John Paul Butler

John Paul Butler Poems

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

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

It's a lazy wind
that blows right through
Not around things
as it's supposed to

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

I stroll down this road
That l have traversed so many times
And in various ways
At different points in my life

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

Last night she cried her saltwater
From the oceans within
Deep into my eyes
Which cleansed my sight

A salt skin
Covers us both
Dried over night
From sweat

As if lit somehow from within itself
Just like my lover awake again now
The candle flame flickers
An eye blinking and winking away

Nothing between the ears
Empty chest
The right to bare arms

It burns cold
Over the ocean
To the horizon
This silver strip

I was bitten by the Big Apple
I was bitten to my core
Now it's the apple of my eye
It's now the apple of so much more

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

I can't remember the circumstances but
We were at home and weirdly alone for once
The children all out and about elsewhere
Engaged somehow in separate activities

Those zawns
Give yawns
To the dawns
That the day adorns

The only reason l'm
writing now
Is because l just love
this pen


In the summer
This place is tame
A serene scene
A sanctuary of sorts

The Best Poem Of John Paul Butler

Write Angles

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

And you can try angles
To make triangles
But if they're not right
They'll be the wrong ones

Even if you actually do
Pick the right angles
What remains unused
Will always be left angles

And just maybe
All of these angles
Aren't angles but angels
Of a misspelt youth

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