"daymare" poems
While I don't suffer, or suffer from
Normal, eurocentrism, northern malaise,
Nor, academia, a blood disease,
I do mind manners in which doings
And not doings are done or aren't,
As it brings life and light to them,
Or it doesn't, for those most attached
To living or dying are most closely death.
This while acid rain from your closed eye
And an acre of rainforest falls each second.
Thus Earth's tears bleed for all you see is gray.
As machinations of travailing winds,
Miraging, veil, mirror narcissistic nihlistic
False-ego as self, do "..we(e),.." evince to be?
A republican chides, "put another poet
On the barbie", his idea of conservation.
Prump has had his exec. branch criminally:
Edit the official video and script of his
Helsinki news conference where tutin was asked,
"Did you help prump become president and did you
Have your gov't do the same", with tutin's answers,
"Yes I did, yes, I did..." + premeditatedly separate
Latino families at the border to torture them,
Dictate that "if they want to see their kids again
They have to sign away their rights and leave".
He just said, "don't believe what you hear, see",
Almost a quote from Orwell's '1984', in which
Is written, "this dictate of the gov't was most
Important of all, don't believe what your ears
Hear or your eyes see". Since altright universe
Invaders were installed in the Blackhouse we've
Known things will only get worse, what other
Reason could his "military parade in 11-18" be for
Except military rule, will the American daymare end?
Aug 24, 2018
Aug 24, 2018 at 7:13 AM UTC
The three compassions
came to me
in a moment of silence
during a dream.
Not a daymare
Not a nightmare.
But in a moment of
rare and splendid peace.
It was laid out
for me
in a single distinct vision.
Compassion for self
Compassion for others
and the undefinable innocence of
all existence.
I tried so hard
to do so good
in everything
I said and did
but
faltering, fumbling,
obsessed, and human flawed.
I had much to learn
about
acceptance,
forgiveness
and the live and learn.
Perhaps this compassion
never comes
except in moments
of melancholy
on a foggy Christmas morning.
The fire needed tending
the warmth of the glow was fading.
I looked into her eyes
I looked into their eyes
and where I looked
I saw that with a look
I turned others
into
objects, chairs, tables, rocks.
I saw a different glow
the touch of that
innocent continuity
in all of us
fragile I'ness
suspended in a holistic whole
of
joy, suffering
peace and fear
connection and love
shining glowing
light of life
within the darkness
of the universe.
The third compassion
is rather odd
a mandala.
Extending out in concentric circles
encompassing the
fantastical, magical
workings of the universe
the vast expanse
of space and time.
And my momentarily
conscious knowledge
of my glowing light
and my place
in
now.
I saw the temporary tenderness
of all existence
my heart opened
the fire surged
on this foggy
humboldt
Christmas sunrise...
Dec 25, 2013
Dec 25, 2013 at 11:26 AM UTC
Merely a silhouette with its head cocked to the side, arms reaching out, stretching through the majesty in knives, and stabbing spots into my eyes.
I rise to burn
Feel to learn
For the better of my vendettas
Steady hands
On humbled umbrellas
Of sedatives
And other derivatives
Of my dissatisfaction
In lacking patience , I repaint the pavement, and face it after lacing spaceships with the enslavement of my basements, and place it in my heart.
Spiraling in slimy things
In lucid dreams
I'm asleep
Walking amongst the dead
My demon brings
The corpse of kings
In sheets
From battered beds
I am said
To have slithered
With the best of men
Drained and bested
In the molested
Ingesting of entire
Settlements
Not to mourn
As i warned
In subtle hints
Most would whimper
As i rinsed my hands
Of this
Varmint ****
And moved on with it
I get what i got coming
As im drumming
The anthem
And humming
With phantoms
Tandem
To alchemical
Dreams
Singing
In romantic strings
Scrutinizing
My advertising
Of fiends
Leaning in
To scream
I awake unclean
Seeing
Differently
Than before
Jan 14, 2013
Jan 14, 2013 at 1:19 PM UTC
Because she could not see—
Song in flower, light in lovers abed,
Dream unfolding as we touched,
Because her great beauty was gifted
It was unfelt, undeserved, shunned,
Making her even more irresistible.
Because I could not hold on to self,
Beside such dream, lost to my hands
As prints clutched into the ruin dark
Of her indifference, I made peace
With subjugation and humilities riven
Out of soul and flesh and hollow being.
Because we were unknowing, each
A foil unto ourselves as we cried—
This then was daymare riding in sun,
Twin delusions in oft reign of blood,
O what stories we both shall die to tell,
How the itch of desire scratches bare
Whole psyche as it writhes in a shell.
Jul 2, 2015
Jul 2, 2015 at 1:26 PM UTC
I have for you a brand new word:
Of “Nightmare” we all have heard,
But now I give you
“Daymare”.
Yes, a day of Daymares –
Those little nagging Anxieties
That grow to deep Depression.
Can I pay my bills?
Will I pass my exams?
What will people think (of me)?
We all have had those Daymare days
When all goes wrong
And nothing will go right.
Bad days
Like when my parents died,
Nervous breakdowns,
Running over a cat
And a squirrel.
Fillings falling out.
Lunch is burnt.
We’re flooded!
And many more.
Times of sadness, anger and frustration.
Times to cry.
Times when it’d be better
To Die.
So, here I give you “Daymare”:
A word I hope
You seldom have to use.
Paul Butters
Nov 24, 2015
Nov 24, 2015 at 6:37 AM UTC
I loved you so
White as the swan
In purest snow
*O white love
I will hover high
Let me sail above*
I loved you true
Real as sky, oak on hill
Dancing in blue
*O white love
Sing me eternal
In healing flame*
I lost my one self
In the narrow straights
Sea depths, outer shelfs
*O white love
I remember our face
Prideful without name*
I wanted to wake
But was drowned in dream
A daymare you would nae break
Jul 1, 2016
Jul 1, 2016 at 2:52 AM UTC
Alone in a forest
of dying trees
the scent of wet
decomposing leaves
Morose moose head
Cut at the neck
I can see your years
like tree rings
Body
Split in two
Down the center
At the Great Divide
Flies boil up from your flesh.
You were fuzzy once.
I can't hold my breath.
Putrescence fills my
lungs with rotting death
and my stomach turns
upside down.
Stumbling to fresh air
I trip
over your grinning, toothless
nearly human face,
spurting seemingly
ceaseless blood from
its masticated mind.
It is only attached to the torso.
I can see where your legs should be
and your are trying to drag yourself
through the dirt towards me
clawing with your
twisted fingers.
Trailing entrails,
half emptied.
Fully feeling.
I'm lying in bed.
Sunken eyes wide open.
All I can smell is rotting flesh.
I'm peeking down my hallway now,
and I see many mangled hands,
reaching from every doorway.
Burned, bruised, and beaten.
I sprint down the passage
frantically throwing
pentagrams
like ninja stars
through thresholds.
I hear sizzling like
morning roast
drips onto coffee burners,
and I explode into the kitchen.
"Good morning! Coffee is ready,"
Mother greets me, smiling.
The hallway is
dead silent.
Oct 30, 2014
Oct 30, 2014 at 6:49 AM UTC
Time
They say it comes
They say it goes
They say it takes but always gives
I've walked the weeping sands
of seven lonely seasons
My conscience seared in strands
by full-level demons
Time
They say it flies
They say it flows
They say it begins but never ends
Invariably I've dreamt
of the inevitable end of days
My threadbare thoughts adrift
inside the daymare haze
Time
It cries memories
Time
It fogs the mirror
Time
When wiped away
keeps getting ever-clearer...
This life is a vapor
This life is a vapor
This life is a vapor
This life is a vapor
This life is no bang
It's merely a whimper
Nov 14, 2017
Nov 14, 2017 at 11:39 AM UTC
An intensely timely attempt to right a Ship of State,
The U.S. Constitution, from a Supremacy Court decision,
'Citizen's United', wrought by it's being dragged
Across the Plymouth Rox, that landed on US, 'cause
We didn't land on it, by the tug, the S.S. Tea Party,
And it's ignoble leader, not ebony, but ivory, working
Together in perfect harmony, merx for more to mercs for war,
Amongst the 21 flavors of, in this 'baskin and robbins' of
Supremacy, the united **** of assassins, through the lack
Of 'separation of church and state', demanded in it's
Fallen noble leaves, the Founding Document of this great
Nation, that actual religion of the bi-headed false gods
Of mammon, wealth, avarice, and mollock, extreme violence,
Grinding up seed, exemplified in king george and his ****
Cheney's, along with the republican conspiracies' elite's,
Purposeful non-prevention of the attacks on 9-11 and their
Unnecessary, "unending war on (supposed) terrorism", the
Coup that divided a people, dictating they choose exigency
Over humanity, continually, which set-up the invisible coup
Elections of 11-16, it's installation of Trumpler, etc.,
Not being separated from the state, being sociologically
Programmed into everyone, by the corporate structure's
Convolution's devolutionary direction, undoing Evolution,
Is practiced by almost all behind the masks of supposed:
Christianity, atheism, Hinduism, science, art, Wicca, etc.,
Possessing everybody in that form of self-possession,
And we need to be exorcised from it before we can
Again exercise our responsibility, necessary to again
Realize it's Siamese twin sister, freedom, for the
Intellect can't lead, as the life doesn't follow.
Then illimitable, indivisible you, walking in nature's
Balance giving back to nature's abundance can remember:
Compliance is suicide, we're defiance; if you're not
Taking bullets you're making them; an injustice to any
Is an injustice to all, and if it isn't addressed
Individually, it becomes a global injustice as well;
"Be the change you wish to see in the world", "the root
Of all oppression lies in (supposed) science", Gandhi;
Materialism isn't, abolish scarcity based global fossil fuel
Slavery by using abundant renewable energy, now. reality
Jan 13, 2018
Jan 13, 2018 at 8:07 PM UTC
Another failure?
Sure
Stack it here,
On the left shoulder
The right shoulder
Is occupied by a boulder
Otherwise what do I care
Just next in the long line,
A tether,
To the newest nightmare
That'll transition seamlessly,
I swear,
Seemingly out of thin air
Into a more current,
Living daymare
I know the routine
But you can see the ware
You can count every tare
I can't hide the despair,
It shows up everywhere
I wasn't taught how to prepare
But have noticed each and every year,
Yeah after year,
Less and less people care
About that detail in particular
So I run perpendicular
To my failure
Maybe forever
Especially if I have to be
My own savior
©2024
Aug 30, 2024
Aug 30, 2024 at 4:10 PM UTC
Sitting in traffic
Trying not to break
Painfully sorting through
The decisions I must make.
Out of nowhere, sounds I hear.
Louder they become.
It sounds like ****** pain and fear
All rolled into one.
I cannot fathom where on earth
The screams originate.
I look to the right, the left and ahead
Where people congregate.
I'm instantly there amidst the crowd
Their faces full of dread.
There, lying in a sea of blood
A young girl is obviously dead.
Her face is swollen; her hair is tangled
One foot is missing a shoe.
Her arm is twisted; her body mangled
Her chest is black and blue.
Suddenly, I started to cry
As I finally began to see
The screams, the fear and the blood were mine.
The girl laying there was me.
Apr 28, 2013
Apr 28, 2013 at 1:53 AM UTC
sweet flag you are acorus!
you are kori you are the
stalk of the eyes and
calamus oh the core of us
is sipping smoke of
sweet flag
you the reed that
drips sap for my
darkening pupils
you are the line
and the dot
you are the pupil
growing upward
you are the reed that writes
and it's nice to meet you.
mmm
oh dream you are joy,
sweet music and
a whispered scream
nightharrowing daymare
exploding into sparrow
Oh, hello, crow!
You are trans*
You are transforming
You are going across
that land and you are
ab domus! you are
ab fabulous!
You are ab a more amor!
You are becoming,
becoming amor!
You are becoming more!
Always and all ways
you are transcending...
at every now you are
ascending
and even
in descent you are
taking a walk on the y axis
going across the x axis
you are walking down
the infinite spokes
that spin from your soul,
and you are a
medicine wheel,
no, a medicine orb
with spokes like
vines that split like
veins de la vie and
it's la vie en rose
it is blood red lifewine
tendrils of life
and all the lifelines on
your palms
drip vino de vie
they are stark
strokes of scarlet
gushing truth
in vino veritas
in vino veritas
my body is spirit anyway
and my spirit is smoking calamus
Feb 27, 2015
Feb 27, 2015 at 10:45 AM UTC
I don't care,
I'M A LIER
I can't care
Not about who or about what
Just when and where
Lurking like a jump scare
Stimulating neck hair
Never taught to prepare
Never thought I'd get here
Stuck in my own layer
Of an inception daymare
Not much darker after the lackluster transfer to nightmare
It just goes to show the **** show goes on long past forever
A morbid trend setter
Left wishing I was a quitter
I'M A LIER
No need to wish, it's a clear no brainer
And wicked obvious, at least from what I remember
Though I know I don't remember a lot but whatever
©2024
May 2, 2024
May 2, 2024 at 2:26 PM UTC
1.
stirring the coffee.
caffeine and tears.
2.
ragged by his weighty hands
ravaged
3.
daymare on countermelody
cushioned lava mumbling
4.
feverish harmonic echoes
of dying forevers
5.
a smoke. the dark.
he stumbles.
6.
sipping the coffee.
nodding: dark alley.
Nov 20, 2014
Nov 20, 2014 at 4:50 PM UTC
Because she could not see—
Song in flower, light in lovers abed,
Dream unfolding as we touched,
Because her great beauty was gifted
It was unfelt, undeserved, shunned,
Making her even more irresistible.
Because I could not hold on to self,
Beside such dream, lost to my hands
As prints clutched into the ruin dark
Of her indifference, I made peace
With subjugation and humilities riven
Out of soul and flesh and hollow being.
Because we were unknowing, each
A foil unto ourselves as we cried—
This then was daymare riding in sun,
Twin delusions in oft reign of blood,
O what stories we both shall die to tell,
How the itch of desire scratches bare
Whole psyche as it writhes in a shell.
Jan 16, 2016
Jan 16, 2016 at 3:10 PM UTC
Moments are separated only by a mixture of hues.
Colours, spellbinding, fixating my mind on something else. Something new.
Bells ring out. The wind, it howls. The waves crash off the shore line.
The cold air creeps through the cold-bridge beneath my window, and slithers up my spine.
He said to hold onto these thoughts, these visions, and never doubt.
But, there's always a but, nothing stops there. That's what this is all about.
Something lurks behind all of those smiles, under that strength, that ability to stay calm.
It chases you, running around between those hues. Metaphoricalised. Causing the sweat in your palms.
And it haunts you in your day time. It robs you of your hours. Ones that could be spent in truth, but no.
You don't surrender up these thoughts. Why would you? They're doubts, they're lies. They are fear. That's why the hues still glow.
It pushes, and pushes you, until the hues are ceased of their beauty, leaving only that constant fear.
Fear, wilderness, stress. Your slumber is but comfortable. And once again you awaken from your nightmare.
It breaks into your hours and steals away your days. It conquers your rest. It darkens the hues, and leaves but light.
You twist and turn, you're struggling in the confined space in which you're in. Dark, small and tight.
The incandescence of light from the sky should illuminate the dark. I'm sick of the artificialness!
But I know for sure my words would only come out wrong if I confess..
I've decided to hide it away, the truth I mean. Although I know I shouldn't.
I know I could go on pretending forever. But, then again, I couldn't.
Mar 5, 2015
Mar 5, 2015 at 6:17 PM UTC
My sleep is crowded
With recurring nightmares
Of failing Grade 12 French;
Standing naked and exposed;
Seeing the one you love
Love someone else;
The anxiety of an empty back pocket;
Swerving cars,
Crap falling from planes;
The inevitable chase and stumbling
Just ahead of the apocolypse.
The morning daymare news
Is definitely more frightening,
The end times more certain.
Jan 16, 2016
Jan 16, 2016 at 10:32 AM UTC
her legs went cold
in a flash
as did i
with my hands.
i couldn’t keep her,
my palms were sweaty and i
dreamt of letting her go.
a daymare so subtle and significant..
drops of blood over my eyelashes
coagulating and soothing ontop
only to seep into my irises
when i opened my eyes again.
through the red,
i still saw her.
May 10, 2013
May 10, 2013 at 8:44 PM UTC
Dear wordvango,
" the night before " Christmas eve
i got this dream of mine so illusive
so clear as if i am awake,, i am so afraid that time but it was not a cold nightmare
although i am sleeping, my pen was collaborating to Paul Butters' poem entitled " daymare "
" the chef " (ang punong tagapagluto)
in an exhibit... there was this---dish entry
it has been sabotage unintentionally
because of that incident, i have my query
who is really affected? the one who tasted it or the contemporary?
because if in each every scoop
has fright threatening just like a loop
what's therein on on self vitality
if the air- sacrifice seems to be fatality
any moment from now on
those victims in a food poison
should be careful after judgement based in most of the liked
over the exhibit-table, only those innocent will be so amazed
Dec 29, 2015
Dec 29, 2015 at 2:16 AM UTC
*Because she could not see—
Song in flower, light in lovers abed,
Dream unfolding as we touched,
Because her great beauty was gifted
It was unfelt, undeserved, shunned,
Making her even more irresistible.
Because I could not hold on to self,
Beside such dream, lost to my hands
As prints clutched into the ruin dark
Of her indifference, I made peace
With subjugation and humilities riven
Out of soul and flesh and hollow being.
Because we were unknowing, each
A foil unto ourselves as we cried—
This then was daymare riding in sun,
Twin delusions in oft reign of blood,
O what stories we both shall die to tell,
How the itch of desire scratches bare
Whole psyche as it writhes in a shell.*
Apr 14, 2015
Apr 14, 2015 at 7:50 PM UTC
Such a simple thing, to go unsung
amidst the rain of droplets I catch one on my tongue
and then they hit, not one but all
melt into the ground, theres no one else around
a chorus of my sleep surrounds me,
i must decide whats real and whats fantasy.
that crazy feeling you feel when your whole world stops its motion
and your heart beats devotion.
Mar 21, 2013
Mar 21, 2013 at 1:52 AM UTC
Though my dreams have been borderline terrifying, it's mixed with a magic I can't explain. I'd often prefer to stay than to wake, and let the story play. In my dreams I have purpose, even if it is to help save and escape when I am the aimed prey. I have planted myself in rough terrain, and though I feel the wetness of the rain, I currently lack the passion to push past the concrete shade of gray. While unconscious I am sometimes robbed of speech and mobility, but awake I am just a shadow's stain. The sun's rays will hit the next day and we will both forget I am there. I can honestly say I still prefer the dangers of the night, to the impending daymare.
Let me sleep.
Feb 24, 2020
Feb 24, 2020 at 5:07 PM UTC
Arms arms breaking forward each pore a door
Escape the whole
Eyes eyes multiplying, constantly eyeing
The ground below
Me, I’m just standing --aside, the bridge to nowhere
As the stars like little lanterns hold their fire back with pains --panes?
And I, I’m just watching -- let the wind whisper do the talking
Or is the sway of shadow trees, a laughter is it mocking
The black crows with their bright beaks bursting from each layer of skin
With their dead eyes that I find such strange comfort in?
May 19, 2017
May 19, 2017 at 5:14 PM UTC
.
Because she could not see—
Song in flower, light in lovers abed,
Dream unfolding as we touched,
Because her great beauty was gifted
It was unfelt, undeserved, shunned,
Making her even more irresistible.
Because I could not hold on to self,
Beside such dream, lost to my hands
As prints clutched into the ruin dark
Of her indifference, I made peace
With subjugation and humilities riven
Out of soul and flesh and hollow being.
Because we were unknowing, each
A foil unto ourselves as we cried—
This then was daymare riding in sun,
Twin delusions in oft reign of blood,
O what stories we both shall die to tell,
How the itch of desire scratches bare
Whole psyche as it writhes in a shell.
.
Feb 14, 2019
Feb 14, 2019 at 7:22 PM UTC