September 2011
3 posts
The Docks
The ships had since been scrapped
whilst the sailors had long since evaporated from this place.
Boards covered the windows of
dockers’ pubs, whilst warehouses forgot their purpose.
Old Lady
She always sat at the market by the port
looking at boats and people just the same.
I doubted she had ever been on either.
Never enjoyed a romantic cruise,
or travelled a million miles
on someone she loved.
Snowman
“Are you cold?”
Shouted the Snowman,
to his mate in the next allotment.
“A bit,” came the reply.
May 2011
2 posts
4 tags
Jasmine
Jasmine and I lay in the flowerbed,
amongst the buds about to bloom.
We moved intricately,
crushing shoot
pressing seed.
Watching as petals fell.
I tasted Jasmine,
pricked her.
Allowed scents to fill senses.
Flesh ripped by teeth and thorns.
Our roots penetrated,
impacted.
Pain was no dam.
We blossomed,
allowed our colours out.
Only Jasmine flowered in that bed.
©...
1 tag
The Mocha
Looks down into Starbucks Flask
tear falls in.
Ruins the Cafe mocha.
© James Butler 2011
April 2011
1 post
Toilet Tissues & Seawalls
We’re not concrete in a seawall.
People are alive
not cemented together.
We move, sway with the quakes
bend with the wind.
Hold fast.
Until the wave smashes us apart.
Rips our walls
tugs us out to drift.
Wipes its but
washes its hands
and flushes us anew.
We rebuild our seawalls,
prepare to weather the next.
© James Butler 2011
March 2011
1 post
It Always Rains on Fiddlers Ferry
Fiddlers Ferry powered the lights,
kept the TV on.
I remember being sat in granddad’s van
in the passenger seat on a booster.
We drove out that way before nursery,
let the pigeons out before racing them
back to the house.
When I was six we moved.
My mum spent ages in showrooms
looking at “modern developments with four bedrooms,
the master with an en-suite and an idyllic view”
of...
January 2011
2 posts
It Always Rains on Fiddlers Ferry (version 1)
Fiddlers Ferry powered the lights in our house.
It also kept the TV on and the tape recorder.
Later, it kept the discs in the Playstation spinning
and my iPod charged.
I remember being sat in my granddad’s van
in the passenger seat on a booster.
We used to drive out that way before nursery,
let the pidgins out before racing them back to the house.
When I was six we moved.
Me...
Sonnet Yeah
Sonnet Yeah
Shall I compare thee to a summers day?
Errr no.
Iʼm not so cheesy as to talk about the bloody, blooming, buds of may
Or how our summers have gone away.
Iʼm not going to say how perfect you are
Or how nature pales in comparison.
Iʼm not going to reflect on our travels
Or compare our time together to heaven.
You donʼt need to hear these things from me.
We donʼt need...
December 2010
2 posts
Mormon
I met two Mormons in the street the other day.
They asked me about my beliefs
so I told them I was an Atheist and Gay.
They beat me up,
stole my dignity.
Just as Joseph Smith stole theirs.
© James Butler 2010
Underage and Pregnant: A Nativity
Joseph turned and looked at Mary.
She glanced up at him, whimpered,
clasped her stomach.
“Ow,” she whispered.
“What’s wrong,” slurred Joseph.
“Nothing.” Mary looked down,
back at the unopened letter.
The DNA test results laid within.
Joseph knew the baby wasn’t his
but insisted on making sure.
Mary also remained puzzled,
they were virgins.
Just two young jews,
with a...
November 2010
2 posts
Poetry is Theft
Poetry is theft.
It takes an act
diminishes it, drags from context.
Make a verse.
The poet binds it to a page
locked up in a book.
The book is released to the mainstream.
Sold, repackaged and shipped out.
The poem is put on a spoon
and forced down the mouths of 6J.
Analyzed in exam.
Context forgotten.
We live in an Eden
where shackles keep you free
© James Butler 2010
New York, New York - 11/09/01
The natureless jungle wakes.
A whole world full of grey
and black battery humans
makeing their way to 40-storey coops.
The last tent city has gone.
No real artists remain in Greenwich.
The poor are shipped to Harlem
and bussed back in overalls.
8:46 AM.
Reports of a plane, a tragic accident.
The worlds media focuses in,
expands the microcosm.
9:03 AM. No accident.
Panic. Anger....
October 2010
1 post
I am The Falling Man
I am The Falling Man.
I fell.
I didn’t jump.
I fell.
Fell far and fast.
Tumbling, burning.
Flash. Flash. Flash.
Thud.
© James Butler 2010
August 2010
6 posts
The Voice in the Phone
The Voice in the Phone
Hour by hour you all connect to me
hear my drone
moan and tonal cries
but you donʼt say hello
you ignore
and dieʼll.
© James Butler 2010
Mcdonalds Sky (V2)
I stood by Mcdonalds the day the sky fell in.
Business as usual in “the town centre”.
Buy. Sell. Buy. Sell.
The world a watercolour
of Primark and Topshop fashion.
The bottled tans of the young
covered the pale petals of innocence.
The Big Issue sellers and
their modern street performance.
The moans of the old and the
stench of dignity lost with a dribble.
All human life is...
New York Snow
New York Snow
New York City
youʼre so pretty
Shitty, in the dirty snow.
Your buildings, higher than
the ambition of those you attract.
Your people, so alone
yet so together in the snow.
In New York snow.
© James Butler 2010
McDonalds Sky
I was stood by McDonalds the day the sky fell in.
Business as usual in the town centre.
Buy. Sell. Repeat.
The world a watercolour
of Topshop and TK Maxx fashion.
The bottled tans of the young
covered the pale petals of innocence.
The foreign Big Issue sellers
trying to outdo each other. Souls for sale.
The moans of the old and the
stench of dignity lost with disease.
All...
BA Limerick
BA Limerick
There are a firm called BA
Who wouldnʼt let us go on holiday
They cancelled their flights
Due to cabin-staff strikes.
They wanted a shitload of pay.
© James Butler 2010
The Labour Leadership: A Dr Suess style poem
And so the leadership race began
With Milli versus Milli Versus Andy Burn-ham.
They all had one goal and that goal it was so
To take over labour and sort all the woe
That David and Nick would soon leave behind
From their cuts that treated their people unkind.
Millis one and two were first into line
They threw in their hats at the same time.
One worked for Blair and one worked for Brown...