? Can’t recall the name. This Dim Enta thing. So tired now. So tired…
“And wake!”
What? Where am I? On my back! Ceiling. Face! Doctor Sanders!”
“It’s over, Krol, welcome back.”
I remember. Doctor Sanders. I’ve been hypnotised, regressed to a former life. Lived that whole life! And now I’m awake!
Me: “Did I just die there?”
Dr. Sanders: “Yes Krol, in your sleep. Or at least the person you were died in his sleep… But did you get the full life experience this time?”
Me: “Just about, Bob. I can remember back to being about three. My parents, our little dog, a baby sister. Playing with a wooden train or something that you could ride in. But it seems I died in my sleep…”
Bob: “How far back in time was this?”
Me: “I was born mid-twentieth century, not long after the Second World War…”
Bob: “Fascinating. Better get you into Debriefing, before you forget it all.”
Me: “Yeah. It sure was a long life. Lots of history for you. I can’t get over that that was me!”
Bob: “You’ll soon adjust, Krol.”
Me: “That Death thing was scary, Bob. I was afraid of ‘dying’, as they called it, for most of my life. Thank goodness we found a cure.”
Bob: “Yes Krol, things were really rough back then. But come on, let’s get that report of yours done…”
Paul Butters
© PB 13\6\2018.
Jun 13, 2018
Jun 13, 2018 at 6:19 AM UTC
Just one
Just one
But I refuse,
Just one, come on
If it helps you can’t lose,
Just one I say
Needing a release,
Just one I do;
One works a treat.
Just one I say,
One when I’m low,
Just one when I don’t know where I should go,
One when I’m crying
One when you frown
One when I know I’m not wanted around,
One for each argument
One for each ‘I need time’
One for each part of me I now wish weren’t mine.
Feb 28, 2018
Feb 28, 2018 at 12:30 PM UTC