Influencer

 (Picture Credit - Dreamstime dot com)

You pose and pout,

Seduction by superficial sauciness.

You tell me of your day

With that simpering voice,

Raising each last word

Long and loud.

 

You show me your flash cars,

Your sumptuous wardrobe

And who knows what else?

 

You and your kin call yourselves “Influencers” –

A great word,

But all you do is make people:

People who have grafted long and hard

For a little spare cash,

Go buy things they

Do not really need.

 

Right Said Fred was Right:

The global catwalk

Is a sham.

 

I too would love to be an “Influencer”,

Such a fine word,

But I would be one to encourage folk

To Love others,

Stop all this Conflict

Between polar opposites and extremes,

Fight only for the Common Good,

And make the world a better place

For All.

 

Paul Butters

 

© PB 15\1\2021.

Covid Lockdown Three

 

The World is all forlorn

As New Covid is born.

Time to frown,

We are getting locked down.

 

Vaccine, vaccine, vaccine, vaccine

We hear your cavalry bugle call.

Vaccine, vaccine, vaccine, vaccine

If you don’t work, the writing’s on the wall.

 

So many dead, it’s hard to bear,

So much menace in the air.

Everyone tired of this stuff,

So many folk having it rough.

 

One Lockdown was very tough

Having three is more than enough.

Children getting schooled at home

By parents who are on the dole.

 

Americans fight amongst themselves,

Instead of putting food on the shelves.

Brits have been distracted by Brexit,

Arguably a mistimed exit.

 

Last March I asked

Will this last a year?

Well the time is coming –

It’s getting near.

 

That vaccine surely gives us hope

But where’s our second jab?

No more playing rope a dope,

This chance we have to grab.

 

No jab at all for me,

As I am sixty eight.

I’ll have to wait and see

But am prepared to wait.

 

Paul Butters

 

© PB 8\1\2021. First two lines by Norman Stevens.

SuperLeeds

 

 

(Picture Credit - Bielsa Leeds YouTube)

 

Bielsa’s Boys go bombing on.

Hear it, hear it,

Hear our song.

 

Running further than the rest,

Leeds United are the best.

Scything through the opposition,

Scoring goals our only mission.

 

Top flight teams are running scared,

Afraid of a team that’s uncompared:

Players drilled on “Murderball”,

Making them feel so very tall.

 

We’ve even a Brazilian in our team.

Bielsa buys only the cream.

Brazil themselves are doing great deeds:

They say they’re playing just like Leeds.

 

Shame about those missing fans,

Still busy washing their hands.

Can’t wait for that Elland Road roar

Celebrating every score.

 

Before too long we’ll be World Champs,

Shining bright like electric lamps.

Bamford scoring all those goals,

Shutting the mouths of Keane and Scholes.

 

Bielsa’s Boys go bombing on.

Hear it, hear it,

Hear our song.

 

Paul Butters

 

© PB 1\1\2021.

Heaven

 

 

 (Picture Credit - Thomas Cole: Garden of Eden - Games blog)

 

According to the Bible there is

“Heaven”

A high place where all good people go

When their Life’s innings is over.

But Bad folk go down to “Hell” –

To suffer “bottomless perdition”.

 

Yet we only have to look up

At the morning or evening sky

To see Planet Hell:

It’s the brightest “star” of all:

Venus!

 

And I believe

That out there amongst that ocean of stars

There is a so called “Exoplanet”

In a distant solar system

Like ours

Perhaps twice as big as Earth:

A sub-tropical world

With ice only at the very poles

And on lofty mountain tops.

 

I see a place of endless forest

Filled with butterflies

And songbirds.

Grassy plains too,

Roamed by alien buffalo.

Oceans teeming with fish

And dolphins

And colourful corals.

 

A world untroubled

By killing

Or pollution.

Dotted with tiny villages

Only

With peaceful inhabitants

Basking in afternoon suns.

 

I picture a utopian paradise

Shangri-la

Or what you will.

Another Eden,

Or if you prefer

Simply

Heaven.

 

Paul Butters

 

© PB 28\12\2020.

 

Another one for Norman Stevens.