Mourning Molly

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My Molly died today.

It was the venom that slowly ravaged her tiny frame. I nursed her. Four days of hugs, crooning she’s beautiful, so beautiful & that I love her; the emancipation of denial.

She never left my side, until the day she faded away, her expectant brown eyes slowly glazed over an opaque skin & it sunk in.

I dripped drops, to keep them moist – mine overflowing a continuous silent stream.

I held her floppy skin & bones close, before wrapping her in a purple Silk Air blanket, tucking her in for the last time.

I buried her in the morning sun, her favourite place to wake up, bask & warm.

Her memory lingering longer in my heart, her quirky quirks igniting my giggles – multiple kisses on her petite deer face, carrying her bundle under my arm to our next time & place.

Mourning my Molly in the lonely spaces in between.
© Copyright 2018, Jodine Derena Butler & Poetry Out West. All Rights Reserved

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Lady Lazarus & the Voice of Ratified Reason

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“If I had the grace to fall apart respectfully, there would be no need for enlightenment”. JD Butler

He’s using me, I’m using him – both of us working on a palatable means to several ends & everyone’s happy on the dance floor, except me / Lady Lazarus, fully loaded

machinations mimicking my madness & everything I have survived is temporarily erased from my memory / the neglect, the rapes, the con artists & the turning of blind eyes. The violence

of insanity, cleansing the last of my contemptible dirty pieces. A ruse in the end, designed to ratify my plea bargain, still set to drown in a sea of toxic shame, churning

out green bile – something the dogs love to salivate over.

/

It all sounds so depressing, except for the sun that continues to rise; refracted light beams infiltrating my cracks,

forcefully illuminating all remaining fragments of hope that haven’t yet marvelled at a setting sun. I am thankful.

If I had the grace to fall apart respectfully, there would be no need for enlightenment, you would all marvel at my unadulterated halo & drop to your knees, prostrate

but I am a mere mortal woman. No God could ever carry me across the sand or walk on water or set me down on the island of my choice,

without some sort of comeuppance; paying the ferryman requires nerves of steel / I lack the will to either live or die,

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

Imagination

Snoop

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“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




Citrus Juice

Today,
my Pipi
completely demolished
her ball

it split
right down the mid-dle

& her tail
wagged

she set about
mesmerised;
the final task
yet to be savoured

her fine front teeth
nipping
& pulling
the strands of
fluff
to a string

/

paws
& awkward dexterity
placed

\

if only
she had
a thumb
to peel
& fingers
to pry
& lick

citrus juice

© Copyright 2010 Jodine Derena Butler.  All Rights Reserved

Family

Christmas with family at lunch.  loved
ones in spirit present. noticeable
some of us not our usual selves. all of us
a couple of weeks and months ago
father, mother, uncle, aunt, cousin
brother, sister, husband, wife, lovers.

love is in the air with a sombre undertone
changing and evolving.  stronger
softer holding on
our spirit’s enquiring gently.  hearts
like cedar louvres
blissfully breathing
lots of hugs and kisses
lots of smiles.

bull mastiffs lap attention unknowingly
giving of themselves.  more
a small child asks for help to go wee’s
as children do.  nona
chuckling as she leads her by the hand.

teenagers frolicking in the pool.  glorious
unfettered minds and bodies celebrating
organic feijoa wine freshly squeezed it seemed.  ripe
the sun in all of us.

pockets of people mingling.  glasses
raised and table laden.  giving thanks
quietly un-quiet mouths, eyes ,ears, skin
and something else.  savouring
sustaining the living and life.  gone
but not forgotten.

© 2008 Jodine Derena Butler.  All Rights Reserved

Ours

Our hearts, snatch moments
filled with remorse, vehement
in truths. open
sesame seeds sown
willy nilly in back yard hovels –
dining on scraps
while junkyard dogs
howl.

Our time, spent
gorging on coronary
disbelief, tethered.
strings like chains,
embedded injustice;
cross over
invisible lines,
separated by fools.

Our past, mirrored
back and forth. etched
early Victorian details
beautifully inscribed.
a time of certainty
in knowing places. my
fractious splinters
render.

Our life, stapled
to tea-chests in storage
cubby holes. cramped
piled high walls
lived in once, now
embroidered in newspaper
cuttings – yesterday’s
old news.

Ours, together
demoralised. sucked dry.
used but(t)s,
in overflowing
ashtrays; crutches
stubbed into cajoled corners.
ashes to dust
till death do us part.

© Copyright 2009 Jodine Derena Butler. All Rights Reserved

Dogs At My Door (Redlight Series)

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Lovers of pain and comfort, unconditional
with puppy dog eyes wide shut
Head on my stomach fur coat attired
foetal and like old things, worn
Moments and memories dispensed
a hairs breath between prickles
and whiskers tease
rubbing the shredded skin of dissociation
Thoughts escape, awakened
stirred and panting
Playful ball sports and eyebrows raise
sniffing familiarity
Belly rubs and legs splayed
assuming the mould from in behind, the scene
anticipation hungry for food
Dependence in exchange for love
money in exchange for lust
No flea’s here, no blood,
no life-sucking thoughts here
Gods comfort wrap fur-lined with licky tongue
slobbering kisses of conversation
Done and dusted.

© 2007 Jodine Derena Butler. All Rights Reserved
First Published in Side Stream, Issue 7, August 2007, “Poetry From The Fringe”
http://www.myspace.com/sidestreampoetry