Companionship
True companionship
Comes from creating what you want
Creating the environment
Letting each other go
To see if we keep coming back
Home to freedom
Home to peace
Home to love
Home to our selves
Away into chaos
A way into the darkness
To find the light
The joy
The unknown
And live a fulfilling life.
So Tied Up – Cold War Kids & Bishop Briggs
© Copyright 2021, Poetry Out West, Jodine Derena Butler. All rights reserved
You don’t get to my age
Without learning a thing or two
I’ve learned to trust no one
But myself
I’m not about to risk everything
On blind faith, alone.
You think you’ve been burned?
You’re not the only one.
Do you think I haven’t been there?
Because I have, and it didn’t end well.
You think your trust is broken?
You have no idea about my life.
I’m not about to risk it all, again
When your cards are not on the table.
I am an aging woman, in a man’s world
Willing to show you who I am
To a point. The rest is up to you.
I am a partner, not a trophy
An equal, not a mistress
Older, wise, psycic and astute.
I am here now because I trusted
More than once, twice too many.
Don’t you dare tell me I have broken your trust!
When I’m the only one who is here for you.
I am still here, waiting for you
To stop cutting off your nose
Yet you expect me to trust you
Your word, your honour, your faith?
That only goes so far
Actions speak much louder than words ever will.
You have no idea how much I gave
Am willing to give, how much I have
To bring to your table —
Treat you like the King you are
But I don’t have first world choices
And I don’t want third world realities
Everything I do, is to survive
Calculating risks, hedging my bets
I don’t have to be dishonourable to do it.
I can see well enough when I look.
What I saw, was not what I wanted to see.
You, your tells betrayed you.
Nothing more, nothing less.
You are not willing or able to see me
Yet, but you will.
The best five months of your life
Is compared to borderline personalities from your past
And those voices set you up to fail.
Still, you choose to see only what you expect to see in me.
I am not here to play games.
I chose to be with you because it felt good
But you are uncomfortable with good.
You don’t know yourself as well as you think.
You are not me.
I am holistically unique and
Cruelty is not my style.
I don’t kick the dog when he’s down,
I take responsibility for my part
You will not humble yourself enough to bare.
I have not abandoned you
You pushed me away, again.
I see you for what you are
Right here, right now a mirror.
I can roll with you quite content
But I keep her on a leash
(You know exactly what I’m talking about)
Till I sense something isn’t true.
The difference is I feel,
I express and I talk to you about it.
I asked you to meet my darkness,
You left me.
I process my thoughts and feelings raw,
I know no other way
To show you what I’m willing to risk
Of myself for you.
You lie, because you think it protects me,
I call it as I see it.
I saw.
You will never know who I am
Until you see yourself through my eyes and feel.
If you actually love me
You’d show it when shit gets real
By being kinder, softer
Compassionate and loving.
I don’t need your help
to take out the rubbish.
You discarded me
Because I called bullshit.
Does that mean I was right?
Prove me wrong.
© Copyright 2021, Poetry Out West, Jodine Derena Butler. All rights reserved
Worry, picking apart my brain, forms tentacles & infiltrates the darkness demolishing barriers discarding all sense of reason.
Fear, prys open the latch & pokes it’s ugly noggin out amongst folded loops, sensing freedom & an opportunity to breed.
I recoil; form more sunken chests & box in my indignation, push it back down subterranean & throw away the key.
I threaten to rip the legs off my giant colossal squid if she doesn’t do as she’s told!
My kraken nemesis.
That self entitled bitch, sticks her beak in where it doesn’t belong!
I square off, walk the grid like an executioner plans strategy & make the first move.
I am flawed. No better than humanity subdues & ignites.
I feel ashamed
I feel ashamed
I feel ashamed
Finding my place, my people & my self taking an age to surface.
I can’t make head or tails of it.
I float, drift around in the ether, neither up or down — threads like silk ferry me away. Is this what it’s like to crack?
Psychicly split down the middle.
One half tending the earth, grows old gracefully, wears away the lines to paint a picture. The other chips away at my sanity like a termite.
She is mad. A lost cause. A first world problem searching for a third world solution, juxtaposes sense.
I don’t know if I’m any good at treading water. She’s drowning.
I think I’m gonna crack.
Who is there for me?
© Copyright 2021, Poetry Out West, Jodine Derena Butler. All rights reserved
His aura hell bent; Phoenix halo,
sparks, fire
& inertia creep.
Cool swagger sways a third eye,
the back of his head
scans in infared.
The Rainmaker’s blood
red right hand fisted to brawl,
gets it done.
Dirty deeds wipe the slate
clean — a power vacuum sealed.
Still waters run deep.
%
Hozier moves the tempest
to where the heart meets
the sun & the moon.
Atlas, holding up
the weight of the world,
brings him back down to Earth.
© Copyright 2021, Poetry Out West, Jodine Derena Butler. All rights reserved
You’re dead to me. I’m dead.
My mother with her snide, jealous perversion sticking her tongue down my husband’s throat.
Sick cunt
Shit cunt
My mother’s a fucked up, narcissistic shit cunt
and I’m a whore.
© Copyright 2020, Poetry Out West, Jodine Derena Butler. All rights reserved
If it’s not the bloody buzzing mozzies, it’s a bell jar of mixed blessings and a monologue of nothing but geese!
Voices resounding, reimagining, conjuring up memories about red shoes and dwarves and something out of Aesopica!
This totally ridiculous,
unwanted attention seeking behaviour burns my eyes, while my jaw grinds like carpet burn and my ears ache.
If I have to bite the bullet – I need to do it by 9pm and knock it back with a big shot of poison!
I’m not up for this kind of angst, destined to play and replay on repeat. I already made peace a priority but where is she now?
(Sylvia is waiting in line for electroconvulsive therapy, just to wipe the slate clean; clear the air so-to-speak).
That’s the truth of the matter!
Finding my own voice and lifting the skullcap off Pandora’s Box, just enough to breathe.
© Copyright 2019, Jodine Derena Butler & Poetry Out West. All Rights Reserved
Sitting/
Staring/
Laying/
preparing for the long rest.
Avoidance/
of people, places, sights and sounds.
Depression/
an abyss-like-nightmare that wants to kill me and I battle for my life.
Anxiety/
strangling me to within an inch of my suffocated existence.
Silence/
except for the machine head that analyses and deciphers psychic projections.
Fear/
the worst my mind can conjure, always on the lookout for my nemesis.
Panic/
attacks that leave me exhausted, foolish, irrational, exposed and defeated.
Boundaries/
overflowing – pushing people away, proving that point I once knew.
Distraction/
compulsion’s that envelop me like a synthesized loop; engulfed, and left devoid of all feeling.
Mistakes/
battles to right wrongs, that fail apallingly.
Agoraphobia/
refusing to put myself at risk, unfortunately I still need to eat.
Guilt/
burdens I endure for both of us.
Sensory deprivation/
just to make it stop!
*
Complex PTSD/
is all of this and more.
Trauma/
leaves a lifelong scar.
© Copyright 2018, Jodine Derena Butler & Poetry Out West. All Rights Reserved
“I think we’ve been put through the emotional wringer and there are only fraying threads left of the tapestry we once sewed together” JD Butler
Just like me to need a pacifier when the going gets tough but
it’s not all about me.
You’ve changed – maybe we’ve both changed, but not for the better. You used to care if I cried but
not any more.
I guess you’re strung out, over-worked, under-paid, under-sexed and looking for a way out in your Red Dead Redemption II,
outback adventure.
Maybe you also feel trapped? What if I left, left the house for you to rent? I can go anywhere to live
and start again.
Sydney, Melbourne, Perth perhaps. 6 months here, 6 months there (in New Zealand). Reinventing myself
is what I’m good at.
Jezabel is never too far away for me to find a way to survive. She never leaves me or changes. I can count on her
to do the right thing.
I’ll miss you. Everything about you. How wonderfully beautiful you are with your deep dark brown eyes. You are talented, loving and rich beyond anything resembling money.
I consider
myself blessed.
It’s time I moved on. I’ve reached a point where I don’t think we can offer each other the best part of ourselves any more. I think I hold you back from your true potential.
I think you resent not seeing your friends as often as you would like – cultivate those
friendships and opportunities.
I think you would feel better with money in your own pocket. I want to see you happier, less frustrated,
less aloof and less distracted.
When I met you, you were larger than life, full of happiness, generosity, love. You were loyal to me.
I think we’ve been put through the emotional wringer and there are only fraying threads left of the tapestry
we once sewed together.
I’m distressed. I’m trying to preserve the last of my sanity in order, to survive.
I’m concerned. I want to give you as much as I can for you to feel secure. You’ve worked hard and
I have no intention of ruining you.
I’m not like my ex because I love you – he never did.
I don’t want to see you cry, or curl up and die inside,
but I still choose
to run again this time.
© Copyright 2018, Jodine Derena Butler & Poetry Out West. All Rights Reserved
It’s going to hurt digging in, under my skin.
\
Trust. Pain.
Death before dishonour – the Cold War sits in Sylvia’s parlour,
pretending patience is a virtue. We all watch,
a slow burn, already warming the tips
of her lasciviously long
fingers,
licking at her lips.
/
She would rather shake you all off, than let loose another tirade,
another stone, another reason to beg
forgiveness.
Sabotage sinking to a new low.
\
Silvia’s far too unreasonable, although
she prefers irrational; madness defining her in the end. Hands
& feet securely strapped,
her mouth,
stuffed shut with gauze & gaffer tape.
No sign of life – metal bars
& padded cells
resembling reason.
/
Floral oriental lilies.
\
Shes always known how to let go.
© Copyright 2018, Jodine Derena Butler & Poetry Out West. All Rights Reserved
“Karma…she doesn’t rely on intel, cointel, black or psy ops of any kind” JD Butler
1.
Relationships,
are not all they’re cracked up to be.
They are like sabotaged roses; severed from stems,
rolling like heads,
to feel like
Oh!
/
I don’t know.
2.
Denial,
is like sleep walking, except star gazing in day dreams,
avoiding
a fourth kind encounter, shining a light beam on all our useless airs & graces.
Waking hours are left,
wanting.
3.
Karma’s, not any dirtier than her alter ego would suggest either.
At least she let’s you in,
ties you up,
then fucks you up the arse before she withdraws.
/
In her world, she doesn’t care.
She doesn’t rely on intel, cointel, black or psy ops of any kind,
in order to see past you & into the future.
To her, we are all space invaders that have the potential to devour.
4.
Russia, may be all over the West but Brainiac’s got the universe covered.
He sucks & fucks his way though world’s several times over – therefore, we won’t have a shit show in hell, by the time he gets here.
Putin’s already won his war anyway (the West is going down).
By the time you realise WTF just happened, that warm thermonuclear feeling you have between your legs –
will be soiling more than just your knickers.
5.
There is no infinity & beyond when relationships are run on bullshit.
© Copyright 2018, Jodine Derena Butler & Poetry Out West. All Rights Reserved
One camel toe please,
two new boobs,
one new neck,
one flat stomach
& two stick arms.
The goal has been exceeded, in Thailand.
/
Swell hell, can go to hell!
Karma tells me she’s having Keto tonight.
Next stop, Brazil.
One fat transfer please,
two stick legs
& a Partridge in a pear tree.
© Copyright 2018, Jodine Derena Butler & Poetry Out West. All Rights Reserved
Bangkok deconstructed:
fractured concrete buildings, ripped apart as I watch from my Somerset window.
Steel, jutting haphazard in tangled knots; a once perfectly acceptable infrastructure,
now crumbling blocks fall into piles of useless rubble, while machinery scrapes the lot into a perfect square level playing field.
Ready for the next wave of antagonists selling prosperity,
pins & pegs.
/
Nips & tucks,
scalpel’s cutting across corners, aligning smooth curves with invisible sutures.
Skin, falling into plastic bags; trophies with twistie ties, all captured by Five Eyes.
Fat globules disperse & intermingle among the blood & yellowing toxic waste,
stretch marks & saggy skin. Torture under white lights (hung, drawn & quartered), like medieval madness.
Discarded pieces of meat/flesh going up in smoke, incinerated into giant plumes.
*
Rancid ashes & suffocating dust resuscitating enlightenment
into a new age.
© Copyright 2018, Jodine Derena Butler & Poetry Out West. All Rights Reserved
“…his mantra postulating pleasure & someone slips up, spilling yet another cocktail” JD Butler
1.
Lady Jane breaks out into a smile, allowing her eyes to wander over Ashcat – watching play unfettered magnificently, staring at his beautiful body wanting, waiting for kisses & licks to parlay, his hands moving mountains.
2.
Ashcat, completely at home & grounded, giving; a generous lover of life & people (like she used to be before trauma showed her ugly), he takes the cake with no false pride – her ego aside.
He leaves her pinched – the tweaked kind (still not quite sure she made it out of purgatory), but all she can think about is decòr, finding that perfect vintage pattern, making bunting & a vendor box full of surprises.
3.
Lady Jane heal’s, while showing up under every stone who fake really are; womanizing, homophobic, racist, misogynist, hillbilly rednecks with mother complexes, she steer’s well clear.
Trust mistaking bogan’s for diamonds – fake faux for everything they’re worth (consciously unaware) & yet here he is authentic, laughter lines up between them & light sparks beam.
4.
Ashcat, full of life’s sugar & spice; saffron, baked Spanish cheesecake, sorbet & wine, swings 1920’s while Jane’s fat lady croon’s to wild cherries & Winehouse electro beats, ushering in new sensations where she doesn’t want to wipe that smirk from her face.
He hands her the mic & confidence soars, roaring through the midnight tunes ecstatic. He breaks out into an albatross the moment she hits her groove, arms pushing & pulling – MC funky time grinds her way into heaven, deliriously happy.
5.
It’s been an age in-between gigs, bands & dance halls, where her voice belted out highs & low’s to crowds of private dancer’s & partners swigging on beers, peering through plumes of green smoke. Auckland, on any given weekend seven years ago.
A complete cellular cycle gone by, where she sold it all for a plane ticket & a ride on a rollercoaster at the Cairns Show – the only thrill worth repeating. Now, she rolls back the years side-stepping potholes & speed bumps, without checking out her rear view for crazy motherfuckers, riding up her arse.
6.
A trip to Port with the top down blow’s the cobwebs, converting sea beans into tapas & something that blow’s her mind instead of arachnophobia (crab slider’s as close as it gets to eight legs). One brief unpleasant memory is replaced with a multitude of self soothing layers.
7.
Circus hijink’s at the yacht club – neon hoola hoops, Lady Jane wearing a purple corset handing out lollies & buxom beauties swanning about fanning burlesque, a sea of legs two-stepping tuxedos, federer’s & fancy candy canes. All it took was a little effort, a time machine & something worth fighting for on their part.
Both of them look karma in the face, willing everyone around them to join in the feast; happy, pulling them out of their own little world’s into old school vintage frivolity. It doesn’t take long for contagion to spread outward in waves of pure, pulsing momentum & before you know it, Lady Jane is whisked off her feet, Ashcat taking her flapper hand in his leading her astray backstage.
8.
An after party, extends to more bubbles & a jacuzzi full to the brim – delightful mayhem unfolds as Lady Jane unfasten’s her corset, Ashcat losing his cravatt & all of their twisted innuendos culminate in uncomplicated hedonism; flesh, tripping the night fantastic!
Lady Jane doesn’t complain. She has it all & Ashcat is himself in all of his illuminated glory; batting those thick lashes, his deep brown eyes a beauty to behold. He smiles before ordering another round, his mantra postulating pleasure & someone slips up, spilling yet another cocktail.
9.
A late afternoon checkout sky, invites their bodies to embrace, Lady Jane rolls over & Ashcat fits the mould perfectly, heavy breathing stirring slumber from an evening full of stars.
10.
The parties over, it’s time to pack up.
© Copyright 2017, Jodine Derena Butler & Poetry Out West. All Rights Reserved
“Love & trust; butterflies dancing the jitterbug of intimacy” JD Butler
Eros,
enlightened, child-like & open, a huge lotus in full bloom, full of all the goodness in this world, his beautiful broken body without any malevolent, preconceived notion’s designed to use & abuse.
He stole Psyche away, saving her spirit in the process, magnetic pulses strobe lighting his way ahead, kinesthetic mind & limbs – delightful fullbodied jolts, his presence filling up the many holes in her senses.
Psyche,
a mere mortal woman; barefoot, pedicured nails flashing glimpses of autumn in-between the dirt, her toes digging in, surrounded by jealous sister’s who would pick & pull her apart given half the chance.
She struggles, resisting all that is good for her, sidestepping melodies with fragrant twists & turns; allowing old fashioned vintage love to lead her astray, before two left feet trip up & over, falling into his arms.
Trust,
in full swing, is the opposite of temptation & betrayal, so she stays & sways to his tune, soul breathing learning to trust a backbeat into grace.
© Copyright 2017, Jodine Derena Butler & Poetry Out West. All Rights Reserved
#dailyprompt
“Persephone never quite forgave injustice, but she did learn to shed her skin” JD Butler
You came over larger than life, in all your big beautiful buxom-ness,
I got you naked.
My legs wrapping themselves around you like spider star’s, our flambuoyant embraces creating seismic ripples in our milky way.
When you weren’t whingeing about the cold – manifesting uncontrollable shivers & shakes, I watched your face smile like iridescent plankton sparkling in the moonlight; the ebb & flow of your once moored reserve.
You let it all hang out under cover of darkness, except for artificial red lights intermittently flashing, innocent for all of it’s risquè innuendos but oh so enlightening!
*
I don’t presume to know you intimately, although you remind me of Persephone – Hades having honed her fury, tempering Demeter’s mournful wrath all thanks to Hercate.
My third eye dived into your psyche, recognising myself in your reflection. Tidal waves of emotion crashed through and over, till I could see and you could see me.
*
Persephone never quite forgave injustice, but she did learn how to shed her skin & find rebirth in the spring,
bursting into wild rain.
© Copyright 2017, Jodine Derena Butler & Poetry Out West. All Rights Reserved
Live your life wishing well, for that is the only thing that will define you”, JD Butler
I know you loved me, because you still watch me, but guess what? I loved you too & where are we now?
I’m happy. I don’t know what you are but I feel you. Even now your eyes look me up & down from afar.
Such is life. You lost your shit & treated me like shit but guess what? This is the last thing you will ever read about you.
My life is mine & you can never take that from me, unless you follow through with your threats to torture, rape & murder.
That’s all you hold on to. Hate. It defines you in your moans, wingeing about this & that, who has done you wrong deserving payback.
Live your life wishing well, for that is the only thing that will define you. You owe it to your girls.
You have your head screwed in a vice.
© Copyright 2017, Jodine Derena Butler & Poetry Out West. All Rights Reserved
I’m afraid to let you in
fear
open myself up in case I make another mistake
his hands around my throat
turning my vulnerability into high voltage more powerful than I
fear
harming me more than my imaginations interrogate
the fusion of vocal chords
when you say beautiful amazing things to me; I don’t know where to look
self doubt bonded to grey matter
on fire, using myself against myself, feeling violated – crazy
fear
wondering recognition, unseeing myself in you
your soulful eyes a lighthouse or warning?
my turbulent wake adjusting. I think I’m fucked up
fear, or is it?
*
You are so beautiful
© Copyright 2017, Jodine Derena Butler & Poetry Out West. All Rights Reserved
I found myself once more
Remembering who, what & where I am – who my friends are
Reminding myself of love
Where I’ve been, where I’m going
Trusting whatever will be, letting go
Going with the flow
*
I’ve found my heart again
Radiating like a white lightening inferno
Spreading love like seeds to sow; in my happy place once more
Smiling, laughing
Dancing my way into the light, with a new lease on life
*
Once more I defy cruelty by design
Rising up, shaking you off
Washing myself clean, shedding my skin (shaking that ass)
My right place is right here now
& I’ve found more than hope this time
My spark is brighter than before
& it’s time I finally closed that door
© Copyright 2017, Jodine Derena Butler & Poetry Out West. All Rights Reserved
Artist Unknown
It costs nothing to show me you care;
holding my hand
makes me feel like I belong with you
stroking my face
makes me feel cherished
look into my eyes
and I feel seen, really seen by you
hug me
and I feel loved
when you smile
I feel warmed by you
when you praise me
it makes me want to do even better
when you run your fingers through my hair
I want to bury my face in your chest
when you tell me you love me
I feel like I’m yours
when you say and do all of the above
you show me how much you really care.
Now that isn’t so hard
is it?
© Copyright 2017, Jodine Derena Butler & Poetry Out West. All Rights Reserved
1.
Oh God I was so proud of you, so proud to be your girl
Your wife
You made me feel beautiful, young and full of life again
I would often find myself picking myself up off the floor
When you’d walk in through the door
Your Cheshire beam warming me through and through
That’s how much I loved you
2.
I spend my time in the garden when I feel motivated
Motivation is a hit and miss affair these days, while I bide my time
Trying my best to work it all out, pulling the weeds, remembering songs I used to sing
I can do it – pace myself. It’s not like I have to be anywhere in particular?
Slowing things down to feel my way, has taken me to Europe
Where I wandered about on my card, searching for that part that has her roots in history
She’s done it before, moving, started over, moving but I’m tired
If only I knew how to put down my own roots and reap what I sow
3.
When all is said and done, I’ll be on the move – not run, telling you all to get fucked!
With a huge big smile on my face and crows feet
Happy 🙂
© Copyright 2017, Jodine Derena Butler & Poetry Out West. All Rights Reserved
