"mistimed" poems
a pale night
two more estranged
in the passing of time forgotten
promises mistimed
and eternity can end in an instant
a sudden death to tumors long malignant
(let us remember the error of our ways,
the taste of blood when suckling an open wound)
it's new nihility embodied
and shortness of breath
when looking at night's pearl eye
drown out in stillness
double-time, my heart
frantic, my lungs
so beautiful and toxic
our morning flower dies
Aug 6, 2012
Aug 6, 2012 at 5:12 PM UTC
By your leave, let I slumber once forever..
And my moment shall never realize itself.
My portfolio possess no wherewithal wager,
My seat of affection is now dull and rough.
Sepsis leak a foggy black since blight is nigh,
The sea is feeble whilst the sun shine naught.
The corpse of venal men flow unhealthy dye,
Henceforth pervade the soil with miasmic malt.
Lest my mistimed demise be not remembered,
Shall the script mark y'all failed to deter abuse.
Today my ember is snuffed and plundered,
On the morrow a bright star will rise, I muse.
Heed thine auguries borne from frigid stupor,
Vicious tendrils cascade upon my rigor mortis.
O gray vision as though gazing through vapor,
Hear that silent gasp veiled under my spicy lips.
Aug 28, 2010
Aug 28, 2010 at 5:11 AM UTC
The World is all forlorn
As New Covid is born.
Time to frown,
We are getting locked down.
Vaccine, vaccine, vaccine, vaccine
We hear your cavalry bugle call.
Vaccine, vaccine, vaccine, vaccine
If you don’t work, the writing’s on the wall.
So many dead, it’s hard to bear,
So much menace in the air.
Everyone tired of this stuff,
So many folk having it rough.
One Lockdown was very tough
Having three is more than enough.
Children getting schooled at home
By parents who are on the dole.
Americans fight amongst themselves,
Instead of putting food on the shelves.
Brits have been distracted by Brexit,
Arguably a mistimed exit.
Last March I asked
Will this last a year?
Well the time is coming –
It’s getting near.
That vaccine surely gives us hope
But where’s our second jab?
No more playing rope a dope,
This chance we have to grab.
No jab at all for me,
As I am sixty eight.
I’ll have to wait and see
But am prepared to wait.
Paul Butters
© PB 8\1\2021. First two lines by Norman Stevens.
Jan 8, 2021
Jan 8, 2021 at 8:30 AM UTC
I've bent backwards trying to find the meaning of the hereafter,
then dame inflamed the brain, making the heart beat faster.
I'm trying to appreciate my numbered days inside this vessel,
yet her presence makes the days seem shorter with every nestle.
Misconstrued test tubes of lessons passed.
Experiments of ill placed notions resulted in enlightened grasps.
Life, the illest four letter word,
seems disturbed when challenged with mistimed verbs.
It appears like I've found the right moment.
My vulnerability, the only validity to hesitate atonement.
My past sins dangle from limbs and I can't negate their knowledge given.
But she seems to have a good sense of direction so I don't mind being driven.
We had our moment of truth: a reckless, real, connecting, application of our youth.
I saw the the future in those eyes for that moment and caught a glimpse into the booth.
It had displays of flashing whites, mountain hikes, star sights, travel delights,
galore of discomfort that would result in an enriched palette of new appetite.
Think I've found a new comfort zone, seems close to home,
Haven't been searching but the path led me here, I don't think there's more need to roam.
Still hesitant because her past is not far behind,
So I'll spill my mind within these rhymes until she's inclined.
It all needs to be real, needs to be organic.
That's the only way to have something worth it, if it happens naturally without having planned it.
I hope she gravitates to my sweet escape,
We'll build something that'll be hard to imitate.
Connect like an interstate to then drive off into our destined fates.
Oct 30, 2013
Oct 30, 2013 at 11:00 AM UTC
Has it been four days now?
Must have been. Nearly a week
since I did the deed. It was dark,
and I was hurrying – I didn’t see
his form, the path in front of me.
My careless size-ten shoe came down,
and crushed his hopes and dreams.
My stride stopped mid-step. Sickened
by that sound, the chilling crunch;
I saw him, when I lifted up.
A tragic mix of slime and shrapnel.
And now – although you’ll doubt –
I swear he’s back. I am the mollusc’s
sole unfinished business
on this fast and brutal Earth.
You’ll say it’s in my head, if I report
that I can hear his death
in every mistimed gearshift,
every mouth devouring crisps.
But it’s not my conscience doing this,
it’s him. He’s putting me through hell.
I hear, with every step I take,
the breaking of the tell-tale shell.
Last night, I thought I saw him,
bright and cold, in death.
Slowly sliding next to me,
and felt his tiny, ghostly breath.
‘It was dark!’ I scream. ‘I was hurrying!’
His silence says it all. But still,
you don’t believe me? Come on round,
see the trails across my walls...
and explain the vengeful holes
in my fridge-ridden, cellophaned lettuce.
Jan 17, 2011
Jan 17, 2011 at 7:48 AM UTC
I'm in my place.
A tiny space I've claimed for myself.
Though I share this spot,
right now it's mine.
With the door latched shut,
I leave the disorderly world,
just an arm-span away.
In my makeshift asylum,
I still hear calls from the outside.
Beckoning and inviting me into
the unrelenting foray...
Pointless skirmishes,
and mistimed altercations.
When all I want is...
To be alone; be empty
and devoid of unruly thoughts in my husk.
Because in the rare silence,
I desperately seek peace.
Peace with my past.
Peace with myself.
So I don't eat myself whole.
Because my world still needs me.
Aug 21, 2017
Aug 21, 2017 at 8:03 AM UTC
THE CICADAS GOING CRAZY
The night all
darkness and lilac
as if scent and absence
of light had solidified
congealing about
the waltzing couple
drifting accidentally
on purpose away
from the gaudy
ballroom.
Both now not
daring to
breath in case this
moment would dissolve
the magic
evaporate.
His clumsy hand upon her
naked back for the first
time ever
this foreveer
the flex of her
shoulder blades as if
she were a swan
about to take flight
and be gone...gone
that terrible thought
tolling inside his head.
They only able to see
each other by touch
alone
feeling his breath upon
her right eybrow
she nuzzling into
an Adam's apple that
kept bobbing up
ooops and that was
not all.
He lost in the bob
of her hair
she only had it done
that day.
Their hips brushing against
lilac and darkness
dancing on into
the witching hour
the fadey ballroom music
like an half forgotten
something or other
the cicadas sudden
silence
dissolving into
this mistimed kiss
that nevertheless
he kissed an eye
she kiss a nose
that still
took time's breath away
the cicadas
going crazy.
Feb 6, 2018
Feb 6, 2018 at 12:06 PM UTC
I have tried to take you, but you dance away to attend your daily prayers; I am left holding sunbeams in bear paws on empty stairs. Clasping you to me, you turn to liquid, gush between my claws: you make me feel ungainly, untoward, a beaten Beast crushing Belle under his mistimed feet. So now I force myself upon you. Eat of my ***** see the traces of snakes that you misplaced there. Beneath the tumescent ******* feel my knees, sore from following you in solemn abdication. They wear the carpet to a shiny bareness, like the moist button of my soul. Can you not see my eyes swell with dedication, do you not understand the corresponding depths of me that call to yours? It is our future sweating from my pores; mop it up, sense the salty possibilities that we can ferment together. Say yes now, as recompense for all the hurt you do to me. Silent, despairing, I have deserved it: if nothing else, give me more of your apathy. It lines my heart with such loving gravity.
May 14, 2013
May 14, 2013 at 11:32 AM UTC
I don't wanna die
The constant danger that I defy
Lurking, elusive, sly
It tries to pass me by
So it can lay a trap ahead
One mistimed step and I'll be dead
My inner clock slowly winding down,
This pulsing presence, this unseen frown
Some sixth sense within,
Alerts me to the Devils grin
Won't ever let the darkness win,
Oh sixth sense, oh mi amas vin
I don't wanna die
'Till the end I'll always try
To walk this tightrope called life
And pray
It doesn't fray
As I scream for that wicked steel, that bloodied knife.
Oct 19, 2015
Oct 19, 2015 at 5:11 AM UTC
The reason why I waited
My excuse to be awake
When life was so wrong
You brought me back up
To where I belong
I didn't fall for you
Like I thought I would
If I waited we .. could .. of been
But I mistimed the shot
So we are, where we are
I don't regret an action
Especially not the last
I would do it all again in a shot
I am not as strong as you
So let me fall apart
Jul 9, 2013
Jul 9, 2013 at 6:34 PM UTC
It's a morning world in my evening life.
It's a genderless world of husband and wife.
It's a green world with a dusty end.
It's a lonely world with nearly no friend.
It's a dawn new world in my twilight life.
It's a new beginning in my honey hive.
It's a slimy end for my gruesome begin.
It's a lonely day for me and my sin.
It's a sunny world in my rainy life.
It's a waterless world and a pointless dive.
It's a lovely day for my night to come.
It's a horroble night and my head goes numb.
It's a bright world in my dark life.
It's a weird dansfloor, for my mistimed jive.
It's a beautiful butterfly for my bitter sky.
It's the worst timing ever, to ask myself why.
Aug 3, 2019
Aug 3, 2019 at 6:56 PM UTC
So tired of this...
Are we so immature with such mistimed attitude?
Poeple knowing they choose the wrong person to be with,
complain with such query " Why ***** cheated?"
People being so selfish caring only for themselves,
complain with query " Why am i alone?"
People protest for multi genderism, for being vegans
or to whatever the modern society applies with
and all they do is ask with query
"Why there is poverty and unemployment?"
"Why there is war and discord?"
Well i ask why can't we see the truth?
Why can't we see through all those blinding mirrors?
Why we believe to whatever narcissistic crap appears
in front of us?
Sep 23, 2017
Sep 23, 2017 at 7:49 AM UTC
THE CICADAS GOING CRAZY
The night all
darkness and lilac
as if scent and absence
of light had solidified
congealing about
the waltzing couple
drifting accidentally
on purpose away
from the gaudy
ballroom.
Both now not
daring to
breath in case this
moment would dissolve
the magic
evaporate.
His clumsy hand upon her
naked back for the first
time ever
this foreveer
the flex of her
shoulder blades as if
she were a swan
about to take flight
and be gone...gone
that terrible thought
tolling inside his head.
They only able to see
each other by touch
alone
feeling his breath upon
her right eybrow
she nuzzling into
an Adam's apple that
kept bobbing up
ooops and that was
not all.
He lost in the bob
of her hair
she only had it done
that day.
Their hips brushing against
lilac and darkness
dancing on into
the witching hour
the fadey ballroom music
like an half forgotten
something or other
the cicadas sudden
silence
dissolving into
this mistimed kiss
that nevertheless
he kissed an eye
she kissed a nose
that still
took time's breath away
the cicadas
going crazy.
Feb 6, 2020
Feb 6, 2020 at 3:46 PM UTC