John Paul Butler

Born to this world
In order to die
Sentenced to breath
With no reason why
...

Wrecked angles
Don't form rectangles
When they've come out
Of the angle grinder
...

I was bitten by the big apple
I was bitten to my core
Now it's the apple of my eye
Now it's the apple of much more
...

She's so lazy
could be dead
pushing up Daisy
from her bed
...

It's a lazy wind
that blows through
Not around things
like it's supposed to
...

The only reason I'm
writing now
Is because I love
this pen
...

She left his kiss upon her lips
Letting it's moisture sink in
It found the way to her heart
And flapped to the beat of love
...

Rabbits with beards
Always give me the weirds
Then I'm deranged
And mad and estranged
...

A salt skin
Covers us both
Dried overnight
From sweat
...

I have buried
Deep within me
An apple's corpse
To make a tree
...

Your heart is in the country
You used to have a place there
To go and visit at the weekends
And rediscover that part of you
...

In the summer
this place is tame,
a serene scene,
a sanctuary of sorts
...