When poets die
It's sad and true,
It matters not
What their bodies do,
The spirit flies
To Poet's Corner,
In Westminster Abbey.
You'll not see
Busts or inscriptions
For all the poets
Whose spirits linger
Alongside Chaucer, Browning, Spencer,
And a myriad of authors.
Dead Poet you have earned your share;
Dead Poet I will know you're there,
Composing in the Laureate's lair.

I beg you
don't leave the sky

when dark clouds billow in the south
the weary winged hurry home

overhead on the dead blue
jupiter and venus are born anew

the wind slows to silence
trees loom night's shadowy ghost

nocturnal birds sing on their new day
you feel your breath as they fall

the clouds spread across the sky
cracked by the lightning

a drop lands on your stretched palm
soothes all the burns in you

you melt in love
by the torrents falling from above.

don't leave for shelter
I beg you
when heaven arrives here.

dead bodies floating
in our oceans
from the Asian Pacific
to the Mediterranean

crumpled corpses lying
on our beaches
thousands drowned unknown

overcrowded detention centers
not unlike concentration camps
behind barbed wires
guarded by police and snarling dogs

nobody feels responsible

not  those who started wars
destroyed whole cities
made millions homeless
and into refugees

not those who take advantage
of the chaos for their own gain
abusing the names of their gods
or some ancient figurehead
to excuse their atrocities and greed

not those who live
in comfortable homes
and wish the desperate crowds
would just stay on the TV screen
and not come close

nor those who pretend
to be the guardians
of our great humanitarian heritage
but show no backbone
against nationalist fanatics

it is the shame of the world
to sit and talk and watch
and not do enough

those who turn away
the needy and homeless
could also
      quite suddenly
lose their homes

forced to rely
on the kindness of strangers

When the hand of his timepiece
reached the top of the hour
Sam pushed the throttle forward.

Engine 138 thundered
out of Blossburg station
like an iron dragon
breathing smoke and steam –
it's whistle shrilling the Tioga valley.

Powered by coal
his train carried coal
to the shops and homes of Elmira
where Sam would press his mother’s hand –
perhaps for the final time.

The wheels, churned iron on iron,
across Pennsylvania farmland
just as yesterday’s wheels
moved his grandfather's oxcart
to their new family spread
alongside the Williamson road.

Newer wheels carry America
to urban landscapes
attracted like electro-magnets
to streetlamps – factories –
five and dime stores –
new crops for a modern age.

Elmira’s silhouette breached the horizon
and Sam pulled the train in on time -
brakes screeching through billowy steam.

His Jenny and his sister’s Sam
had come in a horseless carriage
with Zoe, Ed and Marie -
children now grown at their sides.

They all gathered to Hannah’s bed,
now approaching her final hours.
Soft voices and fragile smiles
cradled the truth beyond telling;

Time, ever advancing
like an ever-turning wheel
holds us all in its circling sway.

it's getting scarier by the HOUR
OUR world will never see PEACE
PIECE by piece we're overpowered
overpowering us as our fears increase

we sit idle as hatred BREWS
BRUISED by the war torn SCENE
SEEN as only pawns to lose
losing all of our hopes and dreams

You enter
      Riding on a soundtrack of rising blood pressure and self defeat
       Every conversation kills itself at the sight of you;
     A *joke not quite worth telling, that no one would laugh at anyway
          Every eye stops to stare at you
        *An aging car crash of a human
Wrecked and painted in dried blood
     Seducing onlookers with a rinky-**** smile
     Missing the convenient yellow caution tape that tells you life stops here
          
       You complain to fill the spaces left by your depleting self worth
  That wasn't much there in the first place
In the mirror you see dirt
    And you can't wash it away, no matter how hard you try
Cause you're ****** in all the wrong ways
Up until you die

     Unintelligently designed
Your stupidity is almost genius
       You blame others for mishaps that you have gained
                            Your sickness a silent auction
                       Anyone could have caught it
       Infectious Anonymous
Attended every week
      And yet you're still so pathetic
you don't accept you're a disease worse than any flare up that could take hold
        You don't know how to recognize the facts that you've been told

       You complain to fill the spaces left by your depleting self worth
  That wasn't much there in the first place
In the mirror you see dirt
    And you can't wash it away, no matter how hard you try
*Cause you're ****** in all the wrong ways
Up until you die

Come meet me on my battlefield of choosing
Don't be disappointed with what you got
Oh, it's hot
The anger and frustration
The bottles have just opened
Pandora's potions, they make me uncontrollable and insane
Where do you think I got this game?

I learned to be a bigger ******* from you.

There is no need for all this strife,
All that’s required is Love of Life.
Religions and philosophies all seek Good,
Trying to get us out of this wood.
All you need is Love, The Beatles said,
So let’s put Evil and Hatred to bed.

Christian, Muslim or worshipping Buddha,
Atheist, Humanist, Taoist, Shinto, Hindu, Wiccan or any other,
It doesn’t matter for you are my Brother.
We’re all the same in God’s loving eyes
(Whether you believe or not)
From mighty whales to tiny flies.

Tigers bite and wasps do sting,
But each of them is a black and gold thing.
Life is precious in every form,
We all get beaten by that storm.

Give us a wormhole and we will find
Countless exoplanets that’ll blow your mind.
In the swathe of the universe we are but a speck,
Prepare yourself for an endless Star Trek.

But first we need to put our own Earth right,
And now it’s such a sorry sight.
Having technology is all very well
If all you can make is our version of Hell.
The human mind is far behind I hate to say,
We have to find the Loving Way.

Paul Butters

© PB 25\8\2015.

I see your face through the window pane
    the glass is cracked
and your image is blurred.
Even from this distance, I see your pain
  and I wonder if my tears my heard.
This window frame surrounds my dreams,
    the pane conceals my pain.
It seems as if the seams around this glass
      get stronger everyday.
Keeping me away from the one thing
      that makes my life worth living.
          You on the outside,  
Staring at me on the inside.
    Reaching through this foggy view,
It's hard to see,  it hurts to know
       we can't reach our destiny.

I'm trapped in here, you're trapped out there.
It's clear to us that fate don't care.
I'm trapped by these walls and you can't get in.
Unfortunately, I can see my destiny,
      but we can't begin.

You've tried to break through,
    I've tried to break out.
I scream your name,
    but you can't hear a sound.
You can see these tears streaming down,
I see you fall to the ground and reach for me
     but I'm nowhere around.
This pain is so real, the pain is too thick.
I write your name out in the fog
        as you stand there in the mist.
I need you in here, I crave your touch.
   All this pain,
       It's just TOO MUCH!

I'm trapped in here, you're trapped out there.
It's clear to us that fate don't care.
I'm trapped by these walls and you can't get in.
Unfortunately, I can see my destiny,
      but we can't begin.

I can't take this, not one more day,
our love is too strong, there must be a way.
So, we're standing here, face to face,
    eyes locked through the window pane.
You raise your hands up to mine
   and we smash that glass one last time.
Slowly, it starts to splinter down
and all the shards fall to the ground.

Now, we're trapped together,
    In each other's arms.
Trapped forever, away from harm.
Trapped in love for all time,
    Trapped in love within our hearts.
Fortunately, I've found my destiny,
      Now we can start.