Paul Butters Poems

"Praise be to Allah, Lord of the Worlds,
The Beneficent, the Merciful.
Owner of the Day of Judgement,
Thee (alone) we worship;
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I'm no author, novelist or poet.
I'm just Me,
And don't I know it.
I don't need to be classified,
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Season of sun and sand and sea,
Holiday time for you and me.
Daylight right ‘til ten o’clock,
Don’t forget to wear sun-block.
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Cloud-hatted mountains loom over the cold lochs
As waterfalls drop
Into cool pools.
Cascading water shooshing and rushing,
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My mind meanders down those endless lanes
Then soars to realms beyond the stars.
Imagination knows no bounds
Amongst the multiverses that make up
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If God exists
He or She knows All
Is Everywhere
And Everywhen
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“Where am I? ”

Have I been transferred to hospital during the night?
I raise my head. Before me is a seemingly endless row of cubicles, each containing a bed upon which some person lies. Each person wearing a helmet and wired and piped into the back wall.
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What's poetic about a foundry worker's son,
Born and bred in Leeds, now idling my time away
In a rinky dink seaside town? What's poetic
About sitting on my laptop reading Facebook
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Make your poems Memorable,
That's what I say.
No need to be incredible,
Just let them play.
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In Poemhunter Land I am your prey,
Wherever you are,
In the Milky Way,
Or beyond!
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