Untitled

Smiling faces,
Fire hearth home,
Within it all,
Hearts of stone.
Do not communicate with me,
Unless the truth you seek to see,
Night is growing,
Darkness flowing,
Rumbling growing.

Bring me back to the tall green trees,
To the centre of the family I do believe,
Though I return in age and I do see,
In my youth, make me naive.
Take away the robes of filth,
The seedy side, and the truth
I wish to God I never did see.

BoundTogether

What do these sights and sounds mean?
Her eyes shimmering in dream.
Feeling for the innocent,
Scared eyes caught by a car-lights beam

The most terrifying fundamental breakdown,
Bound up to that dark corner of town in her innocent years,
Her friend dances in her shadow in the whitewashed corridors,
Her face burning in beauty
In stark contrast of her loving son off to a new righteous war.

A Shadow on Christmas Eve

Untouched in Innocence and
Adorned in Spring,
Until youthful know-how falls in June.

Then towards experience the stark streets draw near,
Hypnotized by clawing chemist shop traders soon to be fawning:
Business acquaintance high and low, dead and dying.

And July brings working blood-stained concrete corners;
Miss Misery cries with her soft smooth skin to the predator
In his four by four family car.

So Autumn time and red rose petals falling,
And Wintertime draws in and vultures flying,
Over neon-lit working women,
Drawn in rattling desparation to shivering street corners,
To risk existence, lose pride,
Their design a warm and dull and drowsy ride:
Childish dreams of castles and spires and Rapunzel golden hair,
And fair princes upon bended knee in wondrous love and hypnotic stare.

In her corrupted room, the only choice to rise,
Back to work, face made up, an image to despise.

On a Christmas Eve en route to Midnight Mass the good did espy,
A dark form in a dark doorway that she did lie.
Where 18 years' past the Spring did rise -
The Earth and Stars were in her eyes,
On this eve of her 19th year,
Despised and debased, in that dark doorway she gently died.

AJ Buttle (Date Unkown)

A Nightmare I Had One Day

And in that river of degradation were assorted bones
And the assorted bones were a mystery,
Until they gradually began to move together,
And link together like a father links with his daughter
When he gives her away to her beloved,
Incense dreaming and candles showing the way of light,
Lovingly coming together,
Leg bones and arm bones
The tendons and muscle and gristle tightened its grip
Until the bones became one,
Until they became a being of human proportions,
And it rose from the river’s bed,
And beckoned me come into the river,
The icy cold no longer held any fear for me,
I slid down the bank in hypnotic fear-eyed trance,
And danced the dance of death
With the skeleton no one would see but me.
All the walking woman had seen was the lone man
Walk into a Winter’s river icy chill,
He struggled and appeared to embrace something she said,
As he kicked and danced until he went still,
And floated by in once more still waters.

AJ Buttle

INSIDE OUT AT CHRISTMAS 2006

Morphine and nuts,
Second-hand sofas,
A book of explorers,
Fairy lights, hot cinders in the gloom,
TV enlightens the corner of my room, and darkens the space in my head;
Al-Jazeera, the News Conquistadors,
And
Chaotic world and the ice is melting,
The four seasons blending mixing,
Red Campion flowers in the Peak District,
While the seas warm around Northern Europe,
All the better to bathe in May
At John O' Groats and the Faroe Islands.

To the Woman I Truly Love

I love you in your skipping and your sleep
I yearn for your generosity of spirit
I see you in cotton summer dress among the long summer grass
Peppered with the wildest of wild flowers
Chasing each other like innocent children
The summer grass flattening under our hot bodies
Desiring each others closeness
And the slow yet quickening passion would calm us for a while
Just to lie and lazily dream into each others eyes,
Seeing our mutual love, so potent, so true
The essence of living,
It is Love that makes Life worth living
Without Love the grass has dried the trees have died, all meaning has ceased
Head bowed, the need for fresh water has left
The sun fades into dusk and there it will stay

AJ Buttle 2010

Untitled

And that mania flows and flies
Through the longest darkest tunnels drilled through mountains
And over skyscrapers
And above the skies.
Swimming with mermaids through the Seven Sunlit Seas
And Laughing at their vastness as I dive into those dead Oceans
We once lived with and were full of life and strange creatures of the depths.
And that mania flows and flies,
Fluttering with fairies
Fluttering, but then on, and on strong
Nothing shall stop me now
I’m riding for you, and you, and you and you and you (don’t you know?)
And the plants keep on growing
The weeds the beauty flowing
Riding with crack-whip on shooting stars
Riding near yet so far
So close to the edge
That I fly over valleys and hills and fly onwards
Until we drop
Like a stone
A boulder-heavy lead balloon stone.

The Meek Lamb

And in the burning,
Brightened night,
Darkened figures without form,
Of blind sight,
Seeking victims in respite,
Hunting the Lamb to eat in glaring shriek of lightening light,
The Woollen Marble Child in immortal Sight,
Oh, on that sunlit burning brightened night!

Mother Nature, come aid our sad-eyed thoughts,
Rinse the tears from our sadness blackly bought,
Our minds, at one and same in Black and White,
We live through the Angels of either day or night,
Let the Meek Lamb, for once, enjoy the light...

A. J. Buttle 2007 (use as your own if your conscience cares not)