"savannahs" poems
The lion dog’s muscles ripple
as he descends the stairs
toward the source of food
guarded by another creature
smaller but just as wild.
The standoff happens in the kitchen -
a 110-pound Rhodesian Ridgeback
a pet who wants his kibbles
and the housecat
who thinks she owns the place.
The hound approaches
slow and deliberate
his huge head depending
from a neck
thick like a phone pole.
The cat sits alert but unconcerned
until their noses touch -
then the cat flashes surprising claws
ripping the hound’s nose
and he runs yelping into the living room
to hide behind the couch
to fall asleep
dreaming of the hunt
the rush of his tawny brothers
across dusty savannahs
toward great African lions
with paws like dinner plates
and sabertooth mouths.
Mar 9, 2013
Mar 9, 2013 at 12:51 PM UTC
On a morning
misty and silent
I lift my gaze.
I float in the air with my friend
-- in a Balloon of many hues! --
above a land of
unbridled diversity,
a land imbued of an
ancient haze.
Ages of untold
days blur in
literal abstraction, in this
enchanted place.
Alas, I struggle, bruised by all that
my mind cannot capture.
Rationality wants its place
at the table of experience
and reason seeks to define this rapture.
But I have to leave the doors
open to something else...
something wider, some
new synthesis.
I reach for a new level of existence.
In time, I will
learn to dance
to this dislocation;
I will
learn to let go and
accept what I
cannot fathom.
A heady view from our craft
of levity and lightness
supplies a calming reprieve
from my apprehension.
We drift high through hot
atmospheres and above
pungent savannahs,
seeking to release tension.
We let ourselves drift in
the limitless space of God's
breath, bringing our
breathing into the pattern of
eternity.
The hush takes hold...
Suddenly, we are over come
with spontaneous celebration!
We exalt in the
wisdom of the Sage sublime!
We embrace it all, in thrall
to visions divine!
We pray to the ineffable
with our laughter and
make love in the moment
with our tears.
All our fears are cast away
and we accept a gift offered
by the mystic pulse
of Mother earth.
A view from our balloon
is the prism which
opened our eyes
to the everlasting
light!
This lofty vantage from a
buoyant craft birthed
the soul's
transcendent flight!
May 5, 2019
May 5, 2019 at 3:48 PM UTC
A friend under the strict moonlight
The sunken lifetime street light
A tape from door steps always taps
The unheard voice of allied laps
A friend above the raised song
Whose eyes can lay in low savannahs
A conversational flow of escape traps
Words unspoken, reserved, immersed
My friend on the haunted cell phone
Whose hammock of reclusion tents
Pegs of condition,bungees of freedom
A sacrificial religious preconditions ail
My friend, a reflection of a world another
Take this winter coat I shunned
One that wakes by the sunset
As it shows me not to be afraid of the world
Jul 18, 2016
Jul 18, 2016 at 6:13 PM UTC
the morning after the night before
where tears peeked and sadness threatened as law
but today was not just another monday
where the week threatens with shades of ominous grey
instead today is a day of realisation
allowing the heart to undergo mass migration
from plains of doubt and desert expanses
to nurtured savannahs and warm romances
realising reality and the brevity of fantasy
frees you to shed the fallacy and open the path to felicity
where heavy hearts are a thing of the past
and smiles and laughter are items that last
Jun 29, 2015
Jun 29, 2015 at 4:24 AM UTC
illusions abound
what's not an illusion?
is all in life an illusion?
is life really nothing
but a man sitting at a computer
typing his existence into existence?
could he type himself into
whatever existence he wanted?
could he dare to type
the thing he feared the most?
the lack of existence?
and whether such a state
was type-ably reachable?
he wouldn't dare
the sentence would elude him
but it would gnaw at his mind
it would sit and wait
and then jump out
and try to be typed
but the man wouldn't let it
like a caged bird
a self-destructive bird
one who literally would vanish
if it flew from the cage
if that bird knew its potential fate
would it still want out?
would the caged bird still sing
if it knew what awaited outside?
not just doom
but complete annihilation
SHOULD the caged bird still sing?
should it accept its fate?
should it reject its fate
and try to escape?
what would the caged bird do?
what should the caged bird do?
and if the caged bird is nothing
but a part of the man
should the man listen
to the caged bird at all?
what about the other thoughts?
the thoughts like cheetahs
sprinting through savannahs
like dolphins
leaping from the sea
like digital aliens
quantum leaping across the universe
more free
than that bird
could ever hope to be
should those thoughts have more say?
or should the caged bird win out?
will the caged bird win out
if it's such a strong willed beast
telling that man to try
to be bold
to type that sentence
into existence
(or non-existence)
just to see what happens
the heart would speed up
man's heart does speed up
the thought would jump forward
man's thought does jump forward
the fingers would begin
a slow deliberate march
across the keys
man's fingers begin to march
the breath catches
the bird sings
the cheetah halts
the dolphin floats
the aliens know
and yet they watch
all stops
all waits
the fingers tapping at the keyboard
now the arena of the whole universe
as the man types
one key at a time
as he's always typed his existence
INTO existence
and wondered
if he could type his existence
OU
Aug 13, 2020
Aug 13, 2020 at 5:09 PM UTC
Enjoy your cuppa tea and coffee.
Sit back and relax.
The world is full of strife and corruption:
Untold Evil.
Yet it’s Paradise Earth.
We take for granted
Our timeless oceans,
Mountains and plains
Teeming with Life:
Forests and savannahs
Herds of Wildebeest
And prides of Lions.
Quaff that beer and lager,
Let your Whisky burn your breast.
See those panoramic views
On your television.
Get your mobile out
And check what’s going on
In Social Media Land.
Wallow in a bar of chocolate
And dream of stroking dogs and cats.
Indulge in Romantic Fantasy,
If you know what I mean,
And be mindful of everything
That gives you joy.
Make Life a Celebration:
Party Time,
Full of sporting
Laps of Honour
And harmonious choirs.
Smell that cooking:
Roasts, fries, breads and cakes.
Taste it in your mind.
To the sound of birdsong
And Eric Clapton.
After all,
You only live once.
Paul Butters
© PB 14\1\2018.
Jan 14, 2018
Jan 14, 2018 at 10:11 AM UTC
Garden aromas
Indescribable
Yet taken for granted
Amongst a spiritual haven
Of sacred trees
Resplendently coloured flowers
And glorious grass.
Aromas of blossoms and dew,
Cut savannahs
Rain and drought
Foxes and cats.
Doggy Paradise
Where they can sniff
And scuffle,
Dreaming of truffle.
A Summer retreat
You cannot beat,
Better for a pond
To strengthen that bond.
Just sit or stroll
And soak it all in.
There is plenty of time.
You can only win.
Paul Butters
© PB 25\5\2021.
May 25, 2021
May 25, 2021 at 10:41 AM UTC
i sing a song of the cooing dove
that orbits in blue skies above;
biding time and waiting,
seeking wings of love.
i sing a song of waters still,
teeming underneath;
of predators that seek out fish
until they've had their fill.
i sing a song of swaying grass
on African savannahs;
that weather through nature's cruel
and bend as the winds pass.
i sing a song of songs to sing,
aloud, accompanied;
for one appreciates alone,
but two enjoy a thing.
Oct 31, 2013
Oct 31, 2013 at 12:08 PM UTC
In the lands yonder
Beyond the thrones of Europe
and the bustle of the West
There is a land
It is quiet and peaceful
The sun shines everyday
The people are black
In the lands yonder
Beyond the industrial buzz and dense smoke
There are a peaceful people in a land
Its rivers traverse the lands
From one end to the other
Its waterfalls are wondrous
Its caves adventurous
There is the land
Whose people dont worry
Their simplicity is baffling
They never hurry
There is the land
Whose people sit on gold mines and diamonds unexploited
There is more to life for these people
From days of old
They understood the balance of nature
Before Carl's nomenclature
In the lands yonder
Snow caps mountain tops
Elephants and Buffalloes run the Savannahs
Wildebeests migrate in wonder
In the lands yonder
The birds sing in hapiness
The lions roar in jungles
The lands are rich
The peoples cultures are rich too
They were once thought dunders
Plans were made to invade and plunder
Those were the worst blunders
They fought for equality
They fought for their rights
Adowa 1896
Apartheid 1994
MauMau 1954, and more
They died for their land
This is the land of peace
This is the land of wealth
And nature's bounty
This is Africa
Jan 2, 2016
Jan 2, 2016 at 4:12 AM UTC
She had a pyrrhic victory
Against the ********** masterminds
Who had her children’s lives by the tips of their fingers
And blew air of fear and dependency into their lungs.
A mother of many;
She has children of vast kinds
Segregated from all corners
By dissimilar cultures and tongues.
From the meat-loving Ovaherero in the center, northwest and east,
To the vaCaprivi, vaKavango and Ovambo in the north and northeast with their villas
To the Khoikhoi in the south with their unique communication,
She mothers them all with equal loving.
She is beloved for her beautiful contrast;
Rivers, mountains, flat plains and savannahs
Not to overlook the merging of the desert and ocean.
She truly is wonderful, beautiful and compelling.
Her name is Namibia.
Feb 8, 2019
Feb 8, 2019 at 10:17 AM UTC
We were two distinct lands divided by light
in my forests slept a cold penumbra
in your savannahs shone the blazing sun.
Jan 31, 2020
Jan 31, 2020 at 7:58 PM UTC
Mixed group migrations
Zebras Antelopes and Wildebeest
Sprinting
Across the breathtaking Savannahs.
Survival Instincts....
'A new life
to learn survival skills .....
Everything on the go.
A new born calf learns to sprint within 7 minutes of being born.
Window period ...
testified by the predators.
A couple of days in life
Good to give competition to the
Adults in the herd .
"Anew , Life's Lesson Learned "
Apr 2, 2017
Apr 2, 2017 at 1:20 PM UTC
I'm just a lone wolf feasting on
A flock of no variety
A junkyard dog whose had his day
Unleashed upon society
To liberate the colonies
And warring hives of drones
Who drop their bombs like flies upon
The roaches under stones
Free to soar with eagles
From the cages of these birds
Who clip my wings and dull my plumes
With pigeon-carried words
These ravenous hyenas
Cackling over carcasses
And opportunist vulture beaks
Who slither in the darknesses
Bowing as the lion king
Is flooding the savannahs
Cutting all the jungles down
And stealing our bananas
As he builds his pride rock higher
By selling lies of ivory
Until the lesser creatures have
All disappeared entirely
Jan 7, 2017
Jan 7, 2017 at 12:44 AM UTC