Why I Write

(Picture Credit - Blue foggy mountains from Shutterstock)

I love music

But can only sing flat.

And I can’t play musical instruments

With their baffling array of keys or strings.

So, I try to write music with words.

For I also love to write.

Distant misty hills beckon my soul

To fly amongst banks of swirling clouds

Then up into the stars.

The impossible mystery of infinity intrigues me:

Beyond, beyond, beyond, beyond…

Endless stories unfold before us

(Yes, you can come too!)

Eternity that has no horizon.

I love to love

My love,

For love makes the world go round

Or so I heard.

I love all plants and animals

And people too:

All that Mother Multiverse has spawned

And reared.

Love is all we need

They sang

And they were right.

So let’s get loved up

With lorra loving.

Feel that love.

For that’s why I write.

Paul Butters

© PB 3\2\2020.

Repetition

 (Picture Credit - (himself) Stewart Copeland net)

Repetition is the best petition.

Drive that refrain into your brain.

It’s my mission.

Driven on by Stewart Copeland the musician.

Drums and dance

Send me into a trance.

Transcendental music

Any way you choose it.

Repetition, repetition, repetition

Just as potent as nuclear fission.

Sometimes, for me, it’s just too much.

As crazy as Screaming Lord Sutch.

Yet here I make a telling submission

About the power of repetition

As beautiful as a painting by Titian.

A composition to appeal to your cognition

To get you into a better condition

Without transition.

There are four hundred and ninety rhymes

Of repetition

And that’s not something from superstition.

But I’d better avoid a war of attrition

Even with your kindly permission.

It’s great to prance

And have a dance.

I’m glad you’ve given

This poem a glance

To give its rhythms every chance.

My aim is to enhance

And cut through the boredom like a lance.

Poems are music

Poems are Romance

So let’s advance

Then make a stance.

That’s my position.

Paul Butters

© PB 2\2\2020 (first line written 31\1 then notes made 1\2). Final line added 3\2.

(Poem inspired by Stewart Copeland's TV series "Adventures in Music" on BBC 4).

Unclassified

(Picture Credit - Howtogeek com)

Please don’t view me as white

Or working class

Maybe middle class

Or straight or gay

(I happen to be straight)

Or Leaver or Remainer

Believer or Non-Believer

Aristocrat or Commoner

Patrician or Pleb

Or Anything else.

Don’t put me in a box

Or file

Or stereotype.

I’d rather be Unclassified

Or seen simply as

A Human Being.

Paul Butters

© PB 18\1\2020.

Memorable

 (Picture Credit - Meyer Vacation Rentals)

Whatever you write, make it memorable.

Just as memorable as Ivan the Terrible.

No need to be incredible

Just make those words indelible

From that mind of yours

And also theirs of course.

I used to think that rap

Was not very good.

Haha.

But now I see

Those rhymes so right for me,

And even raps that scan.

Yeah Man!

There’s always time

For a rhyme

Sublime.

Just let them chime.

These rhymes they staple things to your brain

To help you remember every refrain.

Things passed on by word of mouth

From Arctic regions right down to The South.

Remember, remember

That month of November.

Something that sticks

With each dying ember.

Keep aware of the power of words,

As musical as a flock of birds.

Do give in to the urge to write,

To make our day so gloriously bright.

Paul Butters

© PB 13\1\2020 (2). From jottings of 7\1.

Let's Go

(Picture Credit - All Blacks from Curias)

Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go.

Let’s have a really great show.

Let’s fly just like an arrow,

Faster than a sparrow.

We know we are the best.

Let’s put it to the test.

Prove we are worthy champions

From The South Pole to the Grampians.

Just see our motivation:

Our hope is our foundation.

We’re full of self belief

And going to cause some grief.

We know we are so great.

To play we cannot wait.

Once more unto the breach:

A win’s within our reach.

Paul Butters

© PB 13\1\2020. From a diary jotting 7\1.