I think it's time to do an update
Of The Seven Deadly Sins
Most people do not know them all
Sit down and let's begin
I'm not really religious
But, I think they're a bit stale
So, I think I'll spruce them up a bit
In this my sinly tale
Gluttony, a sin of course
I think it should be changed
With an asterick, obesity
There, that's one sin rearranged
With dinner plates much larger now
And fast food all around
I don't think God prepared the world
For the obese people we've found
Hyper-obese children
Fed from chemically laden food
I think that gluttony can be renamed
To Obesity....don't you?
Greed...there's not much to say
Unless you're not in the one per cent
You know, the ones who have the cash
While we're still making rent
Unless things are all equal
This will never go away
Someone always wants all that you've got
There's not much more for me to say
Envy....not a really bad one
To me, it should not be on the list
Although some might seem envious
Of that bracelet on your wrist
I mean, really, how is envy
Something that should condemn your soul to hell
I mean I like my friends TV
But, I know he likes mine as well
Condemning both our mortal souls
For being envious of our tellies
That just does not hold water
Exactly like my wellies
Lust...I know, a good one
It gets confused a lot with love
To me the only difference is
With lust, you wear a glove
Lust and envy...make them one
A piggyback sin, if you will
It's like combining two commandments
Thinking evil thoughts before you ****
I lust for things I can not have
And for some, that would do me in
But, I can't see how lusting for a big tv
Can be a mortal sin
I think that  additions should be made
now, while I'm here writing
I think that reality tv is one
To be a sin it is inviting
Hoarding, that should make the list
I mean, most of them are lazy
I think how one defines celebrity
Has gotten rather hazy
Now, sloth...can be removed I think,
Or at the least, re-defined
Today, they're abusers of the system
It's the avoidance of work they say
So, here's what's in my mind
One who's known as sloth like
Avoids spiritual work as well
I say, cut them off of welfare
It's not worth sending them to hell
They'd be getting a free trip there
Again, avoiding doing stuff
Just cut their payments off and then
They'll work and quit their guff
Anger, keep it on the list
Because, it's a good one, I admit
Of all the ones upon the list
I think Anger's a good fit
Finally, we get to Pride
And I'm confused
I think the sin is blurry
And the word is overused
Pride of Man, it is a sin
but, aren't you proud of your young child?
when they go and score a winning goal
This as a sin, I think is wild
I am proud of my home country
And I hope that you are too
But, pride itself, it's not a sin
Aren't you proud of what you do?
Gay people have their pride parade
They are proud of who they are
But, pride itself....come on now...let's
Draw the line, not go so far
Combine the list of deadly sins
With commandments, make an app
Change punishments around a bit
Instead of limbo, give a slap
I think that things are sinful
And I know you won't agree
But, this is how I look at things
It's just me being me

Don't call me a fool
just because I don't fit your bill.
I am made of mistakes
and ugly laughter.
I am a before,
a right now,
and a happy little after.

I am gritted teeth
and burnt roast beef
and tired eyes
and skinny lies
and bloated bellies
and tiny tellies.

I am shattered hearts
and missing parts
and miniskirts
and false new starts.

I am that one channel
your parents don't let you watch,
or a giant, messy void
called a black ink splotch.
I am peer pressure,
irresponsibility,
and midnight crises
pushed into a fleshbag
to walk around the world.

Don't control my life
just because you can't control
your own.
I have my own place in this world-
-a place called the throne.

many we bleed from our mouths,
waterfalls of cherry vitality coating writing canvas,
sinking--melting--within twisted tongues,
and they're sure to ban us.

with graphite--with ink!--juicy wrists beg no mercy,
'gainst the natives with stash minds,
for our pain melts like water over leather,
yet sinks branding upon skeletons.

for we are blessed by God to bestow eulogies for one another,
as one tips from silver seat,
another awakens his place,
with picky gums and robins for teeth.

and how the ache and thirst must be great!
for the explorers must find all 10 fingers 'tween pages,
clad with strawberries and gauze,
and lips chewed off by ages.

and hollow words are gurgled by luscious syrup,
and packages droop 'neath vocabulary scholars,
O back, O bottom, O mind aches thee!
for only thousands to endure the shock collars.

for little Alice would fear to sit with our odor,
as gears and cogs steam--overheat--with vehemention,
and nights--pray tell--pray tell,
are long and arduous drinking lobes with the devil.

for four frays fancy flights!
'til grandfather croaks your retire,
and we blood-let and let leeches sink 'neath tender armor,
and shadows usurp darker.

as we are vampires--but crave the stone light,
and pour magma into our young's bellies,
so they may inherit our plight,
and ring off their tellies.

which noose may I bind?
which hand may I lock?
which tendon should twine?
which ink should I rock?

as we let, t'is nothing but medical,
as our teeth melt from mouths,
and our eyes dismiss with ridicule,
as our wrists are slaughtered,
and minds fluster through obstacles.

our hearts are obvious time bombs,
that rush to supply our cherry,
but when will the stunning twinkle cease to live on?
and be nothing but lemon balm?

O the sea we cross is made of iron--rust--and steel,
and lusts for its named called out,
for if we delve within this eel.
it'll surely be leaving no room for elders to rout.

the drive for honeyed poison excites me,
and the ache of the chew grows more,
at the thought others will see,
spin innards at the drop of the lore.

for we are the ones that wished for nothing more,
but to be charmed by crimson, and keys, and herrings,
and we pray for the pricking ore,

so the world may finally wear the pain as our custom earrings.

( this work is livicated to the six children who will die
in the so-called "third-world in the time it takes to read it)

Drip, drip, drip says the stand-pipe
in the shanty town
as the young mothers gather round
plastic containers on the ground
listening to the drip, drip, drip
of life ebbing away

the riverbeds have all dried up
the wells are mineshafts to the past
the irrigation channels of their *******
are polluted now by the Cuckoo's Nest

the powdered-milk...the dust-bowl fields
the quotas met......the land reveals
the hand that rocks this cradle
is the one who lays the table
with "third-world" debt their able
to rob and **** and disable

as the dehydrated bodies blow away like ashes
the multi-national faschists........
        with vampire banks decashes
the breast-milk of the masses
witha ****** drip, drip, drip

from the ******* of the mothers
the corporations smother....
      the babies in their sleep
the cuckoo comes as a thief
with a free sample and a brief
case full of deceipt............

may I make a suggestion?
"ASK SOME QUESTIONS"

As you eat your chocolate
and drink your coffee
and smear ice-cream on your lovers body
and NESTLE down to the land of noddy
to dream of countless trucks and lorries
ferrying the cow-juice and the slurry
burning the forests in such a hurry

more cattle and cash and burn and $lash
leaves a gaping ****
in the dried-up flesh of Mother Earth
and 4000 babies every year
yes 4000 babies every year
return to the DUST....
BOWL..............BREAKFAST BOWL
CEREAL BOWL..........SERIAL KRIME
CORN and MILK spells CORPORATE CRIME
dished up for your childrens belly
in front of telly-tubby tellies





Chocolate bars and candy treats
robbed from the swollen teats
of mutated udders
whilst the cow's baby brothers
are herded into crates
and served on rich mens plates
the mothers stand and wait
and listen to the rate
        of the DRIP
                 DRIP
                  DRIP
of spilt milk down the drain
the governments explain
and bury their shame
under mountains of grain
and excess champagne

and if you BEG
you get Easter eggs instead
served up by the "head"
whose saviour bled
with a steady DRIP
                  DRIP
                  DRIP

and I scream and jelly
and biscuits and cakes
make bovine mistakes
and cheesy diseases
from the milk that turns sour
reminds us every hour
of this KATTLE KULTURE HERESY
of babies dying constantly
with a DRIP
         DRIP
         DRIP

We watch our mobiles and our tellies,
TV on the internet,
Internet on the TV,
On the mobile.

Our lives are spent
Immersed in soaps
And reality TV.
Hours and hours
Of subsidised sport
And fake news.

Daily quizzes
And Jeremy Kyle
To keep us occupied
And Boredom at bay.

Like zombies we stare at our mobiles
Almost colliding
With people on the street.
Oh yes we chat
And message and text
With folk we’ve never met
Presuming they are real.

We play out time,
Betting and scheming:
Fantasy Leagues
And Facebook,
Snapchat and God knows what.

Occupying our addictive minds
Until the Grim Reaper comes.
“Comfortably numb” until the end.

Paul Butters

8\9\2018.

these words are dedicated to the six children who will die in the time it takes to read them in the so-called “third-world” (due to the practices of Powdered Baby Milk manufacturers)  



Drip, drip, drip says the stand-pipe

in the shanty town

as the young mothers gather round

plastic containers on the ground

listening to the drip, drip, drip

of life ebbing away



the riverbeds have all dried up

the wells are mine-shafts to the past

the irrigation channels of their *******

are polluted now by the Cuckoo’s Nest



the powdered-milk…the dust-bowl fields

the quotas met……the land reveals

the hand that rocks this cradle

is the one who lays the table

with “third-world” debt their able

to rob  and disable



as the dehydrated bodies blow away like ashes

the multi-national fascists……..

with vampire banks decashes

the breast-milk of the masses

with a ****** drip, drip, drip



from the ******* of the mothers

the corporations smother….

the babies in their sleep

the cuckoo comes as a thief

with a free sample and a brief

case full of deceit…………



may I make a suggestion?

“ASK SOME QUESTIONS”



As you eat your chocolate

and drink your coffee

and smear ice-cream on your lovers body

and NESTLE down to the land of noddy

to dream of countless trucks and lorries

ferrying the cow-juice and the slurry

burning the forests in such a hurry



more cattle and cash and burn and $lash

leaves a gaping ****

in the dried-up flesh of Mother Earth

and 4000 babies every year

yes 4000 babies every year

return to the DUST….

BOWL…………..BREAKFAST BOWL

CEREAL BOWL……….SERIAL CRIME

CORN and MILK spells CORPORATE CRIME

dished up for your children’s bellies

in front of telly-tubby tellies



Chocolate bars and candy treats

robbed from the swollen teats

of mutated udders

whilst the cow’s baby brothers

are herded into crates

and served on rich men’s plates

the mothers stand and wait

and listen to the rate

of the DRIP

DRIP

DRIP

of spilled milk down the drain

the governments explain

and bury their shame

under mountains of grain

and excess champagne



and if you BEG

you get Easter eggs instead

served up by the “head”

whose saviour bled

with a steady DRIP

DRIP

DRIP



and I scream and jelly

and biscuits and cakes

make bovine mistakes

and cheesy diseases

from the milk that turns sour

reminds us every hour

of this CATTLE CULTURE HERESY

of babies dying constantly

with a DRIP

DRIP

DRIP

faces appeared from the smoke one evening
as the blue of the afternoon hushed into black
and tellies babbled out through wide-open windows
to the cars standing sentry in the street

within the smoke a mouth is singing
a silent song that splits the air

no evening is truly still, no afternoon only blue
smoke sings silently the same song:
the dying, the unborn, the undead... in unison.