Sea of Possibility

Aurora Australis

Wrap me in a padded cell
so I may kick
& flail
eke out my existence
purge my maelstrom,
those configured fires
left to smoulder
in relative calm

bound by containment.
I strain every sinew
to breaking point
every muscle to burn
my cognisance; fragmented
Freudian slips
of recognition
rubbed raw.

I will break free.
Stretch the threads
of my fabric,
my very being
so that I may ignite
the Phoenix
to take on life
& soar.

My thoughts are like charred embers;
reminiscent remains
of a Godless era,
mountains of mole hills
set in the West
cast shadows
my gauntlet
rearing its ugly head.

What will become of her?
My desolation, left
to wander this Papa
where great lakes
threaten to burst
their asides
remind us
we are at Her mercy

but to fail is not an option.
Deliverance stands
turning on my heel
to where the sunrise
promises more
than just to warm
my bones
hope, skipping pebbles —

perhaps to sail?
Riding the salt & pepper coast,
my salvation avoiding
complex low pressure systems
preferring to watch the Seagulls
negotiate on my behalf
squalls rolling
in my wake.

Mollymawks
crash land burly trails
full of anticipation
my Mull
living on a prayer
an easy meal
but not without compromise
black, white & grey.

Pre-determined destinations
finding solace
at the end of the Earth,
Aurora Australis
leading me
not into temptation
for Albatross are always on the lookout
searching the sea.

*

Sandal-less feet
pale skin tinged olive,
doves on a distant spire
cooing a lull; my cradle,
rocks
a fishing line
tied to my big toe
where everything is as it should be.

© Copyright 2012, Jodine Derena Butler. All Rights Reserved

Cyberus & the Ramblings of a Mad Woman

Isolation Desolation

i

Cyberus the black dog, creeps in under Mary’s skin, licking his lips, penetrating her holes, gnawing away at her sinewy tendons and succulent bones.

He rapes her subconscious crawl space, probing his wet nose into her closet crotch, sniffing out the buried remains there like Cujo; gnarled lips, protruding tongue and crazed eye stare.

Mary pricks her ears, Cyberus howls at the April blood moon, his mourn calling her out from behind her silvery veil, behind her mindful interludes – moonbeams bleed crimson and red rivers pour from her nightmares blurring the edges of her days.

Cyberus spreads his malaise like a disease.

He infiltrates cavities and grey matter mimicking the ebb and flow of tides; dopamine highs and serotonin lows, squalls hovering on the horizon – the ramblings of a mad woman batting her eye lashes, baring her sharp teeth.

ii

Mary flatter’s her fans upright for .50c an hour to satisfy Cyberus’ insatiable appetite, gulping down terabytes like an insomniac slip streaming strip scenes and Mary rubs herself raw, learning how to love the hands that feed her.

The water slides off her duck downed back, down valleys and cracks her bareback fingertips squeezing every last drip from her drops.

Mary turns off the shower, wipes away the steam from the window and peers outside. Two stray dogs have escaped lockdown, causing havoc on the streets.

She would take them both in and give them a good feed, if she had a backyard big enough to bury bones.

iii

Tom stands outside on the pavement, peers up at the window, his threadbare trenchcoat just as superfluous as his empty pockets, except for the cornerstone content bulge. He watches Mary’s jailbird swagger dance and sway behind a steam curtain.

iv

Cyberus can feel her skin crawl, he allows himself to rise – settling in between her mind and the blurred edges of breasts, buttocks and inner thighs.

Infared penetrating his night vision.

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

Murder & Mayhem

I’m not preaching
But I am being true to

My self. There is
Murder and mayhem.

I asked for it. I asked
For learning,

Mourning views
At the ocean

Tasman Sea side, beside
my de-railed train.

Smart. Taking stock
Taking measures.

Working it all out
Through trial

And error’s; Finding pride
Empowering

*

Fuck mainstream
Stigmata up the arse!

I say. In the carnage,
In the afterglow

Of my Fukashima.
My sub-woofers’ set

To subvert you
From your dissonance

Apathy
Hatred

Denial there is a war. I choose
Resistance

And by God –
You will remember!

Fuck the world
For me

Lest We Forget

Peter Dutton

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

Infuse

Polishing Pearls

Photographer: C.J. Kale
Photo used with permission

healing time

this mindful interlude.

children soothing self-

fish seven second

memories

and I gulp.

hold my breath

and blood eyes bulge.

my mouth

a clam. shut

tight swallowing.

sinewy tentacles

constrict – squeeze

life. giving

up on the surface.

too far away to escape

drowning. my own

tears like Nemo’s

fin flounder. no

Gill to trust

courage to find

gems in the dark

depths. blind despite

a heart

the size of

an ocean. rogue

waves propel me against

the grain. grinding

in to sand. washed

sea dust; bleached

clean white coral. spheres

of soft step-ping silicas.

I spit out. waiting

for a hand

full of perfect polished

pearls to appear

out of no

where. wisdom

shell sheltering

a hermit.

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