Oh Brexit!

Oh Brexit!

Where is the Exit?

You can’t make your money

You Tory Grandees,

Nor can you

Remainer MPs.

We’re running right into a very hard cliff;

Before we get out we’ll all be so stiff.

There’s no majority for any option

And Theresa May’s deal is but a concoction.

Vote after vote and endless debate.

March twenty ninth is the Closing Date.

Can we escape?

I really don’t know.

The media are loving this pantomime show.

This sorry charade is filling the news,

We’re all sick of hearing everyone’s views.

Please get me out of here

I hear you say

Surely, surely there must be some way!

So come on politicians

Get your fingers out

And show these Europeans

We still have some clout.

If we can’t do that then just pack it in

And throw the whole thing right into the bin.

Whatever we do I’m just past caring

But I hope you’ll tell me thanks for sharing.

Get on with it!

That’s the yell.

For until we resolve this

We are in Hell.

Paul Butters

© 30\1\2019 (Written in the early hours!).

Evolution

(Picture Credit - How Stuff Works)

In the final analysis

We are but colonies of bacteria

Swimming about in our own primordial soup.

Who knows what pacts and treaties

Have been made within our very bodies?

Aeons and aeons of evolution

Have led to this:

The human being.

So much mindless life,

Following instinct,

Building and building

To produce intelligence.

Natural Selection,

Seen by Darwin,

Such a beautiful thing –

Presented by Attenborough on a silver screen –

God’s Formula:

The mark of Genius.

Paul Butters

© PB 22\1\2019. Finished 4.47 AM in a red notebook (which contains a few more!).

Poetry

(Picture Credit - Freddie Mercury from Rolling Stone - Getty Images)

It has been said to me

That poetry

Is but Words

And Gobbledygook.

So how can I explain

What poetry is?

It’s something intangible,

An atmosphere,

A spiritual thing.

Poetry is essence,

Touching the soul.

A kind of Magic,

As Queen used to sing.

It makes you tingle

And shudder

And glow.

Much more than a shopping list

Or legal decree

Poetry flows from the heart,

Lyrically lancing

Through space and time

To create a universe

Of bountiful beauty,

Where even the ugliest monstrosity

Is transformed

Into heaven

On Earth.

It saddens me to think

That seemingly soulless people

Miss out

On this.

So all I can do

Is keep on singing,

Carry on writing

In the enduring hope

That one day

They will see the light.

Paul Butters

© PB 2\1\2019.

Let's Get Hysterical

Let’s get hysterical.

Let’s go mad

About the Winter Solstice passing

And our football team winning.

We party hard

For Christmas and New Year.

The Americans do Thanksgiving too.

Bad times for turkeys

Great days for making sales.

Anniversaries, birthdays and Celebrity celebrations,

Big Brother and Get Me Out of here.

X Factor and Lithuania’s Got Talent.

All excuses

For making mayhem

And a fast buck.

Any present will do

No matter how useless

Or banal

At times like these.

Compulsory enjoyment

Even if you’re ill.

Oh what sheep we are.

(Apologies to sheep).

We must conform

Comply

Follow fickle fashion

And hug the herd.

We may be social animals,

But woe betide anyone

Who is

Different.

“Be yourself” they say,

But do they mean it?

Course not.

The “Individual” is cursed,

Cast out

A leper.

It’s time to stand back,

See the truth

And find your inner soul.

Break the brainwash,

Defy the dictators

The Nanny State

And really,

Really

Be You.

Paul Butters

© PB 1\1\2019.