I feel like I’ve failed. At life at a core but that I’ve failed a challenge and I know what it is and I see a dance of two souls navigating the sea
© Copyright 2022, Poetry Out West, Jodine Derena Butler. All rights reserved
NAVIGATION
2
Tag Archives: Jodine Derena Butler
The Little Toe Rag!
Mama J woke up on the wrong side of the bed, during the night she had tossed and she’d turned. Atlas woke her up at some ungodly hour, whinging and whining with fingernail gouges.
Mama J tried to calm him by rubbing his back, but he was carrying on like a right ole twat!
(Atlas was really, missing his Dad).
Bleary eyed and dopey, Mama J rose from her bed, she was doing her best to stop seeing red. She changed little Atlas out of his jammies, gave him some toast and some Vita Gummies.
Mama J was not in a very good mood, she wanted to sleep in and stay warm in her bed. Atlas decided he didn’t want toast he went for the pantry for something else!
(But that was too bad, he didn’t have a choice!)
Mama J wasn’t up for any of his sh*t, he would do what he was told, that was the end of it! He stamped and he growled and then bit his hand, gave her the death stare which said ‘do it now!’. That didn’t work either and she sat him back down, and told him to stop acting like stupid-ass clown!
He got up from his chair and grabbed his iPad, stamped his feet, whinged and then turned it up loud! Atlas thought he knew how to behave, so he created more noise to annoy Mama J.
Mama J adjusted her vibe a little bit, tried to stay calm and keep control of it. Even then the little toe rag wouldn’t stay put, continued being defiant and amped up the sook. Mama J switched off and ignored him altogether, turned on YouTube and played something mellow.
(She was not in the mood to entertain the little fellow.)
She was NOT going to put up with any of his crap, he was NOT going to have what he wanted to have! Atlas continued to open the pantry, Mama J continued to tell him to stay.
They did this for an hour before it sunk in, Atlas had realized he just couldn’t win. He finally sat down and ate all his toast, had a sip of water and played with his toes.
Mama J praised him and said ‘well done’, opened the pantry and said ‘here pick one’. Atlas had wanted to eat cupcakes instead but Mama J rewarded him when he was behaved.
Atlas looked at Mama J with a great big grin, he had pushed through and he’d had a win! Mama J was happy too and everything was fine, she had time to make coffee, relax and unwind.
Dad would be home soon for the rest of the day and Looby would do circles when she saw him again. There was nothing quite like it when the family were together, especially when Atlas was feeling much better.
Mama J was awake now and starting to move, dusting and vacuuming and wiping surfaces. She loved giving Dad a clean house to come home to, they made a good team and THAT’S what friends do.
© Poetry Out West, Jodine Derena Butler. All Rights Reserved. First published on Raising Atlas Rising 2022
The Rage Monster
Atlas was sleeping over at Mama J’s, while Dad had some very important family calls to make.
Everything was fine, lots of giggles and play — the garden hose, scattering and Dads shaving cream.
Atlas rocked on the couch in the media room, went into the playroom and did it there too.
He ate all his dinner and had a bubble bath, then crashed around ten with Looby the dog.
He woke during the night and jumped in with Mama J, he slept like a log until the next day.
Mama J didn’t get much sleep through the night, Atlas was all arms and legs — the little shite!
The next day was fine too, all enjoying the peace, while Looby ran around patrolling the place.
Then out from nowhere Atlas lost his sh*t! He scratched and he screeched, yowled and then bit!
Out came the fingernails, the gnashing of teeth but Atlas couldn’t say why because he couldn’t speak.
Mama J put the move on him and held both his hands, non-violent crisis intervention was planned.
Still, poor Atlas stomped and he kicked, he didn’t like being held, not one little bit!
After a while when he’d let out his rage, he burst into tears like a lost boy being saved.
Mama J went into action, soothing the little man, told him everything was alright and that he’d be OK.
It took a wee while but they came to a truce, Dad was on his way home and Atlas was dressed.
(Mama J had a bit of time to clean up some mess).
His bag was packed and Looby had stopped barking, they were patiently waiting for the gate to swing open.
Atlas rested his head on Mama J’s shoulder and she stroked his hair and gave him a cuddle.
Atlas and Mama J had scratches all over, so she applied Pawpaw cream to make it all better.
Then just as expected Dad finally arrived, a zombie-kind-of-cooked dad, but very much alive.
Atlas was almost back home to himself but much more subdued and with flushed cheeks as well.
Dad chatted with Mama J about the night he had had, celebrating the beloved Anna-Marie.
(with Rita and Bobby, Sonya and friend).
When it was time for both of them to leave, Dad gave Mama J a big hug and a kiss.
Atlas walked away quietly holding onto Dad’s arm, then Looby and Mama J crashed out on the couch.
© Poetry Out West, Jodine Derena Butler. All Rights Reserved. First published on Raising Atlas Rising 2022
Yabba Dabba Dad!
Yabba Dabba Dad jumped up and down, dancing a jig and acting the clown.
He couldn’t remember the last time alone, without Atlas or Looby following him round.
Yabba Dabba Dad was so full of beans, his face was radiating sparkly sun beams.
It was finally Friday, a weekend away, all by himself, alone for two days!
Yabba Dabba Dad shot out the door so fast, he left a trail of smoke as he flew past!
His feet were on fire, his mind was all set, he was on a mission to reset and forget.
Yabba Dabba Dad needed a break, to recharge his health, take care of himself.
It wasn’t about Atlas or Looby as such, he was just tired from doing so much.
Yabba Dabba Dad struggled to get through, all of the things that single dad’s do.
Day in, day out they blurred into one, sometimes dad life wasn’t much fun.
Yabba Dabba Dad was doing his best but every Dad needs a few days to rest.
Atlas and Looby would both be OK, they were having a sleepover with Mama J.
Yabba Dabba Dad was heard driving away, yelling ‘Cocaine and hookers, weed and drag race!’ 😂
(yelling ‘WOOHOO, bring it on! HIP HIP and HOORAY!)
© Copyright 2022, Poetry Out West, Jodine Derena Butler. All rights reserved
First published on Raising Atlas Rising
The Process of Evolving with a Special Needs Child
Life is good
But sometimes it’s incredibly hard.
Atlas wakes up at 5am, jumps into bed and snuggles me. He’s wet, but I’m too tired to move except to throw my arm over him and pray he’ll fall back to sleep. Peace, lasted all of ten minutes.
Sleep deprivation creates at atmosphere that’s blurry at best and tunnel visioned at worst. Quick to rise, de-escalation tactics take all my efforts to stay cool, calm and reasonably collected while I fumble through toast and a nappy change.
I make my coffee, roll a cigarette and head outside to watch the sunrise from the balcony. So far, so good. Atlas is giggling with his iPad, seated at the table and picking at his breakfast. Happy, lasted all of 10 minutes.
He doesn’t want toast, he wants something from the pantry instead except that’s not going to happen. Out come the fingernails – gouging and scratching and a temperamental defiance that escalates into a full blown tantrum.
Matty storms out of the bedroom, red-eyed and livid and puts his foot down. Peace, lasts all of another ten minutes before the pattern repeats.
I’ve had enough too. Gone are my attempts to keep the child’s mood on an even keel, gone are those feelings of inadequacy that I can’t contain Atlas long enough to let his father have a much needed sleep-in and so I take him to his bedroom, shut the stairwell gate and try to discipline the problem.
I fail miserably.
Snap! The proverbial shit hits the fan once again and this time, silence is a warning best served cold. Matty descends, a leg is slapped, a door is slammed and peace returns for at least an hour this time.
Meanwhile, I contemplate taking Atlas out of the house for a drive before he starts the cycle again. I panic. My clothes are in the bedroom, I’m not sure where the car keys are, will Matty approve, will Atlas lose it in the car anyway? I decide to wait a while longer. My jaw is sore from grinding my teeth.
Matty needs respite but I’m all there is and so we lurch from dawn to well into the early hours, exhausted and running on fumes.
Atlas is a cockblocker too.
The countdown to esctasy on hold for the indefinite future. Foreplay, fails to get either of us off the ground or high enough to move to first base, let alone dive in fingers first and squeeze one out. The conditions of our release barely blow off steam and the only thing getting hard, is life for the next two months, while we reassess the situation.
A temporary adjustment. Life is actually pretty good. Most days Atlas is on form and we make a great team but school holidays with a child with special needs, without any respite, requires strategy.
© Copyright 2022, Poetry Out West, Jodine Derena Butler. All rights reserved. First published on Raising Atlas Rising, 2022
Oh No!
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Oh no! thought Atlas,
Looking at the mess.
Oh no! says Dad,
Not this again.
Nappy fluff is everywhere
There is no end
All over the carpet
In Atlas’ hair!
Oh no! says Mama J,
What is going on?
There’s fluff on the patio,
There’s fluff on the floor,
There’s fluff on the bed,
And there’s fluff on the walls!
There was no end
To the fluff Atlas caused.
A confetti of fluff
Had kept Atlas amused
He’d forgotten about other stuff
That he could be doing,
Like playing with Looby
Or arranging his toys
Or watching his iPad
And listening to noise.
Instead he made carnage
A world full of fluff!
Oh no! thought Atlas,
I think I’ve f*cked up!
Oh no! says Dad,
Ready to scold
Oh no! says Mama J,
Looking forlorn.
In the meantime, Atlas
Had sneaked out the back!
He’d snuck up the stairs
While they sorted it out!
He picked up his iPad
Plonked down on his chair
Grabbed a handful of crackers
Threw them in the air!
A squeal of happiness
Burst out from his mouth.
Oh no! exclaimed Dad,
Where’s Atlas now?
© Copyright 2022, Poetry Out West, Jodine Derena Butler. All rights reserved. First published on Raising Atlas Rising, 2022
Sacred Reflections
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I can learn to trust:
Innocence, the touchy feely wonderfulness you share with everyone.
Respect, for private conversations with our beautiful friends.
Moments, when you forget you’re with me, until you remember lovingly.
Orbiter’s, that can barely disguise their agenda’s, until you assert yourself honestly.
Occasions, where I risk opening myself up to play – loving you.
Fear, when my thoughts take me to dark places & I have to learn to speak softly.
Silences, that are sacred reflections of us & I learn how to listen.
Times, when unconsciousness collides & I am awakened, letting go.
Your heart, that shines just for me in our togetherness.
*
I am learning to trust that I will be ok,
with you.
© Copyright 2018, Jodine Derena Butler & Poetry Out West. All Rights Reserved
My Book
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I am about to publish my first book of poetry, being released in New Zealand and Australia. My collection of poems have been edited by the lovely Andra Jenkin (New Zealand) and myself with their new format soon to be updated, in excerpt form, on Poetry Out West.
My book will be available for purchase in all the usual places. Watch this space for book launches (Australia and New Zealand) and a chance to get an autographed copy.
I’d like to take this opportunity to thank you all, for your likes, comments, encouragement, support and critique. Poetry is everything to me and without you all, it falls on deaf ears (hearts and minds).
© Copyright 2017, Jodine Derena Butler & Poetry Out West. All Rights Reserved
Angry Drunk Girl
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“It was well after midnight before the first cock crowed & the lights went out indefinitely.” JD Butler
We Ubered into town, once we got our shit together, sorted lines & tripped the lights. The Jack featured Bullhorn & us Dee Jay’s from Ashcats & Rizon, our Friday week off to a roaring 1920’s vintage swing finale!
Bar tabs, Summers, champers & me, the bar bitch on fine swagger for most of the night – till the light flipped & the angry drunk girl was refused entry. She swung through mad backbeats in-between Bullhorns’ ska, till the shit hit the fan in spectacular speakeasy.
Rizon flipped digital vinyl, off & on like the open & shut of Phil’s steam punk pocketwatch – Ashcat’s in fine time. Me, almost deepthroating the mic, freestyling to a crowd of five hundred or more, just before angry drunk girl showed up again, taking the piss while she ripped off her brazen bustier & let it all hang out.
It was not her finest hour, even though Carla’s lightbeam replaced stares, calming more than a sea of storming masculinity, it was well after midnight before the first cock crowed & the lights went out indefinitely.
*
Angry drunk girl reared her ugly head first thing in the morning – then decided it wasn’t worth the effort.
© Copyright 2017, Jodine Derena Butler & Poetry Out West. All Rights Reserved
Fear
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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
Machiavellian Green-eyed Monster
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My Machiavellian green-eyed monster bats her surreptitious eyelids to within an inch of her lasciviously sly lips, barking out orders like Lady Muck subconsciously screwing her fucking finger, but all I can hear is a drum roll; her Devonshire high tea served & my Mad Hatter sets the scene with nothing more than a whistle
© Copyright 2017, Jodine Derena Butler & Poetry Out West. All Rights Reserved
Euphoria
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“I observe you – watching your every move. You’re watching everyone else…” JD Butler
Euphoria
spreading outward like your ‘Albatross’, set to soar; crowd surfing your way into Heaven
You ride it like the wind
steam punking up your moves like they’re going out of fashion, reinventing the wheel & cogs kick up a gear on your deck
Euphoria kicks up a storm in my heels, my flapper tassles set to sidle sidelong into your heart – if I could retrace my steps, pulling my own heart strings
You set the scene in red
parasols with frilly bits line your periphery, reminding us of beauty; love can still be found in all the right places, in more than one heart
I move in time to paradiddles, rhyme & unreasonable expectations, underneath a canopy of tune swinging my way into bliss & unwelcome trysts
You, ‘row your boat’ to freedom in the stars without wind in your sails or decompression, relying on faith & kindness; your current is like lightening in fractals
*
I observe you – watching your every move. You’re watching everyone else, until the parties over & you find me
For a nanosecond I am smitten, before I find myself too afraid to feel
© Copyright 2017, Jodine Derena Butler & Poetry Out West. All Rights Reserved
Shedding my Skin (Shaking that Ass)
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I found myself once more
Remembering who, what & where I am – who my friends are
Reminding myself of love
Where I’ve been, where I’m going
Trusting whatever will be, letting go
Going with the flow
*
I’ve found my heart again
Radiating like a white lightening inferno
Spreading love like seeds to sow; in my happy place once more
Smiling, laughing
Dancing my way into the light, with a new lease on life
*
Once more I defy cruelty by design
Rising up, shaking you off
Washing myself clean, shedding my skin (shaking that ass)
My right place is right here now
& I’ve found more than hope this time
My spark is brighter than before
& it’s time I finally closed that door
© Copyright 2017, Jodine Derena Butler & Poetry Out West. All Rights Reserved
I’m So Over You
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I cringe these days, remembering all the lies
They just rolled off your tongue without a second thought
You are one big lie
I still remember all the good times I thought we had, even though they were fake
I guess it’s a sign of the times – fake heart, fake life, fake news
It was always going to be take, take, take with you
*
I’m so over you, that I laugh now when my friends find me a bumper sticker that sums you up in a nut shell, “[insert name here] is a cunt!”
I’m so over you, that I find myself smiling thinking about someone else without having to watch my back
I’m so over you, that I find myself feeling sorry for you and your miserable, hard-done-by life and how you missed out
I’m so over you, that I hope you finally meet the one (in your dreams)
I’m so over you, I hope you find what you’re looking for and get everything you deserve
because, let’s face it
You deserve everything you get
© Copyright 2017, Jodine Derena Butler & Poetry Out West. All Rights Reserved
This Is How It’s Done
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Artist Unknown
It costs nothing to show me you care;
holding my hand
makes me feel like I belong with you
stroking my face
makes me feel cherished
look into my eyes
and I feel seen, really seen by you
hug me
and I feel loved
when you smile
I feel warmed by you
when you praise me
it makes me want to do even better
when you run your fingers through my hair
I want to bury my face in your chest
when you tell me you love me
I feel like I’m yours
when you say and do all of the above
you show me how much you really care.
Now that isn’t so hard
is it?
© Copyright 2017, Jodine Derena Butler & Poetry Out West. All Rights Reserved
The Great Love of My Life
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The great love of my life just walked away, for the last time
I fall in love with you every time I see you, preferring to forget your flaws
It was your smile, your cheeky grin ~ you’re looking up at me from under those lashes
I fear I would have you back in a heartbeat, if we were to meet again eye to eye
It’s the hardest thing, to choose what’s better for me, over my hearts desire
It would take years of reconciliation, together apart for the wound to heal to scar –
I think about it, us and you hoping, wishing, looking for bargains to bring us back
But it’s too late now
You left me four times, and I took you back; I could never trust a man like that
© Copyright 2017, Jodine Derena Butler & Poetry Out West. All Rights Reserved
My Dublin Leprechaun
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Photos by me, Jodine Derena Butler, 2017
I landed in old Dublin town not far from Temple Bar
I found me seat beside the barman, drinking apple cider
My leprechaun he raised his eyebrows, looked at me and sang a smile
He strummed his guitar, tapped his feet and I was left my heart on fire
For I had lost my Ireland, Dublin calling me back home
I landed in old Dublin town not far from Temple bar
I found my seat beside the barman, drinking apple cider
A pint or three? he said to me, I laughed and clapped and danced a jig
He sang to me in Gaelic land and I held my Johnny’s strumming hand
And so it was, the cider flowed, and we were left beside us
I landed in old Dublin town not far from Temple Bar
I found my seat beside the barman, drinking apple cider
We made our way to Clontarf castle, almost tripping over feet
Now it could be said, of what he did, that roseyed my cold cheeks in bed…
My Dublin Leprechaun beside me, crying in his arms he held me
He found me in old Dublin town, not far from Temple Bar
On my seat beside the barman, drinking apple cider
My Dublin leprechaun he found me, and to this day he will remind me
I came home that Temple Bar, he sang to me and stole my heart…
© Copyright 2017, Jodine Derena Butler & ‘Poetry Out West’, All Rights Reserved
Version 2
I crossed the sea by winged plane
I landed in old Dublin town
I found my way to Temple Bar
Wth ruined roads a shambles
My Leprechaun was singing pretty
He sung to me of Dublin city
Fair lad and lass, love and loss
I felt my heart was heavy
I landed in old Dublin town
I found my way to Temple Bar
My ancestry lost long ago
Stories told me not remembered
My irish Leprechaun he told me
Some fair things are best forgotten
So I danced a jig to my long lost relies
And raised my glass of cider
I found myself in dublin city no Guinness factory
I raised my glass in Temple Bar
My Irish Leprechaun reminds me
Down at Temple Bar
I found myself in dublin town
Down at Temple Bar
My Leprechaun was a playin
I danced a jig for my long lost relies
I raised my glass of cider
And that was me, you see
I found myself in dublin city
Temple bar a clappin
One two three four times
I danced a jig for my long lost relies
Raised a jug to cider happy
Oh to be in Irish land
My irish Leprechaun held my hand
Oh my bonny lass
I Still Believe in Twilight
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Twilight
still, a gut wrenched
mixture of intensity
grief and deep joy
a juxtaposition of us
I was like Bella
you, my Edward
and I wasn’t afraid
in my dreams
I soared in my heart
till my heart stopped
diving into sorrow
my Edward morphing into Aro
*
I still believe in Twilight
even in your blatant disregard
I had my fairytale
Lady Jane had her way
shredding my heart in two
over a thousand years it would have killed me
tucked away under your tongue
under my breath
where everything moved
so bittersweet
*
I still believe in Twilight
although it is all I have left
of you
© Copyright 2017, Jodine Derena Butler & ‘Poetry Out West’, All Rights Reserved
Scent
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Photographer Veronika Marx – V’s Anchor Studio
The scent of a woman
made from floral Oriental arrangements
imbued sandlewood, tall poppies and heady ambient aura’s
is enough to make me linger – longer than wiser men swoon
tripping over their good fortune, as I sway through the market overflowing with trinkets
glittery things; replacing driftwood, pinecones, seeds and pods
cinnamon sticks and stones
eau de parfum of musk, nascent wafts of earth and wild rain
stay hidden from your touch, designed to draw you in
and leave you wanting
Scent
© Copyright 2017, Jodine Derena Butler & Poetry Out West. All Rights Reserved
Yellow
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Photographer Renk Renk Resimler
Yellow; traditionally the colour of death
Yellow roses in particular
Yellow, reminds me of my step-daughter
Yellow is also the colour of grief
the colour of cowardice and cowboy’s
jaundice and Nicorette
Lemons leave a bad taste in my mouth
Yellow. Not one of my favourite colours
First published on Far North Fiction
© Copyright 2017, Jodine Derena Butler. ‘Poetry Out West’, All Rights Reserved
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