Paul Butters Poems

How dare you treat me like this?
You must be taking the Mick.
Have you no respect to pay?
Will you just send me
...

Look up above your head and you will see
A swirl of stars, all shimmering across the sky.
Countless specks of sand on a seemingly endless beach.
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That swirling snow
Beneath the lamp
Just down the street:
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I love linguistic lusciousness,
While lounging on my laptop here.
These words that flow and flush the forest floors:
Iambic tetrameters and pentameters,
...

Film and television cameras:
Roving eyes for many of us.
But are We the cameras on the world
For an audience somewhere out there
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Quarks, photons, gluons: sub-atomic particles:
Quantum fluctuations
That wink in and out of existence.
Where do they come from?
...

A metaphor, the ultimate actor.
Let’s mix it into a Whisky blend.
To rhyme or not to rhyme,
That is the question.
...

What if it's not Groundhog Day but Groundhog Life?
Or, when I die, will I simply pass on God's baton to the next living thing?
Will I go to heaven?
Or find Nirvana.
...

A poem is built with sounds
Liberally littered with alliteration
Rhyming reason
Aspiring assonance
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If I should ever say I might commit suicide
Then take me to a shrink
Straight away.
For I will have done a mental U-turn,
...