Strangers

It was like meeting a stranger.

That uncomfortable feeling of awkward recognition and detachment — that made me want to run least I fall apart, reveal my core which you saw, reflected back at you between glimpses.

That unspoken knowing.

I felt the push of energy and the pull of old habits back into regression, back into the familiar comfort zone of old where nothing changes and we both die a little bit more inside and destiny forgets to reset.

I’m wondering if we’re humble enough to surrender, strong enough to become vulnerable long enough to push through the sparks, ignite the fire and transform pain into passion so we can both decide to rise.

We dance as if we’re going nowhere but in reality, we are already somewhere. Somewhere untapped, viscerally raw and undeniably on the edge of something far greater than either of us anticipated of love.

I want us to push through.

We are free falling to unknown depths and still creating marble pillars from blind faith alone, to eck out an existence that illuminates the veils so we can both find freedom in enlightenment.

All we need to do is walk through the door and let go of the past once and for all and finally fall completely and utterly in love where nothing else matters, except us.

© Copyright 2021, Poetry Out West, Jodine Derena Butler. All rights reserved

Welcome To My World

You don’t get to my age
Without learning a thing or two

I’ve learned to trust no one
But myself

I’m not about to risk everything
On blind faith, alone.

You think you’ve been burned?
You’re not the only one.

Do you think I haven’t been there?
Because I have, and it didn’t end well.

You think your trust is broken?
You have no idea about my life.

I’m not about to risk it all, again
When your cards are not on the table.

I am an aging woman, in a man’s world
Willing to show you who I am

To a point. The rest is up to you.
I am a partner, not a trophy

An equal, not a mistress
Older, wise, psychic and astute.

I am here now because I trusted
More than once, twice too many.

Don’t you dare tell me I have broken your trust!
When I’m the only one who is here for you.

I am still here, waiting for you
To stop cutting off your nose

Yet you expect me to trust you
Your word, your honour, your faith?

That only goes so far
Actions speak much louder than words ever will.

You have no idea how much I gave
Am willing to give, how much I have

To bring to your table —
Treat you like the King you are

But I don’t have first world choices
And I don’t want third world realities

Everything I do, is to survive
Calculating risks, hedging my bets

I don’t have to be dishonourable to do it.
I can see well enough when I look.

What I saw, was not what I wanted to see.
You, your tells betrayed you.

Nothing more, nothing less.
You are not willing or able to see me

Yet, but you will.

The best five months of your life
Is compared to borderline personalities from your past

And those voices set you up to fail.
Still, you choose to see only what you expect to see in me.

I am not here to play games.
I chose to be with you because it felt good

But you are uncomfortable with good.
You don’t know yourself as well as you think.

You are not me.
I am holistically unique and

Cruelty is not my style.
I don’t kick the dog when he’s down,

I take responsibility for my part
You will not humble yourself enough to bare.

I have not abandoned you
You pushed me away, again.

I see you for what you are
Right here, right now a mirror.

I can roll with you quite content
But I keep her on a leash

(You know exactly what I’m talking about)
Because I sense something isn’t true.

The difference is I feel,
I express and I talk to you about it.

I asked you to meet my darkness,
You left me.

I process my thoughts and feelings raw,
I know no other way

To show you what I’m willing to risk
Of myself for you.

You lie, because you think it protects me,
I call it as I see it.

I saw.

You will never know who I am
Until you see yourself through my eyes and feel.

If you actually love me
You’d show it when shit gets real

By being kinder, softer
Compassionate and loving.

I don’t need your help
to take out the rubbish.

You discarded me
Because I called bullshit.

Does that mean I was right?
Prove me wrong.

Take me to Church – Hozier

© Copyright 2021, Poetry Out West, Jodine Derena Butler. All rights reserved

Kraken Nemesis

Worry, picking apart my brain, forms tentacles & infiltrates the darkness demolishing barriers discarding all sense of reason.

Fear, prys open the latch & pokes it’s ugly noggin out amongst folded loops, sensing freedom & an opportunity to breed.

I recoil; form more sunken chests & box in my indignation, push it back down subterranean & throw away the key.

I threaten to rip the legs off my giant colossal squid if she doesn’t do as she’s told!

My kraken nemesis.

That self entitled bitch, sticks her beak in where it doesn’t belong!

I square off, walk the grid like an executioner plans strategy & make the first move.

I am flawed. No better than humanity subdues & ignites.

I feel ashamed
I feel ashamed
I feel ashamed

Finding my place, my people & my self taking an age to surface.

I can’t make head or tails of it.

I float, drift around in the ether, neither up or down — threads like silk ferry me away. Is this what it’s like to crack?

Psychicly split down the middle.

One half tending the earth, grows old gracefully, wears away the lines to paint a picture. The other chips away at my sanity like a termite.

She is mad. A lost cause. A first world problem searching for a third world solution, juxtaposes sense.

I don’t know if I’m any good at treading water. She’s drowning.

I think I’m gonna crack.

Who is there for me?

© Copyright 2021, Poetry Out West, Jodine Derena Butler. All rights reserved

The Venus Flytrap of Love

She fell for him.

She learned to feel ashamed.

Feelings; the dirty word for love, left her sitting in the dark on my balcony, stubbed out like a cigarette butt.

He had to go.

He learned to feel afraid.

Feelings; the Venus Flytrap of love, left him closing the door to my apartment, shut down like a stubborn ass mule.

Still.

Denial stole like a thief.

Feelings; think it would be easier to maintain a smile, but neither of them like bullshit or manipulation or lies.

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

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

Traumasutra

Sitting/

Staring/

Laying/

preparing for the long rest.

Avoidance/

of people, places, sights and sounds.

Depression/

an abyss-like-nightmare that wants to kill me and I battle for my life.

Anxiety/

strangles me to within an inch of my suffocated existence.

Silence/

except for the machine head that analyses and deciphers psychic projections.

Fear/

the worst my mind can conjure, always on the lookout for my nemesis.

Panic/

attacks that leave me exhausted, foolish, irrational, exposed and defeated.

Boundaries/

overflowing – pushing people away, proving that point I once knew.

Distraction/

compulsion’s that envelop me like a synthesized loop; engulfed, and left devoid of all feeling.

Mistakes/

battles to right wrongs, that fail appallingly.

Agoraphobia/

refusing to put myself at risk, unfortunately I still need to eat.

Guilt/

burdens I endure for both of us.

Sensory deprivation/

just to make it stop!

*

Complex PTSD/

is all of this and more.

Trauma/

leaves a lifelong scar.
© Copyright 2018, Jodine Derena Butler & Poetry Out West. All Rights Reserved

Most Days

“I’m in my garden planting, weeding or harvesting.” JD Butler

1.

Most days I want to die.

My heart breaks

over the most

stupidest of things.

My thoughts tell me I am not

strong enough

pretty enough

skinny enough

feminine enough

kind enough

friendly enough

sexy enough

compassionate enough

caring enough or

rich enough.

My brain tells me I’m too

moody

angry

sad

depressed

anxious

ugly

scared

fragile

emotional

weak

unpredictable

unstable

flighty

and fickle.

My brain tells me to think

the worst of every situation, interpret every thing as an

attack

snide remark

slur

corner

lie

deception or

ulterior motive.

I really shouldn’t take things so personally.

Others think I’m too

Sexual

Slutty

Useing

Abusing

Needy and

Crazy.

I guess

that’s why he told me I have no friends.

Most days I can’t stand it any more.

I’m too much of every thing or not enough.

I wish I was never born.

/

I’m ok on a good day, but I struggle. Demons,

in my waking hours, have a go at me for every-little-thing that ever was.

How, do I continue to survive?

Most days, I just want to die.

2.

Some days I feel happy.

content

pleased

proud

relaxed

calm

and secure.

I’m in my garden planting, weeding or harvesting.

And I think about what else I want to do.

Paint

draw

read

make

sculpt

weld

and create.

Money holds me back so I continue watering the garden.

Some days I feel optimistic.

I am convinced I’m going to get that job,

find that financial independence,

not go back to sex work although I miss it terribly.

Some days I don’t think about

pain

loss

fear

humiliation

rejection

or torment.

I’m numb, but at least I’ve stopped

shaking in my boots,

jumping all over the place,

looking around every 5 fucking seconds

or wanting to run.

Some days I feel hope that I won’t

take my life

end up on the streets

be alone and lonely

have no friends

have no lover

or find love.

Whats wrong with me?

I live with trauma, fuck up daily and behave like a bitch –

and I dont think I can be fixed

sometimes.

Some days I’m OK.

I smile

laugh

joke

play

make love

not war.

I try not to let the voices win. I try to

bite my tongue

shut my mouth

hold back tears

try my best

please my man

and stop complaining.

I try not to wait for the end, although I push everyone away – my deluded saving grace

is more likely cutting off my nose, to spite my face.

Some days I think I will survive.

But most days, I still want to die.

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

Fear

I’m afraid to let you in

fear 

open myself up in case I make another mistake 

his hands around my throat

turning my vulnerability into high voltage more powerful than I 

fear

harming me more than my imaginations interrogate

the fusion of vocal chords 

when you say beautiful amazing things to me; I don’t know where to look

self doubt bonded to grey matter

on fire, using myself against myself, feeling violated – crazy

fear

wondering recognition, unseeing myself in you

your soulful eyes a lighthouse or warning?

my turbulent wake adjusting. I think I’m fucked up

fear, or is it?

*

You are so beautiful

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

Gate

Yoyo

‘Visons’ by Jefferson Muncy Art 

I’m so up and down

nightmares

falling about the place

picking myself up

dreaming

dusting myself off

planning my future

scared

neither here nor there

clearing clutter

turfing rubbish

cleaning

pulling out weeds

rotating my garden

sleeping

up all hours

drinking coffee

high

low

bursting into tears

mowing the lawn

numb

lonely and tired

keeping appointments

shopping

feeding the cats

cuddling the dog

rearranging furniture

another movie

hungry

empty

moving this way and that

taking big chunks out

falling

waking

on a shoestring budget

/

wondering where it all went

wrong

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

Clean

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

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

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

These Days

I am sad

I wake up alone these days
I wake up
alone

I make my breakfast
thinking
I am changing
a lifetime of bad habits

these days are nothing
like I imagined

I’ve seen better days
I think
maybe if the hollow feeling
in my chest decides
one way or another
to cut me
loose

my existential crisis;
one foot forward
two steps back

these days
turned out nothing
like I had planned

Where do I belong?
Am I where I’m meant to be?
Who do I trust?
Why would I want to anyway?

My bed is calling me
to my happy place
in more ways than one

she comforts me
while my pillows
are makeshift muscles
I spoon
& wrap around
& cling,
burying myself

I long to get lost
to disappear
to re-emerge somewhere else;
transform
into something
resembling reason

They say I run

More often than not
I turn my back
close my eyes
& hope for the best

They say ‘feel the fear
& do it anyway’

that’s never been a problem
until now

today
every move I make
takes my breath away

These days
I am like a Lily

© Copyright 2012, Jodine Derena Butler.  All Rights Reserved

Fringe Factor

I am on the fringe
my destiny intertwined
money & lust
existence
paving a way for my future

I am loved
unconditionally.

he doesn’t presume
to try to control me
directly
indirectly I don’t know –
sometimes I feel bereft;
a single cell amoeba
searching
for another sign
of life

solitude
my friend & my enemy
co-exist;
uncertainty
at every new juncture
jeers in contempt
I am frozen in fear
for falling
& failing
humiliation burning
into my face
to spite me

ungracious
in pursuit of happiness
I take no prisoners
perhaps my journey
is my destination?
isolation & separation
inextricably linked,
pseudo relationships
taking precedence

lonely street’s
with or without corners
smoothing my transition

in the distance,
no picket fence to define me
or winter garden
or fire escape

I digress, sadly.
inner sanctum’s
flawed by design
serve only to mimic my life

contentment
knows no bounds

© Copyright 2012, Jodine Derena Butler.  All Rights Reserved