Muscle Car

My car and I have much

In common.

We are older models,

No frills, American made.

Muscle all the way.

Going slow when days

Are grey with ice,

Threatening snow.

The reservoir for windshield fluid

Is empty in my car.

A leak somewhere underneath

Dries it out when I need it most.

I refill it (now and then)

Vowing each time to get it fixed.

The place where my tears

Waited for release is empty, too.

My eyes remain cynical and dry

With the dirt and grime that comes

From the pain I see in front of me

And that I leave in the past.

I’ll fix it (me) next time.

Later.

After I need it most.

A Valentine's Day Poem for 2018

A New Rhythm

I thought to myself

I have not danced in a while.

Then spun in ballet’s discipline.

The world became a blur,

And I lost my balance.

Dancing in front of the mirror

Brought self-doubt: That I was

Just an aging man

(wondering in embarrassment),

When and where youth had hidden itself.

I thought to myself

I have not danced in a while.

No matter what music played,

My feet no longer laughed.

I was looking for the exits, and leaving alone.

Then you walked into the room of my life,

And my heart skipped to a new rhythm.

My soul kept step with my eyes as they

Were held in the embrace of your smile.

Holding you, every song became my favorite.

With you, my whole being dances

In combinations of old and new feelings.

(Finally) belonging to another who knows the same steps.

We glide into feelings neither of us knew could be ours.

With you, the band never stops playing.

I am tired of thinking to myself.

Let’s dance.

Of Wind In Her Wings

When an angel worries,

She loses the grace (that so delicately)

Feathers her wings.

She can no longer fly in clouds

Equally beautiful, and lands in the world,

Unable to see herself as she deserves.

Without a chance to debate

The outcome: She is human.

She cannot transcend the mirrors

Of the earth, or the uncertainty reflected

Within their shadows that darken her sky.

I have no grace to give this angel.

Cannot compete with the memories

Of wind in her wings.

I will hold her, love her, and try to quiet

Her moments of self-doubt, so she can see how

The sun rejoices when it touches her face.

Heaven has lost an angel.

And I have found what it’s like

To soar in the clouds, (untethered)

When graced with the sun that

Nestles within her heart.

Dedicated to the Transgender Community

Roses All Around Me

Lost roses in a gardened room

Stood gazing out a windowed pane.

And waiting for their chance to bloom,

Hoping (as flowers do) to gain

Belief that they are beautiful.

The roses felt the Garden’s scorn

When they refused to take their place.

Then shed themselves of leaf and thorn

And showed themselves (all stem and face)

As something new and beautiful.

They could not make the Garden see

That worth is not the way you’re born,

But how you live when you feel free.

And never again have to mourn

That no one thinks you’re beautiful.

There are roses all around me

And they are beautiful (I know).

They bloom whenever they are free

But they’ve so very far to go

(I hope they know they’re beautiful).

One day I’ll mourn the Garden’s loss,

After the final rose’s bloom.

When all is grey from winter’s frost,

And Heaven saves from final doom,

Lost roses, all quite beautiful.

___________________________________

Inspired by some of the most courageous

and genuine people I have met.

b

Vampires on the Fridge

A good friend of mine gave me a box of 200 magnet words (the type that goes on refrigerators) that were "vampire themed". The challenge is to ONLY use the words provided in the box. So far, I have written four poems from this box (the first four below). It was, to say the least, very challenging. The last poem is just a silly thought I had at work. Hope you like this Halloween fare!

_______________________________________

I will rise forever Hunt by moonlight Our ancient need to embrace Immortal with desire For your love _____________________________________ I am damned Demon and human With bloodlust Tasting your heart My teeth thirsting To pierce your darkness Save me From the undead night ______________________________________ I am Vampire Immortal The creature parasite A demon enslaved Drinking forever the blood Of the lonely Lusting to possess you Your fear tastes so sweet In my graveyard embrace You then undead rise We wander as moonlight will Eternal Damned to darkness Feed me humans too afraid Of life and desire Our hunger can never end ______________________________________ I am blackest evil An enemy to feed on a friend Destroying your lifetime Making you a victim Embrace my dead heart We will walk our lonely crypt Taste the blood of angels And desire moonlight Forever _____________________________________ Vampire Tan (or: I'm Smokin' Hot) Vampires want to suck you dry, Be you baby, broad, or man. They like their very pointy teeth, But boy, they hate to tan. They won't go to salons to brown So tanning beds are out. They like to go where blood is found And drink it from a spout. Don't expect them to oil up Or lie upon a beach. Expect them all to sleep in dirt Then suck you like a leech. Don't laugh at them or at their skin. Albeit so white and pasty. Just stand out in the sun all day, And worry you might be tasty. ______________________________________ Happy Halloween!

Christmas in June.

I wrote this for one of my best friends for a Christmas Party she invited me to. Her name is Husted, so "hustedian" logic refers to her. I realize I am 6 months late, but it was fun to write.

Just Like The Mayans

  

The Mayans wrote it down in stone

That our world would never end.

We got it wrong, like some forgotten

Song whose words we did not attend.

And with our dawn, we staggered on

Some happy, and some to fret.

Husted falls into the former group

Because “she ain’t done yet”.

So day to day and year to year

We’ll live our lives with relish.

Habitually playing down our smiles

And do our pains, embellish.

Our metaphorical stockings hang

Expecting a charcoal fare.

We are appeased, if not half pleased

When we find nothing there.

Christmas comes and then it goes

We plan, we drink, we eat.

We laugh, we love, and decorate

Our lives with friendships’ treat.

  

So Here’s To Happy Holidays,

(To waxing full PC).

Make a toast to our Hustedian Host,

And drink most merrily!

  

We’ll March into our futures-

As lambs, or maybe lions.

We’ll carve secure, just to be sure,

Our songs (just like the Mayans).

b.                                                           

 I hope everyday is like a holiday.

Let me know your thoughts. 

Newtown

After almost six months, I am putting out my thoughts about the shootings in Newtown, CT. Let me know your thoughts.

A Perfect Flake of Snow

Stifled in darkness so god doesn’t notice

The (‘hallmark moment’) sobs,

Will angels have any

Tears left for us

When existence slips back into

God’s pocket with the other lint universal?

When angels can’t stop their grief

We call it climate change.

Each tear a perfect flake of snow

Falling.

So many from heaven, drifting deep in sadness,

Recalling the last moment of laughter

From the littlest snow angels humanity can still cherish.

Perfect, tiny impressions of wings on

Fresh blankets of frosty, diamond white.

Looking back and beyond our chaos,

With ancient cheeks forever moist,

Weeping eternally for our lack

Of understanding of how it all works.

(To love another more).

Their hearts will break until time is silent.

Embracing forever (our lost) innocence

Of Newtown.

______________________________________________________________________ 

Brian O. Butler

8 June 2013