Mark Butkus wrote about the environment for more than 20 years. In Mexico, he exercises the left side of his brain. As one of the founders of the Bar None Group he has edited two anthologies of English writing from the Costalegre region of Mexico. Caught between two worlds he now calls Chicago home.
Poems listed at Poemhunter first appeared on the Bar None Group website at: www.barnonegroup.com with the following exceptions: 'Absinthe Makes the Heart Grow Fonder' first appeared online at Stories Space and; 'For A Mother' appeared on the now dormant Basil and Spice.
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Mark Butkus Poems
La Aurora de Nueva York tiene cuatro columnas de cieno y un huracán de negras palomas que chapotean las aguas podridas.
The Day We Cried: Remembering 9/11
Shafts of light reach heavenward to where you both once stood Again you take my breath away Once more I shed a tear
Absinthe Makes the Heart Grow Fonder
The ice is drinking my Absinthe Ethereal worms dance in my glass I have to improvise while wearing spats My TV is wearing a Hawaiian shirt
From Love and Squalor
When your name is stolen from a book it's easy to lift lines I don't know if she knows it or even if it matters
The Monster Under the Bed
On the night that bin Laden died with a bullet in his head A beeping phone awoke me from a restless night's sleep
Un Rey Mago En El Nacimiento De Cristo
Hoy Yo tuve un nino en mis brazos Ha pasado mucho tiempo
For A Mother
A mother is more than a night in a delivery room She is there when needed Soothes away pain With a smile or a touch
Yours: A New York Poem
I spent the afternoon exploring As much of you as I could Feeding on your flesh With my lips and tongue
The rains that played havoc with your plans were due here by dawn There were no puddles nor drops when the day began Pure folly to think that the bales of hay would be brought in under dry skies The farmers plight is to out-maneuver the weather
As Sunset Amy dips into the sea She rises in my heart A tentative summer's smile An autumn's first kiss farewell
Was looking for some change To do the laundry on 8th Street When I came across Charlotte’s shells
Comments about Mark Butkus
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
La Aurora de Nueva York tiene
cuatro columnas de cieno
y un huracán de negras palomas
que chapotean las aguas podridas.
La aurora de Nueva York gime
por las inmensas escaleras
buscando entre las aristas
nardos de angustia dibujada.
La aurora llega y nadie la recibe en su boca
porque allí no hay mañana ni esperanza posible.
A veces las monedas en enjambres furiosos
taladran y devoran abandonados niños.
Los primeros que salen comprenden con sus huesos
que no habrá paraíso ni amores deshojados;
saben que van al cieno de números y leyes,