"squeezy" poems
Wordsong, wordsong,
Lovely as birdsong.
Could be a Pop Song,
But never a Swansong.
Could be a rap,
And all that *******
For Rap is easy,
Lemon squeezy.
But rap has beat
And words that repeat.
Rap has rhyme
Nearly every time.
Rap even has metre –
Who can beat her?
Yet wordsong is melodious too,
Giving us a worldly view.
Poems of love and dedication
Even human emancipation.
Whoops I’m slipping back -
Back into that addictive rap.
You must remember to read out loud –
Silver lining on every cloud.
Poetic landscapes catch our gaze,
Brightening up our mundane days.
The river of life keeps flowing on,
Iambic metre our beating heart.
Read it like you’re singing a song,
Write it whether or not it’s Art.
So play those words
So full of feeling
Just like the birds
And so appealing.
Paul Butters
© PB 27\1\2021.
Jan 27, 2021
Jan 27, 2021 at 5:53 AM UTC
for jul
she asks a-rat-a-tat sensible
peppering of questions;
“why do I give away my poems so easy and so fast, why me”
the answer so readily apparent,
so easy peasy lemon squeezy,
my style is who you are!
every-oft and every-then,
a leader-reader believes my words
so profound so entire so joyful wonderful!
that title passes there and then
a poem without a dedication but a-dressed-up-lovely
without a ^hat,^ missing the zing of panache
that makes its DNA complete, then someone comes along
who loves it so more than enough, placing that rakish angled love with a bejeweled hat pin just so, and that hat makes
the poem so much more, the jewel whispering confirmation
vive la différence!
so a dedication to/is
purest dedication -
exactly!
and this one
a jewel for the poem
for jul
be a
just
be cause
5:47am
<•>
May 13, 2018
May 13, 2018 at 9:29 AM UTC
Time or the essance of Death
distilled.
No matter the who -
Someone , some force
snowballed.
The greatest daylight robbery -
that of our TIME.
TIME.
is not money
"At least in my books"
-me.
Sep 14, 2013
Sep 14, 2013 at 5:44 PM UTC
The snagged line grows taut
As I repeat the question
" Is there anything you want?"
House too empty , stairs too steep
She wants me back, I worry
"Weve been to ASDA , dont ask what i bought"
Saturday afternoon phonecall
"How are things?"
The reluctant tagline
"Not so bad"
Front garden going native
I set off down the cracked path
Doesnt want next door to see
I dont wave
TALKING THEIR LANGUAGE
June classroom, stir of voices
Arriva trains glide to the coast
Coffee needs filling, the last biscuit goes
This afternoon we look at idioms
Unpicking centuries, cultures
Somalia, Bangla Desh, Kurdistan
English remains official
Still a puzzle
"Speak slowly and clearly"
"Dont hit trees with sticks"
"Its a piece of cake"
The intricacy of language
Shapes ancient letters
"Lemon squeezy " chimes Messa
Our laughter is shared
Jan 14, 2016
Jan 14, 2016 at 6:50 AM UTC
We are like
leftover love for dinner
have a bit,
winner, winner,
I have a Magic Kitchen
it's really bitchin'
& so bewitchin'
so much better the next time,
or prepared inside a rhyme,
add a bit of needed time,
reheated for
when it's breezy
or even freezy,
warm and cheesy
easy peasy
nice & squeezy,
accompanied by
a simple salad
a soft playing ballad
we have some
arugula dressed up
& maple roasted roots
emmmm,
so yummy yummy,
for my tummy,
making yummy memories
& love...
a private room for two,
right here a there is a booth,
in lovely pomegranate vintage dresses,
my lovely silken raven tresses,
lips taste of the sweetest wine,
my tongue & you are intertwined,
followed by
Ben & Jerry's ice cream
Sunday's,
& once again love
on Mondays,
every day with you a funday,
would you be
my love come one day?
Oct 22, 2016
Oct 22, 2016 at 9:17 PM UTC
So, they don’t let you know that it’s easy to be ready.
All I hear on the topic, is: steady, or, “ready, Freddy?”
It was so very easy, with myself, to be concerned.
But look at me now, all these things, with which I’m adorned.
Everyone is so easy to be around today
A big change, but a great one, I say.
They seem to look at me, thinking that I’m pulling a stunt.
Although they think I cannot see their worry, I can; they are being rather blunt.
Were I to have been told that being fine would be so easy peasy
I may not have been as concerned about giving in, lemon squeezy.
For once, I ran around and played some games with others out there.
We all were in it to win it; they needed me, to be fair.
Yet, it seems as though they really truly like me.
Maybe myself really is the best thing to be.
Today I laughed, screamed, ran, shouted, had a **** good time
Should anyone ask me, I can only say: It was sublime!
That was yesterday, when I promised to be more daring.
Do not fear, it does not mean I cannot also be caring.
This feeling is so wonderful, so nice.
If it could last forever, man, that would suffice.
I made a wish last night, as I looked up high at the stars,
Please, I asked them, let this last awhile. Let me go far.
Jun 15, 2015
Jun 15, 2015 at 12:15 PM UTC
The timid moon obscures itself
in shadows of intrigue.
Every night you wax,
a striptease of your soul.
The moon looks over all the stars
reflecting the light of an absent sun.
The cold night glows with wonder.
Though you are smaller than the stars,
the twinkles are minuscule in my eyes.
If you are the moon,
and the moon is made of cheese,
then why am I
cheesy so squeezy.
Mar 10, 2018
Mar 10, 2018 at 3:59 PM UTC
Her laughter resonated
for only a moment
Then it lingered
releasing all tension
As if life in me detonated
in a glimpse of a moment
As it hindered
every little expression
Afraid to be too cheesy
All the poetry stayed inside
The touch of her cheeks so squeezy
The euphoria in me I couldn't hide
Couldn't make a single blink
Every ability of mine she defied
My weakness is this I think
When charm and bliss collide
As the laughter started to fade
The spark didn't last
The sun turned slowly to shade
and the void in me grew fast
Slave to a laughter to end my agony
Soaked in anxiety, deprived of rest
I'll defy myself despite my atony
Bring back that laughter, my ultimate quest
It was a hideous day when i saw her frown
Maiming my strength, twisting me around
Someone had just broken her heart
Remodeled her face, that piece of art
I got her flowers
of all sorts of colors
Tried a few pokes
Threw a few jokes
My neck bent down
But her frown never bent
But the next day she rose like a cedar tree
She became the hero I couldn't be
Flew her way up to happiness' peaks
I stood up as she lifted my soul
Reborn from those round cheeks
with soft lips and bright eyes at each pole
And I waited...
I waited not for too long
Till her laughter resonated
for only a moment
Then it lingered
releasing all tension
Then life in me detonated
in a glimpse of a moment
As it hindered
Every possible expression
~Epic Monkey
Oct 27, 2016
Oct 27, 2016 at 1:48 PM UTC
I took a walk with my mom today
It was an old park where I used to play
We sat on the swings for what felt like hours
On our way out we stopped and picked flowers
Before heading home, I went into a shop
It was an antique looking place I used to stop
Everything looked the same, in its unique spot
Who could have guessed I would have missed this a lot
I saw an old friend walking on the street
He looked a little busy for the two of us to meet
When leaving I spotted a penny on the ground
I reached down and flipped it around
Later on, my dad and I went on a drive in my truck
All the gears were shifting fine, so we were in good luck
We stopped at a place we’d visit when I was young
All those times I would sit there and bite my tongue
Yet there was still some sunshine left at the end of the day
So, I went to the lake to pray
When I was done, a bluebird came to visit
But he was gone in mere minutes
Goodbyes have never been easy
But life’s not always lemon squeezy
Yet there’s peace in this serenity
Knowing that I still have all of eternity
May 9, 2024
May 9, 2024 at 5:13 PM UTC
February
Three squeezes.
My mother told me that
Sometimes the words get tired,
Sometimes people get worn out,
So we can squeeze instead.
Three squeezes, and four in return.
I love you.
Too.
You pretended not to understand,
Too afraid of permanence.
June
Your face was just as familiar
Even three weeks away.
Your warmth my home,
Hand in hand and natural.
Three squeezes.
Four in return.
A gravitational pull,
A nirvana,
A promised land.
You were mine
to hug so tight I might crack a rib.
But that's just how I loved you.
The squeezy type of way.
September
Three squeezes.
Silence.
A reluctant reply,
A command sent from the mind
But not the heart.
The silent book we had written together
No longer lay open on your shelf.
My mother told me that
Sometimes people get tired,
Sometimes people get worn out.
She never told me that sometimes
People get tired of you.
Nov 4, 2013
Nov 4, 2013 at 8:58 PM UTC
Ever been to a trade show?
where they take to you Las Vegas
they sell and ply, propagandatize
in the smoky conference room, bodegas
You'll get your trinkets upon check-in
a coffee mug, perhaps, an attache
the squeezy thing, they say is bling
squished at midnight in the hotel bar
in drunken disarray
Try to stay awake
through the technical panoply
waving at contacts, give and take
a sleepy repartee
Staying up too late
she wouldn't let you sleep
using all, here, there and everywhere
sore and wore, in morning's flair
falling into her, so deep
Just remember on the plane
as you reminisce and pine
big O *** a short simple jaunt
leaving Las Vegas, far behind
Sep 18, 2017
Sep 18, 2017 at 1:26 PM UTC
The little boy who cried life
All he ever wanted was a
Piece of the pie but all
All he ever got was
A life full of lies trying
Trying to materialize
And fantasize coming
With images in his mind
What does he realise?
What does he take from life?
I guess he just has to
Improvise and accept life as it
I guess he has to simplify
And relax and handle his biz
Life didn't come lemon squeezy
Its hard the opposite of easy peasy
Then one day the boy cried he
Said himself this world is a lie
And then he saw as his tears fell
And all he could think to himself is
Life.....
Aug 17, 2014
Aug 17, 2014 at 3:22 PM UTC
Eye *****
Snooker *****
Footballs
No *****
Big *****
Snow *****
Kick *****
Rugby *****
Small *****
Tennis *****
Billiard *****
Hairy *****
Shiny *****
Squeezy *****
Cheesy *****
May 4, 2018
May 4, 2018 at 5:29 AM UTC
some days I pretend carry no change in them
I pretend in the twenty four hours elapsed, nothing consequential has happened
I pretend that my recovery is unthreatened,
I pretend therapy will work
I pretend nothing inside me has broken
(at least, not beyond repair)
other days, willingly or unwillingly, I remember
change change change
comes back to me like a fire from the past
feeling hotter than it might've back then
here i am drawing it back from what i feared it would feel like
and never really let myself feel
so how am i to know it would've hurt like this back then?
only a guess i suppose
but I go with it, embrace it
reflection is a memory and I think about her once I see her all day
can't bear to look at any new one, the one I might call myself today
the one I need to recognize as myself
but can't bring myself to
here's a confession for no ears, about the bad years
about the longing that so strongly defines my days
i suffocate every few days, lose myself every few hours
then decide to keep going.
this, at least in theory, is a nice thought.
a year ago i never thought to believe i had it in me to live any sort of life, have any kind of continuity.
the latter is still true. i still don't know how to keep going in a straight line. my best friend tells me healing is not linear. so i've embraced it
learned to go up and down and be okay with it
Dec 7, 2017
Dec 7, 2017 at 7:41 PM UTC
Standing in the hospital
Hungover, feeling jittery
Ward 93
Drug and Alcohol Dependency Unit
I finger the squeezy lemon bottle
Hidden inside my boxer shorts
Full of second-hand ****
Ward 93 operates as a strict regime
3 strikes and you're out
That means that every time
You give a positive sample
They give you a warning
More than 3 and your
Methadone is stopped
I'd had all 3
After a phone call to my
( only) clean friend
I met him in the pub
3 or 4 beers later
I hit him with it
He took it reasonably well
It not being every day
A friend asks you to ****
Into a bottle for him
So......
There I was, hungover nervous
With a squeezy lemon of
Someone elses **** in my shorts
Hidden just behind my *****
To keep it at body temperature
If you handed over the sample
Bottle and it was cold
The Nurse might become suspicious
Or think that you were dead
This required sleight of hand
And nerve
The Nurse would stand right behind you
In the cubicle to watch you
Anyway
It worked
This time
The next time I couldn't
Get in touch with my friend
So I had to resort to
Trying it with tea
Amazingly they said
That this sample contained
Opiates
And I was thrown off the programme
Either their equipment was faulty
The bottle was contaminated
Or something
But just in case
I started to
Drink a lot of tea
Well, you never know
And I guess
They've got to keep
Sales up
Somehow
Sep 27, 2017
Sep 27, 2017 at 6:03 PM UTC
The sun only feels good when it beats you down
I can't beat it right now but one day it's coming
My acting without thinking gets everyone riled up,
even when I shut up
I'm the jestor who stole the crown
The cellar king is mad and he's coming down
He points his finger at my sorry ***
and I wag my tail fast
I may be burning but really I'm just getting by
With the stupidity and charm no intellect can find
My good intentions seem to be at fault,
so really I **** the lot off with my exhalt
I don't do much really but lick the asphalt
Like a lazy tootsie roll sticking to the hot ground
As I lay, an emotional rattle comes from some vent / vault,
so I kick the air all around
I have it so good and easy
So maybe I'll let the sun beat me down soon
And then it won't be so lemon-squeezy
Mar 5, 2017
Mar 5, 2017 at 2:58 PM UTC
I'm pulling my hair, but it's easy.
Head against the bathroom stall wall,
staring at my feet and the tiles
and I'm smiling. It's easy.
There's no one to love, but that's fine.
Just plenty of friends, good articles,
wine and a big warm house
not far from the sea. It's so ******* easy.
Do you love me? Of course you do.
Look at me. There's so much to see.
I'm smiling, I'm so ******* happy.
Maybe I'm empty, but it's so easy.
I'm adjusting to life as a level-headed,
less narcissistic ***** who was a force
to be reckoned with. And this is it -
a kinder, better me. It's so easy.
Oct 22, 2015
Oct 22, 2015 at 12:58 PM UTC
It is Valentines soon,
I am alone and feel like a buffoon.
I am not lonely for friends,
I am lonely for ends that bend, trip, criss-cross, and fend.
Romantic books,
make it feel easy,
but in these days,
it's not lemon squeezy.
My friends have talents that make girls barely balance.
I am romantic as war is to peace.
I can't and I won't.
Words to express are caught in my throat.
My heart does not float.
This is truth that I have wrote.
Feb 6, 2017
Feb 6, 2017 at 10:27 PM UTC
My friend, I miss you.
I miss the tingle of anticipation
that you’ll be coming through my door.
I miss the sway as we squeezy hug,
that charges and restores.
I miss the pretty notes of your perfume
the grey that sweeps your hair.
I miss saying that I like your top
and the brimming smiles we share.
Or saying, ‘Oh, you naughty thing!’
as I take the cake and wine,
you always do, though you always don’t
really need to bring.
I miss your natter, the laughs and snorts,
the ranging chats and views.
I miss hearing of your children
and all our other buddy news.
And when you’ve gone, the afterglow;
the altered atmosphere.
You left me more than cake, you know,
the joy that you were here.
Jan 17, 2021
Jan 17, 2021 at 10:19 AM UTC
I've seen sorry clowns,
happy hobos,
and a sun that's tired.
Lucky black cats
intelligent rats,
and words that expire.
Today I played hopscotch
with my demons
and fell in love
with multiple strangers.
It's easy peasy
lemon squeezy.
Squeeze me tighter.
Oct 12, 2017
Oct 12, 2017 at 8:29 PM UTC