WRITTEN BY MY LAST TRUE LOVE TO ME - WINTER 2011 - BEAUTIFUL POEM

If anyone happens to read this, I'd like to explain that this is a poem written by a woman I met on the internet, and where romance and love blossomed happily, all healthy and green and red. Circumstance on both side however doomed our love. We were on a different plane

Last Laugh On Me

Tilted my glass filled with liqueur
A slippery tongue I did acquire,
Spilling my guts to you, unaware
Of what a fool I was making of you and me

Never again will I bother
Tis true what they say,
Once lovers, friendship cannot exist

Please do not bother me..please
I insist

I 'm done with life, I 'm done with dreams,
I 'm done searching for joy
I'm done expecting pleasure
I'm done looking beyond the horizon

I'm done

You're done

To all meat-eaters: are you morally brave enough to watch this video inside a vet-approved abbatoir?

Poem written for my Father

Poem written for my Father

Why this Earth with luscious green?
Rivers streaming to the salty sea.
The wicked I've known,
The beauty I've seen,
And the intense experience of love and hatred in extreme,
Guilty of both the evil and the good I've been.

I've embraced the dementia around me;
Pride dictates the coming fall.
Not for him the sterile tree-lined roads
To the house with the gilted gate,
And the poorly-paid are told to tend
The one's they neither love nor hate.
Nature is overpowering nurture
And the Strong hold dominion over the Weak.

No, not for daddy the caring facades and
Smiling masks.

What is this stone?

It is smooth unlike limestone, contains fossils. But I've no idea what type of stone it is. Please reply. Thanks...

Watch this film on Jungian psychology. Fascinating!!

SORRY

To anyone reading this, there is a temporary loss of reception. The circuits to my mind have been tapped, and some fucker's siphoning any enthusiasm or creativity for life out of my ocassionally brimming brain. APOLOGIES TO ALL

Symptoms in Schizophrenia (circa 1940's)

Raw Bones

I stick a needle in my eye
The vein is small
And so am I

I stick a needle in my fem
My head does nod
No tomorrow then

I stick a needle in my neck
Come dance with me
My dance with Death

In Time...?

In time and in no time,
In tune and misfortune,
Disrobed from society's straitjacket
And flowing in your funeral gowns.
Imperfect perception and in precise perception
And in manifold receptions in multiple transmissions.
In tune with the notes of disdain,
And the lowering of the eyes.
He has spoken to God,
And we are all spies.
And his journey to Hell
He's won at first prize.

AJ Buttle March 2011

Mother Nature In All Her Glory

I'm tied to nature unfolding
Oh mama, I'm so tired of this nature unfolding
Backs are breaking
And the money they're making!
Let the black sun rise
And the bad moon fall black
Into my hands
It breaks my back
Nature, she's on the attack.
She's got around to me -
It's my turn for her mood to be black

The roles have reversed
A greater power
A perverse dig
You're gonna make me fall
With this weight

AJ Buttle February 2011

Tom & Jerry

Hypnotic Gaze reflects Tom's heartbeat-slow state of mind,
It's a little mouse called Jerry.
Tom's motionless moonlight stance, then
Sense the lull before the dance and
Lets loose this dog of war,
A flashing swipe with
Tom's hook claws,
No retreat for what's in store,
And then the decisive needling teeth and,
"Oh come finish me!"
Tom's charitable vice-like jaws.

That hypnotic gaze,
"I'm gonna play for days,
I'll let him think he's free",
Tom caught him once more in his eyes,
(His leg was broke by then - easy - Jerry gonna too fast die)
"So I'll
Toss him high
So he can see the birds
Flyin' free and high".
And Jerry can
Wish for the life
With the doves and the kites
In the
Soaring truly vast sweet skies.

Close your eyes
Little Jerry,
It's no surprise
To see the neutral grimace
In the mirror
Of your fading eyes.

AJ Buttle February 2011

The King and I

I am King of all on Earth
I am Absolute
I rule with rod and iron my country and my god my father looks well down on me
And my subjects the worms squirm at my toes
They slither beneath my feet and do feel pain
I bestow some of my kingdom to the higher subjects, the snakes
I hold Court wherever I be
I watch with my beady eyes as
A Golden Eagle soaring in the sky
Spying acts of weakness -
Where to spike the knife
Timing is everything in this business

The growing piles of butchered feverishly simmering bodies
From the youthfully precocious
To the Old begging at their sons feet
There is famine about I am told by my spies
War, Famine and Pestilence
And the Medieval mounds grow
My daffodils and violets are abundant with energy
And my subjects enjoy a new indulgence called cannibalism -
Everything is well and as it should be


One of the worms asked
"Is the Second Coming at hand?
"Are you the Messiah my God has promised?"
And the man tattered and torn held up his hands worn, blistered and tiring of this earth replied
"Yes, I am the New Messiah. Have you not learnt? You thought your king might be God's chosen Son?
"In my name you snakes you princes commit genocide and others live not by my word but as a heathen,
"Blaspheming and murder is as nothing to you
"You shut the door on the poor downcast and the falling and fallen
"Not thinking "there but for the Grace of God"
"Thus you have failed
"My heart is tears dyed red with your blood
"My heart is shattered as forked lightening in black and blue sky
"Pour some opiate into me for I leave you to your sinning and My Father's wrath to come
"He will cast you into muddied and heaving gutted waters that were once blue as summers sky
"You will see all your sins unfold before you when slowly drowning
"Then you will enter your personal domain -
"Your nightmares have given you hints as to how you will exist"

And the ice sheets melted and the more they melted the faster they melted
The Godless tread water and were treading water and tiring
(Give me an anchor to root me to the sea, and I will feel happy, secure, and I will be free.)
And the pain just starts for the masses who are not God's Saints
The thumbscrews are nothing compared to
Your life being replayed and replayed
Despair growing at every new nuance of error in life ensuring I sit here
Watching my life being replayed.

AJ Buttle January 2011

A Rake - See Poem Below

The Price Of Lead

I was writing some nonsense verse, or virtually nonsense verse, on Facebook, and decided it was such a work of genius, that it contained such profound truths (especially when I bring in the relationship between myself and the rake), I had to post it on my weblog. Be warned, this poem is of such power, it may remain with you until your dying day - even your dying words may be a line from this poem or an allusion to it. I leave this warning, because people have told me of the tremendous impact this poem has had upon their lives, whether positive, but sadly mainly negative. You have been warned!

Here Goes...

Yes, I can tell I'm a little short of sleep,
much more or less and I will weep,
a cliff to climb it is so steep,
the ocean is a mile deep.
a leap of faith I have to take
in order to buy a second-hand rake.
now it's time for a cup of golden tea,
but I've lost my kettle, and my kettle's lost me,
for this here poem it's more than i can take,
any more crap like this
and my laptop may break.

Oh my Lord, for goodness sake,
I've bought a cuppa and drunk a rake.
just before I drive and swiftly take,
a book to read before I wake.
and before I climb into my bed,
I'll laugh so much until I'm dead.

I'd dreamed this way my life I'd take,
while grasping my tea,
and sipping my rake.
in retrospect a decent way to go,
and done just in time before the snow.

So when you read this
I'll be gone and dead.
were you aware of
the price of lead?

AJ Buttle, November 2010