Wednesday 28 December 2016

Stream of Consciousness




Yesterday morning I woke at 4AM again
And once more my mind got churning.
I juggled with some words in my head,
Composing free verse on how I write my poems.

I wondered whether I should grab a pad
And write.
Or even get on my laptop.
But I made myself go back to sleep,
Forgetting it all.

So here I am,
A day later at 10.30AM,
Pouring out these verses:
A sort of Stream of Consciousness.

No thought of structure
Or metre
Or rhyme.
Just emphasising certain words and phrases
By giving them separate verses
Of their own.

Something I learnt once
When reading a book in Pudsey Library
About how to teach kids to write poetry
An easy way.

Unfettered by considerations of metre or form,
You can express yourself freely,
As deep as you wish.

Just let your emotion
Or Philosophy
Run free.
Let your words cascade
Over those shiny pebbles.
Babbling along through winding willows,
To crash over waterfalls
In a crescendo of sound.

A stream that sparkles in the light
Of sun or moon (and stars),
Wafted by scents of abundant flowers
And sappy cut grass.
God’s Grandeur radiating all around.
Enjoy.

Paul Butters

Saturday 24 December 2016

Focus




We seek The Purpose of Life,
Or just some Meaning;
A Philosophy,
As we stare through the formless mists of time.
Yet Existence simply Is,
As is Life:
Wondrous phenomenon
That happens.

We are taught to give each thing a function:
The wheel that rolls us on,
A pen which writes.
But Life is Life
Nothing more.
Generations take turns to live,
Passing on the baton.

Trying to breed ever greater Minds,
We yearn to be Immortal.
Studying those regenerating jellyfish,
The search is on
For The Fountain of Youth.

Yet maybe it’s time to stop trying
To make sense of it all.
Perhaps it’s time to spring into action,
And Get On With It.

Paul Butters

Monday 12 December 2016

SAD



As I said this time last year,
We likely get just one taste of life.
So why do we spend so many hours
Watching daytime TV,
Engaging in petty feuds,
Following football and other trivial things
(In my particular case).
Money worries and relationships,
Celebrity and “news”,
Such preoccupation with the mundane.

So I must turn my mind to higher peaks,
Wherever or whatever they may be.
Puzzle the Purpose
Find The Way,
Give life meaning.
Overcome that Seasonal Affective Disorder,
To brighten every day.

As we head towards The Spring,
Think on what joys that’s going to bring.

Paul Butters

(This poem is dedicated to Mum (Louie (Louisa)), who passed away on 12\12\13).