Too Hard Kité

Māori Kité (basket)

Those days are over and my ❤️ is resigned.

Too many complications leave me questioning why.

I don’t bother putting my best foot forward.

I’d rather you saw me at my worst and most awkward.

There’s no point in trying anymore to be honest.

I’m too fucking angry to build rapport and flourish.

I don’t want a partner, I’m far too fucked up.

Finding friends is a challenge but that’s good enough.

You can lay it on thick and treat me sublime.

But I’m still gonna take myself home every night.

You just might really be the best thing for me.

But I’m too fucking burnt to begin to believe.

I’d rather push you away and self sabotage.

Than risk trusting you will be, who you say you are.

It’s wholly unfortunate and totally sad.

But I’ve had enough and it was pretty bad.

I like being independent, funky and fun.

I’m afraid to feel beautiful, desired and loved.

I feel myself falling and losing control.

And I fucking hate how it makes me withdraw.

But that’s how it is and for whatever it’s worth.

I think you’re ok but I’m still not so sure.

I don’t know what to do or even if I can try.

Regression takes me right back to being a child.

Then I reflect and feel all ashamed.

Knowing I’m being judged by myself and I blame.

I can feel the anxiety building up inside.

Leave me open, exposed and I lose my mind.

I’m completely imperfect, contemptible and flawed.

Selfish, self righteous and utterly scorned.

I don’t have what it takes to surrender my ❤️.

So let’s call it a day, while we can remember to laugh.

© Copyright 2020, Jodine Derena Butler & Poetry Out West. All Rights Reserved

Killing Heidi

Last night was a true clusterfuck.

This morning, she’s thinking about taking a class

Act.

Flashbacks of a child making desperate promises she can’t keep

Pray.

She learned there was no one who really cared

Naked.

A victim of conditioned responses or lack thereof killing Heidi off

Halo.

Inextricably separate, forever grieving the loss of her

Forgiveness.

When all it takes is to swallow it down whole and roll

Die.

Does she know how much it hurts?

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

Heidi

Ariadne & the Consecrated Man

It’s taken conciliatory surprise to remind Ariadne of her desires;

Her pending resignation of all things malodious and contrite.

Old crone bones proffer up a willingness to decay

Lay still, let mummified old sticks and stones settle in.

A labyrinth of bygones remind her of a well spring run dry

A summer of joy, cut short. The autumn equinox bears down

Bending boughs to straighten those willowy heart strings once and for all.

She feels the clew constrict, stretch the last of the wine —

The last dram of mortality’s mundane, quenching nothing in the end

But a lust for a life lost, rendering her a prisoner and one of Klimpt’s women

Peeling back the golden years in rebellion, a fight to the last breath.

Abandoned yule tides of December wax and wane

When all she wants are lilies, and to be crowned Queen of the Damned

To be held in the arms of a consecrated man.

Alas, winter brings sadness and loss, chaos organising

The last remaining gasp muted in surrender, a fish. One final beat

Forces remnants of hope to leave as gracefully as the slamming

Of a door / his melted wings and her angst roar!
© Copyright 2019, Jodine Derena Butler & Poetry Out West. All Rights Reserved

Hard-wired

It’s a hard-wired

ephemeral life

I lead.

Half of me yearning.

Half of me mourning.

Desire

for a quick death,

overcome by the

monotonous grind;

clandestine,

dragging

it’s heels inching

forever forward

toward an unremarkable

destination.

Except for

that constant ache.

A low throb

moan between my

legs,

rising up & into

my belly, disturbing

the dying butterflies

there.

Oh to be blindfolded!

Black out spread eagled,

all solidified reminders

teased to know pleasure

for pleasures sake.

Played

like an object

of your imagination

& devoured

like a ripe peach.

I’m too old

for this shit!

Wanting

to just be loved.

No out-back

salt lakes to be found.

Slip streams

giving way

to an avalanche

in a classical black

& white silent movie.

It’s all too much

to take in,

the depravity

of age & of consent.

Too young, yet

too old to let

things slide.

Still, the tears come,

let loose

to chide & deride

my feminine critique;

that contemptible self

loathing that likes

to sink her

teeth in.

Heart

broken,

wanting for nothing

but life’s

simple pleasures

to sweep her

off her feet —

lead her into

an ecstasy of wanton

abandonment

for just one moment,

to still the voices

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

Nude

Pan

Image

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

Incubus & the Nymph 

Incubus circle
in delayed formation
my nymph
debilitated and abandoned now
satiety a vestige
of reckless abandonment
elsewhere
pledged allegiances suffer
stuffed down the gullets
of imploding rivers
seething Red
in distaste
indecent proposals are
swallowed whole,
recalcitrant yearnings
succumb to the dirge
mountains begin to crumble
the ingratiate turns
her back, again
rock and debris fall
on deaf ears
on deaf ears, my
dwindling reserves
purge the last of my resolve

© 2009 Jodine Derena Butler.  All Rights Reserved