Get Over It

Original painting of Jodine Derena Butler, graffiti on canvas by Adrian Falkner aka SMASH, 2007

He said get over it,

& he’s right. My friend said to me once that I had to learn to live without needing a man. My daughter said, there’s plenty of replacements out there, (not that she was suggesting anything of the sort) but,

are these really the answers? I know they are all three, onto something, but me. I haven’t recovered from the last one, the trauma that stripped me down to my bare brittle bones & left me incarcerated in my mind – me, the iconoclast

reduced to a smidgen of my former self. I feel my body buzz, that digital alarm clock refusing to turn off, snoozing indefinitely in some futile attempt to deny it’s existence. My only relief,

an altered state that heals me, temporarily igniting serotonin filling me with laughter & lust, leading me astray into pleasure – the pain, retreating into recessed cavities like tooth decay.

In my natural state, my zombie-like vessel of despair is frozen in a headfuck, not dissimilar to those offering themselves up for cryogenic enlightenment; an obscene experiment, waiting for the utopian dream.

I struggle to hold on.

I smile at memories of when I was on fire, & you gathered around me like a moth, my flame fanning a wildfire of desire & I controlled the burn.

Life’s not like that now. I admire those who can turn a lemon into lemonade, mutton into lamb & a deep dish Russian pie served with liquor, into a feast for days.

I’m so introverted & egocentric that I can’t see you – you, with a heart the size of a universe, a mind as creative as Tesla’s & nature like a Phoenix that’s died a thousand times, only to be reborn, transformed into the beautiful man that you are.

I lie. It’s me who can’t seem to find herself, still lost in that ethereal realm inhabited by visceral ghosts, inciting death & despair into anger & self flagellation.

I am so blind I can’t find my way home. They say home is where the heart is – my home is an empty shell; it’s roof resembling dismembered body parts, now strewn across the lawn in a cyclonic fury, like pieces of me.

It was way too soon to start over again. I am still too fragile to smash.

*

Despite it all, you tell me you love me everyday.

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

Cavity

The Littlest Princess

She brings joy in little effervescent bubbles of fizz.

Tickling our hearts.

We fall about the place; laughter spontaneously combusts into a heap on the floor.

Heaven’s above!

Our stomach crunches burn. Her light beams ear to ear. Spreading over a meadow of wild flowers.

Do you think she knows?

We know. Her happy heart runs and jumps. Arms wide open. A glory to behold.

Pure love.

© Copyright 2015, Jodine Derena Butler. All Rights Reserved

RE BLOGGED by Bellever

Warnings & Good Tidings

She said I could get sick
very ill, if I don’t check my self
warning me about someones
place with drugs & a room
with lights
I hope they are flashing
for I want nothing to do with it!

Despite that, I have good luck
all around me
I would happily pack my bags
to go to family, content
my wish coming true
somewhere to look forward to
happy feelings so often elude me
but not this time

Maybe more study
maybe, but I can’t see it
12 years or so was enough
unless it’s something different
working with children; children
more rewarding spiritually

There is money coming, lots
in the hand, I am shaking
an agreement; good feelings
it always turns up when least expected
I don’t have to worry
it’s all around me in abundance

She said I would help
a young man or small boy, maybe
a teenager an in-between
I can only think of one, Whisky
it would be my absolute pleasure
I’ve always wanted a boy
to love two/too

I’m invited to a wedding
either twice, or plus another
it would be a challenge, all those people
I sometimes get overwhelmed
in crowds, I am still
surprisingly happy

I am aware of security,
prowlers & thieves
several attempts fail to break
my safety zone, honed
creating our home like a fortress
I’d like to see them try
it’s under constant surveillance

My life is changing
& it’s all new, exciting
all good things come to those who wait
I feel great, finally I see
trust & calm
light is all around me
I am optimistically optimistic

I’m going to visit a girlfriend soon
somewhere beside the sea
a glass of wine, she tells me
more good news, I am truly blessed
thank Goodness

I’m not really a drinker
having learned from watching
others & my self
besides, drink driving
I’m not prepared to take the risk
the stakes are too high for everyone

Our home is beautiful
it feels lucky, a seven even
we want to go away
just the two of us, inland
no where in particular
as long as there is water near by
I think I can arrange that

It all looks good
whatever I wish for –
for once in my life, I have
everything I need
good tidings are coming
into Christmas
I am ecstatically happy
listening to the ‘Ring of Fire’
my ‘Hurt’ knowing

My man is like living
with two sides of the same coin
he makes me very happy
his kindness seeing into me
his goodwill radiating in
& out of all of us, his children

He is a wonder to behold
his capacity to love & to watch
him self & his boy, with Whisky
this Christmas will be magical
Summer barbecues & sunshine
ALL my family around me

Our littlest princess is surrounded
by love & happiness too
I’m surprised about that
under the circumstances
that’s not for lack of wanting; my wish
for she is eternal
love knows know bounds
blood not necessarily blood

Daddy will be OK too, different
but OK because he is also loved
joy takes on many forms
it might not be what we expect
in laughter, safety & trust
either way we are lucky; money
doesn’t buy happiness

It will all be done by Christmas
my grandchildren, both my daughters
good news a plenty
the four of us together with family
you all make my life complete
I could not be as happy without you

I have to watch my health
I am under far too much stress
I worry, too much worry in my little finger
I will have a stroke one of these days
another warning
I don’t want to be alone with no one
left to care for me properly
my ambulance, my casket

I want a good, long happy life
to live till I’m 92 or more
good health, a great marriage
in love, light & laughter
I don’t think I’m being selfish
to want what everyone wants

I want to be around water
waves; breathing in & out
no squalls nearby, just calm
there is a rhythm here on earth
if we listen, if I listen
& let the silence speak

I am made of water
but my fire boils
I need to be dampened
just enough, so that I am tempered
fire needs water, water needs fire
to let off steam
my existence is dependent upon it

~

I can handle that
that reminds me
I need to drink more
water

© Copyright 2015, Jodine Derena Butler.  All Rights Reserved

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

Windows

I remember sneaking out of my bedroom window when I lived with my grandparents for the second time the mescaline cactus was chopped off at the bottom which surprised the wall that held the house up lasting so long over the years  it was an old house but not prickly when the juice drained and my first boyfriend knocked I had to be very quiet except for the old metal blinds that didn’t work and I could hear them talking amongst themselves in the bedroom too  I didn’t think they could hear me then together snuggled under their feather duvet warm as I was soon to be most of the time when nana would bring me a cup of tea in the morning like soup but after she read the tea-leaves so I knew I had to be quiet I remember the house built by his own hands after the war it was farmed and raised by the family at the time the steps are gone now replaced and the house has sunken with age like grandfather buried at the rsa with nana soon when the results come back outside the window I remember climbing back in easier than outward appearances and a lot quieter than at night with the still crisp morning light over before it had begun again ahead of its time at breakfast with sweet leaf toast I was fifteen and I liked danger when the grass was much sweeter than the mescaline and the sex of two young lovers defying gravity on the window ledge of lust giggling and groping for the branches scraping the side of the house beside the hole giggling because I might catch the altered perspective and succeed with silence impossible with the teapot pouring I remember the pink bedspread sneaking into something paling by comparison more like crimson and stained like the window he once said to me but could not decide what it was about when the window slammed shut and I was angry for a moment  the front door was easier than tiptoes being bruised seeming to yellow past the bedroom door and the feathers were warm and soft cocooning them in embraces when I smiled I could hear their listening thoughts I remember the days when chairs sat in reclining positions side by side rocking by the fire looking out onto the front window like a doorway a much bigger window than mine was wiser than the cactus planted on the side of the road in season the windows were necessary to see into the future and the night and the teapot arrived as expected when I sat up in bed…

© 2007 Jodine Derena Butler.  All Rights Reserved