Not That Kind

Madonna/Whore Complex

I’m not that kind of girl.

I am that kind of girl.

I can separate work and love.

I can’t separate work and love.

I know what I want.

I don’t know what I want.

Laughter and light.

Sadness and dark.

I don’t like one night stands.

I could like one night stands.

My heart is not for sale.

My heart is open for business.

I’m not a fuck buddy.

I could be a fuck buddy.

I am so much more.

I am all there is.

I want to be number one.

I don’t want to mean that much.

So I can learn to trust.

So I will never learn.

I don’t want to be second best.

I want to be what you want me to be.

I am worthy of love.

I am unworthy of love.

I want to be desired.

I don’t want to be desired.

I am a loving woman.

I am incapable of love.

I’m not an after-hours opportunity.

I am open all hours.

My time is precious.

My time is wasted.

I want to feel like I belong.

I don’t want to be here.

Not at someone’s beck and call.

On someone’s speed dial.

I’m not available for players.

I am available for everyone.

I have integrity.

I am immoral.

I want a partnership.

I don’t want a relationship.

Equality and compromise.

Selfishness and control.

I don’t want to feel alone.

I feel alone.

With or without.

Without or with.

I want to be independent.

I am co-dependent.

Choose my own lane.

Follow the leader.

I don’t want to settle.

I settle for much less.

When I deserve the best.

I don’t deserve any better.

I want to feel secure.

I feel trapped.

Relax and unwind.

Wound up like a spring.

I’m not someone’s distraction.

I am someone’s excuse.

Present not present.

Affect not effect.

I want to be happy.

I don’t want to feel good.

Spontaneously combust.

Slowly decay.

I don’t want to cry.

I want to smile.

No more tears for fears.

Lots of laughs and hope.

I want to be loved.

I am unloveable.

Expand my horizon.

Stay locked away.

I don’t want to be used.

I am a user.

I want a place to call ours.

I like my own space.

I can’t change who I am.

I could change if I wanted to.

I want it all.

I don’t want anything.

I am the kind of girl you take home.

I’m not the kind of girl you take home.

© Copyright 2020, Poetry Out West, Jodine Derena Butler. All rights reserved

The Venus Flytrap of Love

She fell for him.

She learned to feel ashamed.

Feelings; the dirty word for love, left her sitting in the dark on my balcony, stubbed out like a cigarette butt.

He had to go.

He learned to feel afraid.

Feelings; the Venus Flytrap of love, left him closing the door to my apartment, shut down like a stubborn ass mule.

Still.

Denial stole like a thief.

Feelings; think it would be easier to maintain a smile, but neither of them like bullshit or manipulation or lies.

© Copyright 2020, Poetry Out West, Jodine Derena Butler. All rights reserved

Communiquè

Talking,

as you do when time permits

an exchange

of energy, pleasantries & psychic projections,

bouncing

between words, a soul searching

communiquè of sight & sound,

swirling intonations gauging

our airs & grace’s,

our ever-present mindful interludes

pausing between us

for breaths, eyeballing the silences

of our head & heart,

where we come together

& connect

sifting through all the bullshit,

of where we’ve been

who we are & when we first met,

picking

up the threads of where we left off

before we hug & wave goodbye again,

till next time.
© Copyright 2019, Jodine Derena Butler & Poetry Out West. All Rights Reserved

Outlander

Jamie Fraser.

The highlander of my wet dreams &

the epitome of Scottish manhood – the rise

of the Jacobite & the battle of Colloden,

ending it all.

/

That fiery red head fuels my desire, transporting me to Lallybroch.

I am the Lady Broch Tuarach arching her thawed back,

purring like a cat; her cream licked to perfection.

Jealous.

Her secret coveted, breathing pure unadulterated sex.

I stretch back and close my eyes, snatch

images of her glory box at the foot of my bed

replaying soundbytes,

over

and over,

running my fingers through locks,

strumming a frantic tune,

finding their way through crevices & folds; my highland landscape.

Such pleasure!

Tartan wool & kilt,

an 18th century romp & a battle for the heart.

/

But as always, English tyranny is never far from the scene.

Too many #Metoo moments and brutality stops everything in its tracks.

© Copyright 2018, Jodine Derena Butler & Poetry Out West. All Rights Reserved

Baby, I Love Your Way

I love you.

I love that you’re mine.

I love the way you light up a room with your presence and my heart.

I love the way you joyously cook for me and our friends; laughter combusting into spontaneous abundance.

I love the way you laugh and giggle and play the fool, running around the room screaming like a freaking fruit, with Snoop.

I love that you do your best with everything and everyone, everytime.

I love that your heart only wants to do good and focus on the future.

I love how you think positively about all of our obstacles and we work together to solve them.

I love your resilience and strength of character, even when times get tough – you find a way.

I love the way your face lights up when you plan a party, design a flyer and work the promo.

I love the way you DJ – making me and everybody dance, with huge smiles on our dials.

I love to see you in your costumes and watch you come alive.

I love seeing the happiness on your face when you achieve the almost impossible, frequently.

I love watching your facial expressions and that passionate rocking and rolling you do on your chair, punching your hands in the air, to your favourite songs.

I love the way you make me feel, holding my hand and casually putting your arm around me, no matter where we are.

I love how you give me a wake-me-up-call most mornings, and I feel your desire pressing against me.

I love the way you slip, and fall between my legs with that naughty, cheeky giggle.

I love the way you whisper in my ear and tell me I’m sexy and beautiful and how much you want me.

I love it when you kiss me for no reason.

I love your sexy swagger and smouldering eyes.

I love the way you make me Chai in the mornings, and/or a cigarette and we slowly wake up together.

I love watching you shine.

*

On any given day, you give yourself to me in all your authenticity, with love.

You are the most awesome, amazing, talented, sexy, loveable man I have ever had the pleasure to meet and call mine.

I dont know how long I’ve got you for, but the romantic in me hope’s you put a hippie ring on it and we mooch on into the future, forever.

© Copyright 2018, Jodine Derena Butler & Poetry Out West. All Rights Reserved

I Choose to Run

“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 dont 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

Tag Team

Photo by JD Butler

1.

Your love for me has already gone

& you don’t even know it.

I lie awake, tensing & untensing, reminding myself to breathe.

Numb.

I don’t remember what it feels like to be loved, lying next to you, rubbing your shoulders, listening to your faux sleep or nightmarish fits & starts.

I only ask you dont take my friends with you.

What little I have left that teeters on that ledge where I start again & you leave off.

Do you know what colour my eyes are? Know their depths & greys?

Do you know what keeps you close & yet so far away?

I don’t understand.

You give me so little to hold on to, I feel invisable but you seem to think the world owes you a favour & you’re mine.

I cease to exist.

I refuse to live.

I’ll take the scraps like a good little bitch – watch & wait for the next tasty morsel to fall onto the floor.

If this is what you need, I have no choice but to accept.

Throw me a bone every once in a while, when you remember not to forget.

2.

I’m being selfish.

You love me with all your heart. You’re working your skinny white arse off for me, for us & I’ve got you all wrong.

You can see into the future that promises money, hotel rooms, boats, fine wine & women but didn’t you already piss that up against the wall?

I’m jaded.

Am I really what you want, tucked away in the back of suburbia, barefoot, looking like a dyke in my short-shorts & singlet?

Age wearing me down where I just want peace.

I dont want to dance or drink or muck around with you knowing there’s nothing in it for me.

Oh but there is?

Did it only just dawn on you that what’s mine is mine & you either choose to accept this mission or it will self destruct in 5, 4, 3…

What have you got to worry about anyway? You can make money, friends, music anywhere.

Well I’m 50, a woman, unemployed, questionably sane & dubiously employable & up to my eyeballs in debt.

My options are limited & guess what – you’re it!

You don’t believe in marriage & I concur. You believe in hard work in love but no cigar?

Why do it all at all if you get nothing out of it?

Why are you here complaining?

What the fuck do you want from me, if this is not a game?

3.

I’m not sure I know exactly what I’m in for.
© Copyright 2018, Jodine Derena Butler & Poetry Out West. All Rights Reserved

Balkan Beauty

Phil by Fuzion Photography, Cairns 2017

“An admiration she wouldn’t normally entertain… if he were only a passing stranger”. JD Butler

Lady Jane is in love

with Ashcat.

His strong silhouette slipping in and out of her

periphery, and her

ebony arches rise.

Ashcat, oblivious to her wicked wanton imagination, carries on his distraction,

impervious.

She murders a bottle of Brut in anticipation, while he continues to sway his hips like Arrow – taking no prisoners.

Lady Jane marvels at his beauty.

An admiration she wouldn’t normally entertain (appearing crudely shallow), if he were only a passing stranger.

Warmth, is magnified by his dark Balkan eyes shrouded in long, thick lashes – he is her lover.

He wears Jesus sandals, long sunbleached salt and pepper hair, a ponytail and a sculptured beard adorns his shirtless chest, complimenting his oh-so-sexy charisma.

Oozing like Fat Boy Slim, Craig Charles or Ronnie Size and the like,

he dances in joyous rapture, while gratitude tango’s a discourse; Shakespearean words leading Lady Jane into

break-dancing lines and sonnets.

Drawn to the outline of his magnificent manhood – her eyes,

widen

remembering that first feast of flesh under a cascading moonlit pool. His six foot one

stature conjuring lust and erotic embolisms.

Ashcat is her lush and she is his Lady Jane.

Gin and tonic martini’s mix into multiples of mischievous smiles, Mt Uncle

botanicals tittilating both of their senses.

*

Lady Jane snaps back to reality and uncrosses her legs,

flashing glimpses of her petite ankles in the pantomime.
© Copyright 2018, Jodine Derena Butler & Poetry Out West. All Rights Reserved

Blink

Maximòn

Photographer: Scott Wilcox, Fuzion Photography, 2017

“…fine tuning the in-between of harmony; hearts, earth & sky” JD Butler

Maximòn,

the epitome of balance:

patience & frustration,

softly spoken & vehement.

Ritual billowing, vaping

new life

into old lungs,

filtering

pure tobacco into undulating balls of steam.

His stage is an altar.

We dance, cleansing much more than our spirit,

fine tuning

the in-between

of harmony; hearts,

earth & sky.

Our effigy, enlightening the soul & keeping her secrets,

venerable in his wisdom.

Our Columbian overlord garnishes

the Mayan temple our grandfather’s bestowed.

Protective.

Upcycling shadows, illuminating the light –

breathing new life.

He is the embodiment of patronage & the people,

regenerating

health, crops, marriage, business, revenge & death.

Holding

our community together.

© Copyright 2018, Jodine Derena Butler & Poetry Out West. All Rights Reserved

Maximòn

Glimmer

Cobalt Blue Wings

The Daintree again,

eventually.

One more visit to Port Douglas & everything was shut!

For once, I didn’t feel

anything.

/

I never know if I’m going to see a cassowary,

or watch a ulysses flashing

cobalt blue wings

in the wood; my attention, caught off guard,

landing

on a branch or leaf – just out of

reach.

I hope for glimpses of colour

to blur my vision, invite me to follow that willow

like a wisp.

/

Steep curves in the road

climb &

descend &

slow down

for those shuddering bars strategically placed

becoming progressively more gnarly, closer

to paradise.

/

Lost.

Remembering chivalry – that warm endearing charm & seductive attention

that would set my seat aside, leaving me

to explore every crevice & fold.

For once, I didn’t feel

a thing.

/

Soldier crabs scurry into spherical holes dug deep into the sand, sidestepping that fine line; waves,

washing in & out

hiding those croc’s you know are just under the surface.

I dont bother scanning the rainforest for anything else

that moves.

I didn’t feel you there.

/

Braver than most – or foolish. I’m yet to decide.

I don’t remember butterflies.

© Copyright 2018, Jodine Derena Butler & Poetry Out West. All Rights Reserved

Froth

Karma, Brainiac & Putin’s Balls of Steel

“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 denial.

© Copyright 2018, Jodine Derena Butler & Poetry Out West. All Rights Reserved

Betrayed

Snoop

“I wrap myself around you because I never want to let you go” JD Butler

I recognise, that you are as sensitive as I am emotional & I understand you more everyday. It makes a change to see your demons rear their ugly head, while you trust

yourself for the most part & you’re not as corrupt as you think you are, or broken. I’m attracted to your strength. You could never be corrupt, although you carry a weight 

upon your shoulders, that I have only just begun to comprehend. I only learn from what you share, to compare & you will share as you see fit, when the smoke clears & you can look me in the eyes; present,

your true colours in all their glory, will remember that responsibility means letting go – surrender, your last great bastion of growth.

*

I wrap myself around you because I never want to let you go.

© Copyright 2018, Jodine Derena Butler & Poetry Out West. All Rights Reserved

Sacred Reflections

I can learn to trust:

Innocence, the touchy feely wonderfulness you share with everyone.

Respect, for private conversations with our beautiful friends.

Moments, when you forget you’re with me, until you remember lovingly.

Orbiter’s, that can barely disguise their agenda’s, until you assert yourself honestly.

Occasions, where I risk opening myself up to play – loving you.

Fear, when my thoughts take me to dark places & I have to learn to speak softly.

Silences, that are sacred reflections of us & I learn how to listen.

Times, when unconsciousness collides & I am awakened, letting go.

Your heart, that shines just for me in our togetherness.

*

I am learning to trust that I will be ok,

with you.
© Copyright 2018, Jodine Derena Butler & Poetry Out West. All Rights Reserved

Trusting Eros

“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

Brave

#dailyprompt

Monkey Man

“Everybodies doing some sort of haberdashery; feathered costumes & hand sewn labours of love” JD Butler

My monkey man swings through the tunes, 1920’s in psychedelic vibes, moving through astral bodies & trombones, his strumpets shaking everything they’ve got; getting on up, you getting down with the sickness while my Cheshire lights up the room like Charleston

Everybodies doing some sort of haberdashery; feathered costumes & hand sewn labours of love, more broken heart’s than I care to imagine, myself weaving supersystems & stars into eternity while you belt out Orions tune like a demon possessed!

Even Club Reservoir served more frivolity than a mere gin & tonic this time; our Queen having a place to shine, the turquoise scene in sequins wore more hearts than Bombays’ Sapphire – our grand parade my finale, coming home on a backbeat 

*

You may as well be a gay icon my pretty, but it aint got no swing & I hate myself for being so mean to you

© Copyright 2017, Jodine Derena Butler & Poetry Out West. All Rights Reserved

Magnetic

Anything but the Girl

‘For her I shine’ by Daniel McLeod Photography

He came over today, the sexy fucker! It would have been nanoseconds if I had my way; his rooster waking me up at some ungodly hour, unlike the one next door that miraculously disappeared overnight 

He’s surrounded by chicks with dicks for the most part & I love playing the diva swanning about in my skanky pants, proudly wearing my Madge of Honour

It’s only when I’m feeling omnipotent I become envious, allowing my Goddess to flaunt her divine masculinity strapped to her inner thighs, milking you for whatever it’s worth in my dreams

I think it’s only fair you get what you deserve, my milkshakes had all the boys in the yard, now she wants savoury pineapple smoothies sliding down around her knees, spitting seeds

So much for demure! I want lust & primal screams awakening my thwarted inner peace, transcendental om’s on my lips & you lost in oblivion

I’m a saucy bitch, quick witted enough to slap you down with a wildwoman grin, your eyes never waivering, once I bring you to life looking up from under lashes

You’re a sexy fucker & I love you more for being tied up in knots I need & stretch with ease, my magic hands working with pleasure

My demons are in awe of your presence; silenced except for my desire, stirring up more than delayed gratification

I want you to fuck me up more than anything! bring her down to your level, where I am anything but afraid & anything but the girl

© Copyright 2017, Jodine Derena Butler & Poetry Out West. All Rights Reserved

Partner

Fear

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

Gate

Shedding my Skin (Shaking that Ass)

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

Volume

I’m So Over You

I cringe these days, remembering all the lies

They just rolled off your tongue without a second thought

You are one big lie

I still remember all the good times I thought we had, even though they were fake 

I guess it’s a sign of the times – fake heart, fake life, fake news

It was always going to be take, take, take with you

*

I’m so over you, that I laugh now when my friends find me a bumper sticker that sums you up in a nut shell, “[insert name here] is a cunt!”

I’m so over you, that I find myself smiling thinking about someone else without having to watch my back

I’m so over you, that I find myself feeling sorry for you and your miserable, hard-done-by life and how you missed out

I’m so over you, that I hope you finally meet the one (in your dreams)

I’m so over you, I hope you find what you’re looking for and get everything you deserve 

because, let’s face it

You deserve everything you get 

© Copyright 2017, Jodine Derena Butler & Poetry Out West. All Rights Reserved

Cringe

This Is How It’s Done

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

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