"mardy" poems
We sit there
in our corners of a bar
our eyes never meet,
you there with your
mild mouth and your
signature breath so rare
and your infinite stare
chills to the bone.
We sip scalding tea
etched in time like a
stitch that saved none,
you by yourself
me by myself
not by ourselves
and slowly we burn
out before Saturn
returns to take its rightful
place under the sun.
Think you can write?
Wake up, smell the tea,
You’re just a mardy
*** from Palookaville
so am I
who are we kidding?
Delhi has no lights
or black sparrows
but then again
neither does Goa.
The day will come,
or maybe not,
one day is just
another day, let’s
sleep in and
smoke tea.
May 14, 2015
May 14, 2015 at 6:55 PM UTC
The fat, the grease,
of these in between days
stills my pen a little
So even if I wrestle
with another monumental year tick,
like the crack of doom
I look at the stuff in the fridge
and shrug
The existential crisis can wait
til the brie is done
and the crackers
have gone soft
Dec 30, 2021
Dec 30, 2021 at 4:37 PM UTC
The world doesn’t know it needs setting right
but we do it anyway
against bucolic backgrounds,
corners of this sceptered isle
known only to types who like to ramble
point to point meticulously planned
by his draughtsman’s hand
our mouths and minds driving us more than legs
words to square away despair at the world
or delight in some magical new tech
to save it
these are footsteps I’ve always followed
always will
despite a mardy heel drag in my teenage years
the muscle memory - one foot, then the other -
cannot be unwritten
even as knees now complain otherwise
Aug 19, 2021
Aug 19, 2021 at 10:15 AM UTC
on an account of being mardy,
these sincere words will not
be exposed. nor, fall from my mouth
and land at your feet.
while mine storm through rivers
every settled pebble swirls about
like every thought, every question.
my error, left in a translucent
body of unclear directions.
your silence, left in a flaming pit
burning in my gut.
knowingly enough, everything
will fall to the bottom
and there it will rest.
every pebble, every ash.
Nov 25, 2010
Nov 25, 2010 at 1:20 PM UTC
Time to wax lyrical,
Time to shout from the rooftops,
My words rolling like thunder
Across the whole wide world.
No mardy moods
Or negative vibes.
Time to replace killing with care
Hatred with love
Tree chopping and ploughing
With planting and wild growth.
Let emotion sing as music
Love and care
Musical words
Called poems.
What are we doing?
What are we doing with our planet
And it’s folk?
Aliens from other worlds might ask
And wonder whether to intervene.
Re-education is required
Getting us back to the ways
Of Mother Earth.
Teaching us to let go
Of our egos
Our lust for mere goods
And territorial land-grabbing.
It’s not what you have
But what you make of it
We only live once
And not for very long
So I say again
Love life
All life
From the tiniest ant
To the loftiest tree.
Enjoy a giraffe
And savour the aroma
Of a bower surrounded by flowers.
Let’s grow more forests
Teeming with life
Clothed in mysterious mists.
Unite together
To end poverty
And strife
Cease all wars
Treat everyone with respect
As equals
All free
All loved equally.
Paul Butters
© PB 29\11\2023.
Nov 29, 2023
Nov 29, 2023 at 3:33 PM UTC
The stage was set, the stage was clear
A masterpiece, of conquered fear
Of scripted words, was it sincere?
But nonetheless, our worlds were near
You were speaking, and I came late
This recipe of yours, I ate
It cooked the tale of bitter fate
Of Love's vices and hearts that break.
And after all, it's said and done
Your repertoire was still unsung
The curtains fall, roll on snare drum
You lit my world of Mardy ***
May 13, 2017
May 13, 2017 at 6:55 AM UTC