Persephone

 

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 by tempering Demeter’s mournful wrath, all thanks to Hercate.

Persephone never quite forgave injustice, but she did learn to shed her skin & find rebirth in the spring, bursting into wild rain.

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

Myth of Persephone & Demeter

Sympathy

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My Dublin Leprechaun

Photos by me, Jodine Derena Butler, 2017

I landed in old Dublin town not far from Temple Bar

I found me seat beside the barman, drinking apple cider

My leprechaun he raised his eyebrows, looked at me and sang a smile

He strummed his guitar, tapped his feet and I was left my heart on fire

For I had lost my Ireland, Dublin calling me back home

I landed in old Dublin town not far from Temple bar

I found my seat beside the barman, drinking apple cider

A pint or three? he said to me, I laughed and clapped and danced a jig

He sang to me in Gaelic land and I held my Johnny’s strumming hand

And so it was, the cider flowed, and we were left beside us

I landed in old Dublin town not far from Temple Bar

I found my seat beside the barman, drinking apple cider

We made our way to Clontarf castle, almost tripping over feet

Now it could be said, of what he did, that roseyed my cold cheeks in bed…

My Dublin Leprechaun beside me, crying in his arms he held me

He found me in old Dublin town, not far from Temple Bar

On my seat beside the barman, drinking apple cider

My Dublin leprechaun he found me, and to this day he will remind me

I came home that Temple Bar, he sang to me and stole my heart…

The Temple Bar Pub

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

Brassy
Version 2
I crossed the sea by winged plane

I landed in old Dublin town

I found my way to Temple Bar

Wth ruined roads a shambles
My Leprechaun was singing pretty
He sung to me of Dublin city

Fair lad and lass, love and loss

I felt my heart was heavy
I landed in old Dublin town

I found my way to Temple Bar

My ancestry lost long ago

Stories told me not remembered
My irish Leprechaun he told me

Some fair things are best forgotten

So I danced a jig to my long lost relies

And raised my glass of cider
 I found myself in dublin city no Guinness factory

I raised my glass in Temple Bar

My Irish Leprechaun reminds me

Down at Temple Bar

I found myself in dublin town

Down at Temple Bar

My Leprechaun was a playin

I danced a jig for my long lost relies

I raised my glass of cider

And that was me, you see

I found myself in dublin city

Temple bar a clappin
One two three four times

I danced a jig for my long lost relies 

Raised a jug to cider happy

Oh to be in Irish land

My irish Leprechaun held my hand

Oh my bonny lass

Rabbit Court

There has been a shift in me; side lining the old ways, finding hope where there was none, obstacles I once circled, dismantled cages my lion once fixated upon, the enemy – my feminine intuition

strength, I found without glasses raised in my periphery far beyond any sudden obscurant deviant landscape filled with Kings Pardon’s, crystal clear upon reflection – I’ve changed

my stipplings more fluid than transparency could have foretold a straight line in the beginning, my wagered war under siege, till it and I spilled out, replacing what was left with artistic endearment

I unpack my bundle now, denying lace doilies on the armrest and turn my back on your silhouette; wallowing in self pity, my demons are fornicating with your rosary beads, lambasted in disquiet

I have witnessed your demise and I too descended into Hell, double standards raping and pillaging my identity, till she was as bereft, staring your demons down so you could see yourself

I am raised from those ashes, I am emblazened wearing a Red beacon-like flag, my Phoenix set to soar North never looking back, for if I think of you, I am at once torn left blindside and I refuse

I stand alone in my dock; my blue eyes pierce your reign, my laser beams cutting through all those cloaked illusions you conjure, for I burn inside you, igniting scrolls of discarded deadwood you can’t deny

Let us be done with this shade! You can’t have your old school tart by eating her, out of business or waltz her off her feet with your inflated ego – the facts are irrefutable betrayal, denial won’t save you

falling into that rabbit hole, that jester court ball full of grandiose promises, all but a mirage in my crystal; my Goddess is much older than your crucified false prophet, and I am no Martyr for a lost cause

© Copyright 2016, Jodine Derena Butler & Poetry Out West. All Rights Reserved

Polish

Pan

I could never look
at you the same way
I adored you, once
your true colours have me
in sensory overload
clutching my heaving chest
in shock, disbelief winded

reeling from the blows
taking such pride

inflicting pain, deliberately
fueling retribution over lack
of supply, shows me I never knew
you – you who would do anything
for me, except love me
finding unjustified reasons
to hurt me

because I don’t abide
I could never trust

the man that revels in pain
his empowerment borne
plotting, scheming manipulations
splitting love in two
my aorta left to bleed
out, powerless –
it makes him feel

like a man
you’re not my man

I was your meal ticket
your way to escape
demons; Dachau passing down
suffering, such a way of life
completely misunderstood
cruel Nazi mentality, heartless
your Mockingbird,

your SS badge of dishonour
worse, using children

an apparatus for torture
where love nurtured trust,
spiritual guidance squandered
on self-serving childhood needs,
your own metered out
shortcomings
love is not yours to ridicule away

denying its abundant existance
I will never trust my heart,

expose her soft underbelly
or offer her up
in sacrafice; like a lamb,
your God is a manmade
fallacy designed to subjugate
misogyny, displaced whores
rendering Madonna complexes

in perpetual conflict
I am disappointed in you

you had it all, proffered up on a silver platter
wanted for nothing, except coveted jealousy
lusting after sinful greed
you let breed and wreck havoc
Mr Black is a predator, a perpetrator
you let run roughshod over me
I am not the only one, women

your past is predictable by nature
I hope with what’s left,

you learn your lesson well
I wanted a man – a man,
not a spoiled little boy
throwing tantrums to up
the Antichrist in pursuit
of misspent youth,
ungrateful to the core

matters let go out of hand
I am in Hell

sent there to rot in your abandon
but you didn’t bargain on meeting Demeter,
who will hunt you down
to save herself, mourning winter
the long days and sleepless nights,
haunting your nightmares

she, who see’s right through you
will dance on your grave

 

© Copyright 2016, Jodine Derena Butler.  All Rights Reserved

Pan

Meddle

Working through Cobwebs

Melbourne Street Art – Artist Unknown
Photographer: Jennifer Cox
Photo used with permission

I’m trying to work through cobwebs, he said,

with eyes pouring like rain
into a leaky boat
squaring off the shoreline
heading out to sea
avoiding Redbacks
like the plague, negotiating
rogue waves
behind his back
facing his fear; ex
tended arms pull
away – escape
for the moment.

he scans the horizon
left to right that sinking
feeling farther, closer
than he expected denial; a river in Egypt
too far away to row
a thunder clap into eternity,
Isis turning a blind eye
Triton dragging him
under, spinning
a vortex only Terra
firma can translate.

taking the bull
by the horns, he finds
solid ground wrestling
Taurus, knee deep
in mud that sticks
like shit on the inside,
cobwebs cling to hard
wired neurons
lodged in the gaps
in – between grey,
a matter for
black and white.

separate, facts find
fiction fornicating
in a web of deceit
by design, too lurid
for children like
Persephone – abducted
innocence; a metaphor
for rape, choking the Hell
out of life, all the while
pseudo affection bribes
a handful of lollies
to sweeten the blow.

I want everything to be saved,
he said.

© Copyright 2016, Jodine Derena Butler & ‘Poetry Out West’.  All Rights Reserved

Notorious

Lilith & the Incubus

Photographer: Ange Harper

Here we go again
for those of you sick
of this shit – Karma

Happiness, eludes me
over-analyzing everything
searching for that choice to make

Looking to purpose choose life
simplicity a complex solution
blind, numb, lost & forgotten

My brain hard-wired my eyes shut
Persistent Depressive Disorder
convincingly sees only what was

Nothing gets any better
I’ve never known anything different
happiness is Far Far Away, folklore

Farther apart I age, no wiser
life flashes before my eyes, wasted
it’s a miracle I have survived thus far

I may as well be dead
it’s like I’m dead
I feel dead

Burdons not just my own; contagion
leaching into every soul I touch
Incubus fornicate in my sleeplessness

Pervasive nightmares & thoughts
leave little light – my aura
hedonism postulating pleasure

Shit shows on at 4am

Doom & disaster, spiritituality
leper colonies shun; shamed
beyond toxicity

I am cursed
so is everyone in it
locked up for my own safety

Where is Lilith?

© Copyright 2015, Jodine Derena Butler.  All Rights Reserved

REBLOGGED: By Art of Drem, 2015

For My Children

1.
I miss you both
It saddens me, that you hold on
with such contempt
that I must wait for you
to grow, make peace with yourselves
in order to find forgiveness
in others, in me

2.
I was not a perfect mother
I don’t know anyone who is
except in our minds,
which compare; an apropos
of nothing really

One thing you can both be sure of
is that I do my very best
with the ancient tools I was given
with dedication & commitment
to myself, to raise you both better
better than I had ever known
or been shown of love
& I love you both deeply

3.
The women in our family carry a curse
I believe, still being passed down
Great Grandmother to Grandmother,
Grandmother to Granddaughter,
Mother to Daughter – witnessed
eyes knowing cruel contempt
for women

Somehow the trauma each of us
experienced, experiences
real, imagined or embellished harm
passed down through our DNA
our nature
through our environments
our nurture
trying to show us the wisdom
to know the difference

It is a blessing
your tenacity, persistence
& determination
fight to right those wrongs
letting go the past moving on
steadfast in search of that love
you desire

Our cells remember
the past lives of our ancestors
those crossed paths imprinted
on our mind, body & soul
power & passion
did not escape unscathed; scarred
permanently
our heart skipped many beats

We observe each other
observed by our men (& women),
surviving their own stories,
our selves attract to ourselves
psyche healing vicariously
most of the time, everyone
learning to find peace, love
happiness taking its time –
but don’t be fooled by pride
awareness is awry, warning

I do my best to break this cycle
not expose you to harm
triggered reactions lead us astray
our nautical compass
navigates storms, skewiff
I cling to my internal lifesaver
lest I drown at sea

My own mother is a farce
painfully denied & despised
tea leaves attempt to predict failure
our grandmothers are responsible
for nothing but vindication
like her mothers mother’s mother

I am your mother
you came from my body
you are of my blood
I love you,
my mother could never say that
once, in past tense
once, in goodbye

4.
I refused to drink
drunkenness hurt me more than ever
in the past, I was scared

I refused to drug
& I was spiked for my efforts, in vain
I learned his true psychedelic colours

I refused to parade men; a room
full of strangers, who could
watch & wait for those opportune moments…

I must have failed
I feel like a failure, ashamed of myself
ashamed of you both at times too
but only because I see how it could end

I warn you about danger
from yourself from others
predators in the world prey
dark & destroyed souls
seek nothing but instant gratification
self-righteous justification
anger is violence
no excuse is proffered up
& we are all culpable to some degree

5.
I am a strong woman
I feel very deeply the injustices
of others, of yours, of mine
I only have myself to chastise
& you, that part of me I protect
in my mind

I am harder on myself
my self is much harder to bear
I expect much more than vengeance
to ease our hurt awakening anger
we need love & kindness
I only want the best for you, for me

I am also very proud of you both
I see two beautiful, independent
headstrong women, myself
on a good day
I want you to be happy, exude warmth
I need you to love me, back
the way I loved you, back then
when we would all laugh & play
when we all had our innocence & joy
I want you both to come home

6.
I feel pain of the most heinous kind
happiness eludes me most days
searching, my self finds traces
of her, that little girl that became
lost in the ethereal space between
what was & what could have been
she separated parts of her self
doted & despised, both
in continual conflict

I have memories, denied versions of truth
I struggle to reconcile – I feel violated
I despise lies & deceit, power & control
I wrestle with such terrifying demons
who tempt me to trust & I am often
mistaken – I no longer believe it exists
on a bad day

7.
My fear became terror
when they both laughed
& came for me in my corner
I was held down while the soap stick
ripped through me
turning me inside & out
as I floated away
I was 4

My cat could have been shot
in front of me
he held up the gun, she held
the cat steady
“do you think the bullet will go
straight through?”
I was 5 or 6

My life could have been over
when I choked
but he said “she’s not my kid”
I pulled the sinewy gristle out
by myself spewing onto my plate
I was 6

He told me I was ugly
unwanted, unloved
I should never have been born
but I had a guardian
He told me “it’s meant to be this way,
it won’t be like this forever”
I was 6 or 7

My body knew pleasure before
it knew pain, before he touched me
& my spirit carried me
away to safety
I was 8

I watched him
his violence incarcerating those cows
chained, their backbones
smashed with a galvanized pipe
they had no where to go
I remember blood pouring from sores
like an avalanche
I was 8 or 9

My eyes saw the Sheep’s throat cut
with a blunt knife
he held our heads together
forcing us to watch, laughing
I was 10

I might have felt loved
if I wasn’t told it was the worst day
of my mother’s life when I was born
on my birthday
I was 13

His brother was a sneak
he came into my bedroom
he tried, I failed in his eyes
his brother’s too
though he was blind
I was 16

I trusted him
the Blue Mountains forever etched
into my brain
it was midnight
“if you don’t…I will leave you here
& they will find your body”
there was a cyclone in 1984
I was 16 then too

Death, like Charon is ever present
He resides beside & inside us
He will happily take us one way or another
if we let Him
I refuse to pay although I am tempted
He doesn’t give a shit at the end of the day
so don’t waste time entertaining him
or sway your hips to his tune

8.
My heart only ever loved one man
My Grandfather
I never knew my Father, not
until I was 17
& now I don’t want to know
because violence is not OK for you two
but I must have deserved it

I might be his daughter
but he only raised boys
he doesn’t know how much
daughters need their Fathers
you both need your Father
I needed my Father

I knew this, then & now
I never withheld them from you
I fought for them as much as for you
so that they understood
how to love, the girls who would become women
so you can recognise a gift
when you see it
& trust

9.

We all watch the slow erosion of her innocence, see her wrestle in defiance

like I saw you, like I saw myself
she is my light & she heals me
her gentle softness radiating like a Halo
I heal her, my nurture having been
honed because of you, thank you

11.
I love you both with all my heart

It is no coincidence Karma
your boys will teach you everything
else you need to know
perhaps the curse is broken?
It was always meant for you
to become
the beautiful mother that you are
please understand, your boys
need me as much as I need them

Leisa, whether you like it or not
you are an extension of my self
I feel very proud of you & of myself
pain is like fire, it burns
I prefer to view my fire as a controlled burn
as part of nature’s regeneration
it makes way for new growth,
stronger roots & solid ground
I need you
as much as you need me

© Copyright 2015, Jodine Derena Butler.  All Rights Reserved

I Am Yours Forever

Jack said to Sally, “I am yours forever”
I have no doubt he’s got her back
she leans into him, safe
in their existence

💜

The worst of my emotional turmoil
has taken a calculated step back
from that precipice – my Abyss
I now have my feet planted firmly
on this beautiful earth of ours

My man has had a breakthrough too
He is as strong as an Ox, spiritually
speaking, he came to me
shared & bared his most dangerous
depths, in that moment, I was lifted
& my heart rose to meld with his

Cancer became the Rabbit
& Rabbit overcame his Cancer
I sank into his soft silky skin
breathing him in, his musk – fragrant
His trust rekindling all hope
I saw him in that moment, solid
stoic, replenished & I am his witness

Faith & love; Trust & kindness
Honesty is something else to behold
together our voices sing synchronicity,
we no longer fear – death
Hades has been defeated, cheated
I slurp it up now, that Pomegranate
juice splashing my face, devoured

We look forward to the future
with another kind of sixth sense
Letting go, we accept our fate
with a new, gratifying lust for life
a new found freedom
a new way of being
having found what others fail
to recognize

I’m so proud of my man
I’m so proud of me
I’m so proud of our family
& that’s all that we need – love

© Copyright 2015, Jodine Derena Butler.  All Rights Reserved

RE BLOGGED on Dream Big Dream Often

Cold Comfort

I’m going slightly insane
Oh, to be deaf, dumb, blind & mute!
turning that blind eye, having nothing
more to do with it – all

No shoes on her feet
her hair a mess
the first thing she says is,
“Are you a mean stepmother or a nice stepmother?”
cuddling me, she tells me I’m nice before I can answer, awed
saddened & proud
all at once

I’m so afraid for our little girl
afraid to bear witness; joy, pain, confusion, innocence
I do my best, continuing to be consistent,
loving, nurturing & hiding
my own pain to shelter her

I need time out
not from our littlest princess, never
from that bright spark that lights up my world, my own fear worse for wear
knowing truth; being called a liar
cruelty appears nonchalant & we all know
ignorance breeds ignorance

I rise
above this time & detach
from that confined space lodging
deep in my brain & heart, threatening
to expose my GI Jane

She thrashes inside her prison cell,
the bars of my prison bend
but do not break, I give thanks
to God & Godesses & the Furies,
my Crone; for temperance
my aenima inanimate for the moment

,●

I hear her laugh,
that contagious giggle
putting a smile on my face
all I need is patience; I can wait
Karma has not yet spoken, giving
cold comfort will come at a cost – all
I can do is love

© Copyright 2015, Jodine Derena Butler.  All Rights Reserved

God is Love

I feel shattered
fragmented
my self dispersed
willy nilly
this way & that; sparks

on a funeral pyre

*

Isolated in a new country I proudly call my home, desperate for unconditional love and understanding. I am estranged from family who need no explanation least of all from me. We are grieving the loss of our precious little girl. The softest most gentlest child who has ever graced my presence. That’s the worst thing to comprehend. How could it all go so wrong?

Self pity and blame/shame become a toxic breeding ground for self-doubt.  Feeling victimized beyond where my psyche can find peace, I am being eroded from within. Still, those wicked thoughts work their way into my cracks, ever-widening, poisoning me from the inside out. I have a parasitic demon spreading its hideous tentacles into every mistake I have ever made reminding me of my foolish flaws. My lifesong is no more heard than those women in history; burned at the stake.

I thank God I was not born in that cruel Medieval era, although I recognise similarities in unjust sentences and we all know no one has a leg to stand on in times of prejudice. I see common sense, at the last-minute at least. Those women were tenacious, brave beyond measure and while the odds are gathering sticks stacking my pyre, my heart is with her and them, my love knows no bounds.

I make the calls, I speak my truth. It is all I can do to retain my dignity. My integrity is not in question, it has never been. I know right from wrong. There is  something insidious here at work, attempting to thwart justice by all devious means imaginable. It cannot last forever. She threatens me and us but though the system of things is corrupt, I am not.

Every day people are being dis – membered, crucified in the coldest places on earth. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy but she has brought us here to witness our incarceration and suffering, inflicting us with that cold, soulless stare. Her lust barely disguising her thirst for that elusive elixir of life.

I am human. I suffer like everyone else. My reserves are low and my inner flame is almost extinguished – doused by lies and deceit of the most heinous kind. I pray everyday for divine intervention. More than ever to Mary, to God, Goddesses, to the Crones, to whoever will listen. Those who weave their ancient threads on the great wheel of life, deciding our destinies.

By descending into hell, this time I know with certainty that wheel will rise again and I will find myself ascending, transcending all that was before. My faith wrapping my warm, safe, loving arms around her and us. I believe we are in the right place at the right time but the reasons for it are as yet unknown. I face this wrath. I take full responsibility for whatever I have failed to see and I will mourn.

My needs are the least important right now. Longer lives are at stake here. I am reminded of the Inquisition where women and poor innocent children were burned for nothing more than uttering truth in a world full of unscrupulous doings. My littlest princess is growing up way too fast. Her world separate from her self.

My focus is on one innocent child who is but a pawn in this farce. It is she who I admire, her resilience and the knowing that one day soon she will be reunited with love and have the best that love can offer her to heal. It won’t be too late, for love can work miracles for the most cruel of experiences. I have witnessed first hand how God will intervene having carried me in his stead before. Children are born resilient. They have inbuilt protection and I trust that she will be OK.

God is love and he does not desert his flock.

© Copyright 2015, Jodine Derena Butler.  All Rights Reserved

Miasma Rose

my foetal body holds
nervous balls of Fear
tying themselves into knots
that make my stomach retch –
remembering a time before

my world collided everything
became fission; an existential
explosion of pieces of me
scattered

for a moment I lost my self

●

loving more
than my desire knows
escaping those merciless depths
drowning me
that miasma of Fear rose
letting go tears

what was once mine
forever stolen

its hard to breathe
here & now my Fear rising
its ugly head penetrating
only a fraction / friction culminating
in pitiful attempts to mollify

comparing my voice to yours
once more scolded, Fear
beyond measure
gulps for air
winded

wishing for all it’s worth
for more – more than life itself
to find peace & love

to seek out that softest place
our Eden here on earth
my beautiful self in your arms
our fruit ripening my garden

she remembers
being pulled this way – that
curtain calls still fall – still
I managed to climb
that long steep drive

her body of evidence
a sixth psychic sense

she is alone Daddy
14,000 years in advance
mister black burns
& black backs down

magic raises her up, my Crone
fragrance budding
watching her blossom
where she will become

●

Trials & tribulations
wax & wane

Karma will knock you off your feet
no stone will be left unturned

you will have no choice but to cut
off your nose to spite your face

I foresee Death
Charon jigging a jig
my wicked sense of humour
rejoicing

rotting in Hell for all eternity

© Copyright 2015, Jodine Derena Butler.  All Rights Reserved

She Sells Sanctuary

Photographer/stylist: Ra Kai

It’s quiet outside.

her ears adjust, vicariously
searching out cracks/
a radar mind

finding edges where paths
begin & end
& life circles.

inside her four walls
escape & sigh breath
carbon dated memory

each time reflected upon
once/ a crudely stirred softly shaken sonic echo

a lawnmower cuts
more than
the grass/

in between two or more spaces
she chooses
to wipe away the years

sealed red letters/
sifted thoughts more like
ocean liners

her past full
of Pomegranate blossom
seed

she sells her sanctuary
in blocks/
cubed quarters

organised delivery
ensures a safe return
of a very sure thing?

but not now
there is nothing left to steal.
she sells her sanctuary

from her living room
& chooses life
letting go

/

his miniature shoulders
resemble an old man
Led Zeppelin

his sticks are bundled/
all he can see
is the highway

© Copyright 2010 Jodine Derena Butler.  All Rights Reserved

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Fey

An emotional midget lives inside my fettered mind. The sprite kind, green as the Irish, young like Danu’s children dancing, invisible to most save Fey. She is gullible, easy prey for those with nothing better to do – they say opposites attract: I am like rat bait.

She is not quite right in the head my sprite but don’t get me wrong, she might have a little hunch in her brain stem, walk around muttering under her breath, but she is conjuring up Narcissus in an attempt to fill up the holes in her white tunic.

How she came to be this way is a long story, suffice to say that public humiliation is akin to Oedipus Complex
with a tiny bit of Penis Envy on the side; there is nothing quite like having an orgasm at someone else’s expense.
If you are a man, well I guess you just grew a little taller, women, maybe just a little bit smarter.

My sprite has been known to feign a smile. Rather than cower in the corner, she has worn patches. I heard this one woman say she would never
have plastic surgery on her face, (in male company of course), then make an appointment to have her breasts enlarged, the bags under her eyes lifted.

I wear my heart on my sleeve most days melancholy. She plays while listening to The Pied Piper watching hoards of people leave single file.
Emotionally speaking, she is not known to accurately sift thoughts; binge eating her way into the Guinness Book of World Records, one defiant leap of blind faith at a time.

My wee lass likes to be alone, but craves the company of others so she doesn’t have to hide. Once upon a time there was no such thing as social isolation, the preferred title was Witch rather than loony toon. She thinks too much, trying in vain failing miserably; second sight may as well be as viable as the second coming.

In my mind, my confused emotional midget state of a mind, I am wondering where she has been and where I am going. Most days I re-live the past with distorted accuracy staring into the wide blue yonder sitting on my desktop. She looks out on to a Google landscape, straining. I can’t see the wood for the spam.

© Copyright 2010 Jodine Derena Butler.  All Rights Reserved

Demeter & Persephone

Demeters world is falling apart
she enters the tomb
leaving behind every last bit
of skin and bone

her heart, jagged little pieces
tears, condensed salted earth
her spirit as dark as Hades, ashen
her womb, a barren undergrowth of loss
her voice, a howling banshee
sevenfold

Persephone revisited in dreams
her escape futile, Hades whispers
she runs, never holding on nor looking back

dismembered dissociation awaits
those who fail
while cadaverous limbs are discarded
fertile appendages flail
her pieces crumble to dust

Demeter withdraws her love
only to find a serpent tongue
suckling at her breast

Demeter descends, Persephone awaits
her chamber the great unclean
unashamedly devouring our lost souls

Demeter falls to her knees in despair
death is just a figment, and life
here is just a memory

she breathes in the rancid air,
the smell of a distant pyre
she kisses the hand that feeds her

there are only fools here in paradise.

Copyright © 2009 Jodine Derena Butler.  All Rights Reserved

Mothers

Who says there is a God?
wishful thinking created by man
to control the masses; no
Mothers in sight – save Mary
but look
look what happened to her our Lady!
Mary Magdalene
will rise again
she will be known by all her names
fire, earth, sea and sky; Ishtar

we shelter in the rivers and forests
gathering all the sticks and stones

Mary emerald as the forest green
will ride with Rhiannon
her shoes of moss and lichen
her cloak of rainbow silk: transformed
eye’s like Innana shedding tears
as sisters mourn and do
& all that is dark and been before,
will shadow us no more

she has awakened in terrible wrath and has unleashed a whore

Kali destroys and  makes anew
Pele knows which heart is true
Abundantia  makes it very clear
there are no more second chances here

Gaia,  Papatuanuku and Ostara, forging ahead new life
Innana, Dana and Isis surrounding them with light
Athena and Mother Mary have much to undo and teach
Aphrodite, Ostara, Nemetona and Ixchel
Mothers of divine healing heart

all these Mothers will guide us through without the slightest flinch

she is all Mother and we recognise her full
we run with open arms, no fear
she restores our wayward souls with care
she cradles our broken hearts to weep
peace will be reborn again
where war has gone before with man
our raging rivers will forge and cut
ravage and avenge; our rivers
will shed tears of pain
new paths lest we forget

calling all our wonderous women
our voices banshee wail
we will hear them in our hearts full throb
and never fear again
here comes Persephone from the dark
the first to see the light,
Demeter fills an earthen jug that overflows with tears
she gently wipes her daughters feet to cleanse away her fears
and without Mothers no seed will grow
and so they must obey

but men are men, God or not
and evil still prevails
our Mothers cast all seeing eyes
and none shall let them pass
Zeus may watch with Ranginui
for both have known this day
Hades left enraged behind
his plans for her subdued
for she is with the Mothers now
a war he cannot  rule

Persephone is free at last
Who says there is a God?
for Goddess rule this world or ours
Papatuanuku birthing fruit
my Maiden showing me the truth, wary as she treads
my Mother prays the safest journey our Mothers forged ahead
my oldest Crone will rest her bones on her dying day
and sisters will be reborn again and again
woven waxed and waned

© Copyright 2010.  Jodine Derena Butler.  All Rights Reserved

Persephone Personified

I am trying to understand this place;
my skin crawls with dissatisfaction.
I pray to an unknown God
while Goddess whisper in my ear,
stoning my heart, burying me in the sands of time
the river Styx shines its mirrored veil
I am sucked beneath ancient waters, blackened
as the night is deep
my soul writhes in despair
I sink
I breathe water while my spirit swears
Hades dark and foreboding bearing gifts like fruit
I recognise him and defend

I am weary
for God has forsaken me
I cry out in anger throwing my fist
I am but a child, small and snivelling
Persephone personified
I am reborn, again and again and again
dying each time
if life has meaning then I am blind
for I see no reason
where are you Demeter?
Mother!
I have no mother
I close my eyes and weep but do not pray

*

my soul surrenders
the Fates weave their ancient threads
I am suckling at her breast, at last
I am dead
I am dead
I am dead

 

© 2007 Jodine Derena Butler.  All Rights Reserved.

Sheep and Mosquitos

Sheep follow
one, after the other
two, blind to see
the fence was an imaginary
escape route to nowhere

in particular –

juxtaposed with mosquito
banter on migration to a
carbon dioxide induced
acid trip

A palpable end
to an otherwise
paltry existance
for those not otherwise
engaged in slumber.

Blind and blood thirsty,
rhetoric is
not lost – who pulls
the shrouded woollen
scarf across their eye’s?

Semi clothed in
parachutes, attired
belligerence and
artificial libido,
comfort wrapped

as if –

fences don’t exist.
Premature collisions
run roughshod
over ruminating
premarital cliffs

sheep follow
one, after the other,
the blind leading the blind
relentless in pursuit
of happiness

a pantomime of
mosquitos dance,
while I endure
a never ending
kaleidoscope of noise

© 2009 Jodine Derena Butler.  All Rights Reserved