Ms Writer (Drem Inspired)

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           Me – Jodine Derena Butler 

I write because it helps me to express myself abstractly when I can’t figure out what’s going on around me in my head I write in layers most of it shit I’ve completed three undergraduate papers in creative writing I learned some techniques different ways to write but ultimately I didn’t go through with the Masters in Creative Writing I still get published I write as a distraction I write when I’m moved (usually depressed) I write about random stuff when I can’t sleep (like now) I’ve even opened random pages of a dictionary letting my fingers point to words with my eyes closed made a list then wrote something about what my unconscious picked out for me I write to avoid what’s going on outside my solitude I don’t like being distracted by outside influences when I am overwhelmed in emotional pain distressed angry whatever has flawed me in words I can write for hours days on end without stopping I’m learning to write flash fiction I read historical researched novels by Phillipa Gregory Ken Follett I love medieval times the clothing the way things were so absurd I’m naked in bed at 11.50pm wide awake Friday 4th December in Cairns Queensland Australia I might write something about bees tea leaves one day I’m going through some trauma right now so I am all over the show but this too shall pass I’m 47 48 in January I’m living a very full on life I play/ed various roles within it I haven’t yet found all those different voices to tell my story I’m closed up or free spirited it’s either one or the other my roller derby name was ‘Flash in the Panties’ in a past life that could be a funny story I’m really fucked right about now what color is your underwear?

© Copyright 2015, Jodine Derena Butler & ‘Poetry Out West’.  All Rights Reserved.

REBLOGGED: By Art of Drem, 2015

REBLOGGED on Dream Big Dream Often

A Poem is a Poem

A poem
descriptive words
concrete
abstract

convey a rhythm
sight and sounds galore
intriguing tales
a word-smiths journey

then
lines that twist
are break-dancing sonnets played
alive and cherished

alchemy
anarchy
orthodoxical paradigms
shift

intuitive tangents
coalesce
together
expanding thought

each of us
is random
is abstract is concrete
is creativity at best

no tasks here

metonyms in poems
metaphoric poems
creative poems
penned

© Copyright 2007 Jodine Derena Butler.  All Rights Reserved

Happy Faces

So this is what it’s come to
distant memories of innocence
lost long ago
memories relived, mistakes
my undoing, all played
out on life’s stage

you’re out there miles away
untouchable, I tell myself
over and over where I’ve gone wrong
it’s too much for the bravest,
I’m not
I know what they’re thinking

I hear it in my head
like a broken record, jumping
over lines.
I look for ways out,
ahead of my future
there is no parallel universe

in my world
just constant reminders
of what I fail to become
and could have been
if it weren’t for me
I am swimming to stop the sinking

feeling, dragging me
down.  it would only take one gulp
one backward sigh of relief
to make it all go away
I never do anything by halves
I am no saint

no martyr for a greater cause
I leave behind everything
that ever was
they could never understand
what I know is my truth,
my world

I don’t belong here anymore
than the rest of us
but you don’t complain
if I could reach out and touch,
the sky, I would
melt away, floating my drops

I trace tracks with my finger
down the window pane
my happy face
smiling back at me

(in memory of Ian Curtis, Joy Division – D.O.D, 18th May 1980.  The birth of New Order.  The 2007  movie release of Ian’s life and times is called Control)

© Copyright 2009 Jodine Derena Butler.  All Rights Reserved

Fiendish Ghouls (for Androgoth)

As darkness falls and ghouls doth prowl
and hells black gate upon thee growls
its creaking moan bewitched with fright
opens wide into the night

fiendish ghouls who scour the dirge
of mortal blood and soulless ones
beseeching those in grave despair
to haunt and snatch their bleeding fear

and blood lies pooled in mortal sin
breathing foul amidst the din
the ghouls they come with fiery eyes
and laughter as they ride the skies

drawing near to slake their thirst
their evil reign desiring curse
in their thousands they doth come
circling prey and guileless ones

suckling on our bleeding hearts
their lust for blood and pain and such
they shriek and soar and dip and dive
in and out our mortal lives

tearing at our wounded scars
paralysing us with farce
they eat until they can no more
our souls left withered at deaths door

© Copyright 2009 Jodine Derena Butler. All Rights Reserved

I Am Sylvia 

I wonder how it was.
Sylvia locked away
all those years
inside
untouchable –
incarcerated like Frida
painting her
escape

I am alone in her.
My own padded cell
akin to 3 square meals
a day
if I am lucky,
no daily visitors
for I am cursed
unlike Sylvia – blessed

I may as well be
a ward of state,
owned, privately
operated on a pen
and paper budget
my four walls like
Fear and (self) Loathing
in New Zealand

I pose the question.
Many times, on
deaf ears, meaning
and purpose, meaning
whatever will be will
be, but for now
I am Sylvia –
there is hope for me yet.

© 2009 Jodine Derena Butler. All Rights Reserved

First published by Blackmail Press, Issue 28,  http://www.blackmailpress.com/Index28.html

Muldoons Evil Twin

Poetry Live on Tuesday
nights, open mic
from above the Comedy Club on Queen (07)
to Thirsty Dog on K (09)
my humble beginnings
behind the Glue Pot in the 90’s
Java Jive, Raw Fish Salad
Karen Hunter in one of her primes
Temple Bar up on stage
improvising on song
it didn’t take me long to piss the locals off –
less than a glass of wine
so don’t make a scene
too late
Bohemian floral skirts
and wacky hats, skinny
pin legs and black hair
standard poet garb it seems
Murray Haddow pushing buttons
swapping tongues,
split personalities
coming alive in accents
bigger than Graeme Brazier
Right on cue, sex workers
across the street, never
get rid of them or me
Montana Poetry Day (05?)
I wish I was a millionaire;
I would buy every great poet loser
their own book
Performance poetry at its best
Poetry Out West
a kaleidoscope of words
and I can hear the audience cringe
I’m looking better tonight, apparently
It’s been two years since
my presence spoke volumes –
I must have sounded like
Kerouac cackling back in the day
like Muldoon’s evil twin.

(Inspired by Murray Haddow at his Poetry Live performance at The Thirsty Dog on Karangahape Road, Auckland, New Zealand 07/04/09)

Copyright 2009. Jodine Derena Butler. All Rights Reserved.