The Joker

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The Joker
plays his cards then prays
for forgiveness
to a middle eastern Christian God
before hurling abuse
to those who aren’t white
professing to love women
secretly harbouring unfathomable hate
suppressed rage
staring Red indifference in the face
of reason, his reason
an excuse for payback; vindictive
retribution designed to maximize
powerfully charged emotional punches.

I have loved more than once
choosing my heart over head
batting eyelids deflecting
eggs scrambling to make sense
of the impossible scenario
time after time questioning
my self refusing to settle for anything
less than truth
watching loved ones turn
roll over, pulling the wool
over already unseeing orbs
holding on to contempt for love
lost

Death has defined me
grief ripping me apart
till I am stripped bare and
‘The Joker’ plays me for a fool
his denial hardly concealed now
his truth defining him in the end
hidden underneath a facade
charm dangerously like a predators
false sense of security
when his hands are tied
his dirty hands
he tries to launder abrasive
repeatedly.

Money
the root of all evil
threatens to ignite the paper trails
that have us entwined
enmeshed together by banks
loans and fine print
our future only leased
the balance drains the half full cup
sentiment caught never to be released
that Holy Grail
proving to be forever out of reach
what chance did we have?
the die has been cast.

My love
my darling
you were my everything
my beautiful sweet illusion
my heart aches for remembering you
how you were before you changed colour
I fell head over feet for you and yours
grazing my knee in the process
I succumbed, numbing my defenses
getting back up being pushed back down
losing another fragment of hope
each time threatening don’t
now, the joke is on you.

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

Illusion

How long is a piece of government red tape?

How long is a piece of government red tape?

As long as the Centrelink line down the street. Peasants line up hoping a millionaire hands out $100 bills.

As long as the ATO or MyGov queue — hours spent on the phone with nothing to do, except go insane.

As long as the musical loop designed to hypnotize prepares us to jump through some pretty big hoops.

As long as essential services exclude small businesses whose livelihood depends on everyday life for the poor.

As long as poverty remains below the imaginary line and we consume all the food after the due date.

As long as our bank balances stay in the black, we won’t be charged exorbitant fees for money we can’t make — a pseudo handshake pushing the mortgage back.

As long as we are compliant, stay at home and watch TV and become brainwashed into depression and anxiety.

As long as we stay in touch with the masses of faux friends on social media, breaking community standards in a double blind experiment.

As long as our health needs are met by big pharma and our garden grows GE/GM food designed to fail.

As long as we keep posting photos, videos and shit shows with dildos online, to paint a picture of relief.

In short, go off-grid and make your very existence an act of rebellion for as long as your divinity refuses to be manipulated.

All Those Times

All those times you wanted a home for the family and when I bought one, you didn’t like it and I felt disappointed.

All those times you stalked me around the house and picked the locks, and I was afraid.

All those times you cornered me, hurling foul put downs, till I stuffed my fingers in my ears to protect myself.

All those times you told me I was loopy, a slut, a whore – a loopy slut whore and I was hurt.

All those times you kicked open the door to pin me to the bed in a fit of rage, and I was struck dumb.

All those times you pressured me to buy an investment property instead of renovating the house because you were plotting way back then and I felt betrayed.

All those times you moved out, damaging property as you went. It hurt your youngest more than me, when you painted over her beautiful mural and I felt sad.

All those times you misled me, hiding behind your Samsung, and your daughter for cover, conjuring plans to deceive and I was manipulated.

All those times you spoke ill of me in front of others, your son and my friends – your friends and family and I felt ashamed.

All those times you hid your cash, pleading poverty and gutted the business and I trusted you.

All those times you forbade me to enter our shop, and denied you wanted it for yourself and your daughter and I was controlled.

All those times you refused to finish my tattoo’s, claiming you were too busy but not too busy for your daughters’ and I was left with rubbish.

All those times you said you would draw me a portrait (like yours) and have it tattooed, but you didn’t have enough money even though I gave it to you.

All those times you wanted me to go back to work, promising me you could handle it, but you couldn’t and it was my fault.

All those times you withdrew your sex, claiming you could go without and I felt unwanted.

All those times you accused me of fucking the neighbour, tradies, my boss, anyone and got upset because I sat too close to my ex and I withdrew.

All those times you threatened to expose my client, and pounded on the apartment door and I was embarrassed.

All those times you judged my friends, for no apparent reason and said they were damaged and I felt damaged.

All those times I warned you not to stop taking your medication suddenly, but you did and became abusive and you told your daughter but I was deceived.

All those times you resented my money, but took it anyway promising to pay it all back but you had other plans.

All those times you said you would do anything for me, then complain you were my slave and I felt trapped.

All those times you maligned your ex, your ex wife, your family and those who had crossed you, detailing your revenge and I felt scared.

All those times you lied, gas lighting me to my face and Police, to make me doubt myself and instill madness and I became anxious.

All those times you said you adored me, meaning as long as I shut my mouth and did as you expected and I went quiet.

All those times you said you could never hurt me like your ex’s, because you loved me, giving me a false sense of security and I became depressed.

All those times you stole our customers and redirected them to your personal email, yet I was silly for imagining it and I felt set up.

All those times you put your personal email on our business pages, but it must have been me and I felt confused.

All those times you damaged my property and denied it and allowed your daughter to do it too and I felt ganged up on.

All those times you instructed your daughter to remove texts, business files and photographs from my phone and laptop, stating you knew nothing about it, and I felt tricked.

All those times you refused to allow me to give a gift voucher to my friends and family, but you said family is always free and I felt nothing.

All those times you withdrew your youngest daughter from me, assigning the mother role to your teenage daughter, leaving me outcast.

All those times you washed your car, thrice, but wouldn’t wash mine and I felt insignificant.

All those times you expected me to cook, but said you loved cooking your special diet anyway but I felt guilty.

All those times you failed to communicate in texts for fear of litigation, so we agreed to delete them frequently so they couldn’t be used, but you secretly kept them and I was blind.

All those times you said you wanted nothing to do with bikies, their associates or the security crew but you were in cahoots with them the whole time and I felt threatened.

All those times you told me it only cost $5000 to get rid of someone and I asked you to stop talking like that, but you didn’t and I felt intimidated.

All those times and more happened but you have your own reasons for behaving this way.

After all, you were angry.

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

Pan

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I could never look at you
the same way
I adored you, once
your true colours had me
in sensory overload
clutching at my heaving chest
in shock, my disbelief winded

reeling from the blows
you took such pride in

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 made him feel

like a man.
You’re not my man

I was your meal ticket,
your way to escape
demons; Dachau passed down
suffering in such a way
life was completely misunderstood.
Cruel Nazi mentality was a heartless
Mockingbird,

your SS badge of dishonour
worse, using children

as an apparatus for torture.
Where love nurtured trust,
spiritual guidance you 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; a lamb.
Your God is a manmade
fallacy designed to subjugate
where misogyny, displaced whores
render Madonna complexes

in perpetual conflict.
I am disappointed in you

you, who had it all, proffered up
on a silver platter
a want 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 future 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 a 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 upon your grave.

© Copyright 2016, Jodine Derena Butler. All Rights Reserved

Pan

Meddle