Mr Black & the Muse

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I’m addicted to you
& your crooked muse smile
Mr Black

I’ll have you
know
you stole my heart
rendering her useless,
my undoing held together
your thick lens
penetrating drunk
& debauchery

Incognito
for a moment
nothing existed
except obsession,
compulsion mimicking
lust & Mr Black
rose like a Phoenix
under my skin

Every day, an eternity
to wait for you
my muse feigning temperance
the door handle turns
& I pick myself up off the floor
giggle & take the piss
Mr Black doesn’t
waste any time

Concord flights of fancy
meticulous mind-numbing marathons
whatever the abandoned mood once was,
I’m yours
you had me way back then,
smashed, crash landing on my bed
the sun about to rise
on the last place we left from

My balcony:
a table & two chairs
the Great Dividing Range
filtered by my Veuve Clichot
you with your Winnie Red
threshold surpassed
a box of beers
tartan shorts & flannelette

*

I make you coffee
night owls wouldn’t normally complain
under ordinary circumstances
but we are far from that place
the buzz & bleep of mobile phones
alter-egos known or not
pierce our cocoon
we drag our arse into work

Dreaming, we see all the children
& Grandma
Mr Black runs amok
kids fight over whose turn it is on the track
blue smoke & green grass
Yamahahahahahahaha!
my Harley under wraps
coveted like our memories

© Copyright 2014, Jodine Derena Butler.  All Rights Reserved

My Grandparents

When I think about my Grandparents, I am instantly drawn back to my childhood.

So many memories.  Drum kits under the bed, electric helicopters, the piano, so many green bottles on the wall! The boat they named after me – Jodine. The new Kent fire. Those two Retro chairs.  The Army hut in the back yard where I got up to mischief.  The original Hibiscus Coast Taxi – a beautiful white Chevrolet that was to become the symbol of family pride. Poisonous berries on the way to the front door…I thought about eating them sometimes just to see what would happen.

So many memories.  Being with my Grandparents saved my life.  I spent every chance I had with them and their energy.  My home away from home.  I played dress-ups, created pottery, made string kaleidoscopes, learned how to draw, listened to Johnny Cash and Demis Roussous and learned how to sing.  I learned how to be independent… and how to access the Red paint from under the house!

So many memories of driving up North to the Bach at Omamari Beach in the Great White Chev, always looking for the road markers along the way: The Three Furlongs Tavern at Kaiwaka on the way to the Brynderwyns.  Playing Eye Spy and  “Are we there yet” all the way, completely winding them both up till we spied the Toka Toka hill (thinking it was some sort of magic mountain pacifier) . I remember learning to drive the Chev too but I preferred the yellow Beach buggy, taking it out every chance I got to speed along the beach by myself – bliss.

So many memories of wild west coast surf, Tussock grass, sunburn, cliffs, caves, rock pools, the Kai Iwi Lakes, Contiki’s, Kahawai, Toheroa’s, Tua Tua’s and heading up to Bluff for fresh Green-lipped Mussels off the rocks. My world was full of good old-fashioned love.  My Grandparents taught me how to believe in myself too.  I now know what it means to follow my dreams and remain true to myself no matter what other people might say, think, speculate or fabricate.  To this day I still remain free-spirited.  I live a very full, open, creative, exotic and vibrant life.  I will not be told to shut up.  I will not be put in my ‘so-called’ place.  My voice will no longer be silenced.

My Grandparents were my whole world back then and now that Nana is with Grandpop, I can once again see them sitting side by side, their bones warmed by the fire, looking out onto the world they helped create – for me, for us.  My Grandparents will always be my happy place.  I even have a fond memory of Nana’s tea that was more like soup and her cheese and pickle onion sandwiches.  My Grandparents were my first love.  Nothing or no one can take these memories away from me.  I was there for it all and I thank them both for loving me.

Vows

Jason
you are my best friend
my confidante
my partner
my lover

The best day of my life was when you said you would run with me.
I love you Jason with all of my heart.  I will run with you forever.

I promise to make a faithful and passionate marriage with you.
I promise to treat you with kindness, respect, appreciation and playfulness.
I promise to participate in our relationship, even when it might be hard.
I promise to make laughter an integral part of our family.
I promise to love you all my life until we meet again in the next.
I promise to be your _______________________ for the rest of my life.

Thank you for loving me.

Grey Matters

Trax (bar) in Haight Ashbury

Trax (bar) in Haight Ashbury (Photo credit: shandopics)

She stepped down from the Northern Explorer, weary after the 12 hour sojourn from Auckland to Wellington, her body distorted from the array of baggage adhered haphazardly to her frame.  All reasonable precautions had been taken to appear non-plussed but she was feeling more than a little ridiculous.  She unfurled her fingers letting go of the hand luggage, simultaneously dropping one shoulder, gravity to catch and release the taut strap of her laptop.  All hit the platform with a collective thud!

To make matters worse, the baggage door rolled up, revealing more purple Sabini suitcases, added one by one to the mountain of dogs balls now assembled on the pavement. She picked past heads, shoulders and backs, furtive in her search of recognition, an extra pair of hands, a baggage cart.  It had been 12 years since the last time he had crash landed on her doorstep, his purple XC Falcon panel van parked in the driveway.  Jandles, jeans and a T-shirt, cap in hand.

He was at Trax Bar, pint in hand, chatting up the female bouncer, blind.  His goat-skin duffel bag slung over the corner of a bar stool.  He had let his Yahoo Serious attitude to life be rolled up into unkempt, sun-kissed natural dreadlocks that leapt out at all angles, confronting even the most liberal senses.  He was in no hurry.  What did she expect?  It had been 20 years since they were an item that could only be described as an ‘eventful interlude at the crossroads of life’ from which he would soon trade in everything he had accumulated and buy a ticket to nowhere in particular.  His favourite mantra being replayed like an adored record on repeat; “Life is black & white.  There is no grey”.

Grey was something she understood but for once there were no shades of grey anywhere to be found.  What on earth had possessed her to cross the Tasman with her most worldly possessions, an array of Summer dresses and shoes?  She could feel her stomach tighten, those butterflies rising like her awareness now threatening to expose her guilt.  She had walked away from her former life, pinning all her hopes and desires, clutching at another loose end she knew much better to mess around with.  What had urged her on was the hope that time had been kind to him, that an old flame may be re-ignited.  God knows she needed to feel something.  Her mind and body had long since turned down any flicker of excitement, preferring to wallow in stoic self-pity, feigning permanent damage had rendered her helpless.

Myles had always been her potential escape.  Her reason to live without seeming too dramatic.  She would have gone anywhere with him, she reflected, knowing he would see straight through her faux par – her cheeks peak that most wanton shade of Crimson.  She lowered her eyes before making up her mind, wrestling her way toward the lone baggage cart, daring anyone to make a beeline.  Heading into the terminal, sweat running down the crevice of her back, mobile phone in hand, she tapped out what she needed to say and waited, checking her appearance in its reflection.

Her long brown hair was a true expression of her frustration.  Her large blue eyes smudged and blurred, as her once perfect Charcoal eyeliner betrayed her yet again.  Why did it have to be the hottest clear day of the most piss poor Summer New Zealand had ever known?

Eyes Open

eyes

there was that initial air about you.
the first time we met
you were looking through
steel-framed glasses
but not through me;
you were stealing glances.
I could see you
putting two & two together

you said you were single
although your eyes
were screaming 
NO!
wary at the thought
of yet another
indecent intrusion
into your most private after-life
& I gave you space

your camera rested on your heart
I recall it suspended -
another set of eyes
leaving lasting impressions
that only you could render
I lowered my dress, let it fall to the ground
& you captured me
my heart beating like a drum

I waited for you
when I was on tour
when I was laid up on my bed
abandoned, lonely in Thailand
I wondered what sort of a man you were then,
those glasses reflecting memories like prisms;
living colour
lighting up my room

I see you now
those delightfully dirty
deep dark eyes of yours
smouldering desire,
my cheeks aflame
is all I can do – Crimson
you leave me breathless
& I am head over feet

I can feel you inside me
even before you reach out
& touch my face
kiss my lips, neck
trace your fingertips
over my aching body
to where you melt me
my musk saturating your senses

your bones ache.
it is with love that I push
& pull the fibers of your undoing
stretch your consciousness to new lengths
winding & rewinding thoughts: feelings
every muscle memory
like a ray of sunshine
bursting through & into me

old souls
but we are still children
playful, inquisitive, experimental
age plays between us
our laughter, infectious
we remember those unfettered feelings
like they were yesterday
fifteen going on forty

*

Maureen said the number 8
is symbolic & infinite
eight years between us
the two of us plus six children equals 8
the 26th of March, 2013 our anniversary, equals 8
I will lock the car four more times for you baby
because two 4′s make an eight
we will have 40 years together too my darling

I have known you a lifetime.
everything about you is familiar, safe
your eyes are open
& I just keep falling into you
I love you more now
than this morning
but not as much as tomorrow -
I can hear you smiling in recognition

we are truly blessed
I am very happy
you are everything I could ever hope for
& then some
when I see your face,
watch your eyes lower for that split second
before holding my gaze, grinning
I know with all my heart, that you were meant for me

© Copyright 2013, Jodine Derena Butler.  All Rights Reserved

The Mariner’s Tale

Home7
“Land Ahoy!”

his First Mate
not more than two feet away,
still doesn’t see her coming

after the full force
hits the stern with a swift kick
aimed right up the Jacksie!

“Bring her about
hard & fast
& shut your bloody mouth boy!”

she giggles

it’s an entertaining Port
full of surprises, guffaws
& sudden gusts of wind;
her Devil’s Tongue
quick as lightning
her Siren Song
slipping in & under

he lays it on thick

he would feed me grapes
if it weren’t for the Oyster’s
Swordfish, Tuna, Salmon – Lumpfish
a good bottle of Veuve
serving up a concoction
of frivolity with a sharp spank
on the arse for good measure

no sea legs required here

our naked flamboyance
barely creates a ripple
our island paradise
looking out over the sea
from a safe distance -
your bridge

I can see the stars up there
& planets
my world seems bigger
brighter
I stare transfixed into space
but I am not lost
I feel strangely nestled

Green Tree Frogs
& the hope of a Vine snake or two
keep my curiosity peaked

Michael rows
his boat ashore

I am not unlike an island

© Copyright 2013, Jodine Derena Butler.  All Rights Reserved

These Days

Existential Hand

Existential Hand (Photo credit: w00tdew00t)

1.
I am sad

I wake up alone these days
I wake up
alone

I make my breakfast
thinking
I am changing
a lifetime of bad habits

these days are nothing
like I imagined

I’ve seen better days
I think
maybe if the hollow feeling
in my chest decides
one way or another
to cut me
loose

my existential crisis;
one foot forward
two steps back

these days
turned out nothing
like I had planned

2.
Where do I belong?
Am I where I’m meant to be?
Who do I trust?
Why would I want to anyway?

3.
My bed is calling me
to my happy place
in more ways than one

she comforts me
while my pillows
are makeshift muscles
I spoon
& wrap around
& cling,
burying myself

I long to get lost
to disappear
to re-emerge somewhere else;
transform
into something
resembling reason

4.
They say I run

5.
More often than not
I turn my back
close my eyes
& hope for the best

6.
They say ‘feel the fear
& do it anyway’

that’s never been a problem
until now

today
every move I make
takes my breath away

7.
These days
I am like a Lily

© Copyright 2012, Jodine Derena Butler.  All Rights Reserved