creeping madness slicks black and manic

spider high up on the wall

eyeballing me nervously,                                       "who are you?

why are you stalling? whats come crawling back?

you know how this ends don't you?"





swift answers and an amniotic happiness installation.

                              speaking of stone, wired the lilies grow and the intrepid sank there was quite a stillness in the air.

sunken sand around my feet water cold and green.

     out to meet the entity

     her languorous form so ravenously tempting

     so utterly repulsive and unspeakable.

looking for lights offshore

          heretics of the unimaginable disciples of the moon

          chemical ooze gels burns in the stomach

lit on up and walked out over the water.





after his peak, went heat seeking to the east and he ceased his babble easily, stuffing his mouth with pennies and bits of charcoal. we called him land-lubber and left him for said.

there is no part to this.

there is no heart in this.

                                                    blistering and out of control the fever spins.

wandering tills the level.

                                 filtering cold and pushes me out into the yarns.

Aurora sprinkle my morning wither warm dew
Call your lover to play the day through
Whisper Sol a meadow with cloudless day
Playfully tumbling with hair in the way

Luna will take hold when the sky turns blue
While Sol he saunters where the hearts true
Tithonus your play mate turns wrinkled rubber
His feat he’ll hop the meadow on legs like lubber

Beauty unbiased is more than nature’s surface
Treasured are you when you find your purpose
Tales they wither with the fusionism facades
Poetry of heart last extensive into decades

© Cathy Hodgson 14

Decent, due to gravity's envy
this selfless plunge over
mountain's rock, under valleys
wet logs, feet in gravel pools
sounding like freeway rubber
and jocular splashing chats
these rushing verses of this lubber
"gang aft agley"

-cec

They drop from branch to branch
Of my Cotoneasters:
An extended family of lickle spuggy sparrows.
Their aerial scouts are flitting
From shrub to shrub
While the main party flies up and down
Up and down.

For they have spotted the wild bird seed
That I have scattered
All along the bottom of my back lawn.
So now they make their way
In regimented fashion,
Up and down,
In and out,
Ever wary of those murderous cats.

Now and then they are joined by **** or robins
Or other lickle birds unknown
To this city suburb lubber from Leeds.
Not forgetting those massive fat pigeons
And delicate doves
Who all join in the frenzied feeding
Without a care in the world.

Meanwhile a couple of blackbirds
Patrol their territories
Ignoring the seed
In preference for some scraps of meat or fish.

Later on the foxes will spring forth,
Sneaking around the streets.
So all we need is a commentary
From Sir David Attenborough
With his “Dominant Males”
And “Courting Rituals”
For all to be complete.

Mother Nature loves our little seaside town,
Patrolled by gulls
And guarded by our dogs.
I must get walking in the Spring
When the flowers reappear.
Look forward to that.

Paul Butters

© PB 20\12\2018.

I liked professional wrestling at one time, but mainly because I thought the names Rick Flair and Andre the Giant has a nice ring.

I liked kickboxing when it first came out.
Home plastic, right?!

I just loved Treasure Island when I was reading it as a little boy and like either Tom Sawyer or Huck Finn, whichever was the easy one - at least for me - I think it was Tom Sawyer and I found Huck Finn hard when I started it - too hard for me so I stopped that chore, to me.

I hate to read, but yes, I think it's good mainly for just little old me I think I'm so (as a friend called it) im-po-tent.

I think it's east to like the Yankee in baseball, Brooms Brothers in Ivy League clothing, and Land Lubber and Britannia in jeans.
It is, isn't it?

I like barflys. They're loveable to be with to me and their base baby faces and a certain inseams, fake or not, I think.

I practically say in my writing that I like all underdogs irregardless but I've found at one time or another some Jews to be offensive, some blacks obnoxious, and some Latinos hateful.
That smacks of real hypocrisy, right?
Enough of this.
I'm just spouting off,
I guess.