Thursday, August 17, 2017

Love Me Hard


image from imgarcade.com


Love Me Hard

“Love is so short, forgetting is so long.”
--Pablo Neruda.

In my youth, with discovered raging hormones,
love and lust were interchangeable, inseparable. 
So many exciting & sexy lovers on parade,
as Eros captivated & ruled every waking moment--

and only intensified in my smoldering slumber,
as I was often awakened to throbbing erections
and steaming wet dreams, prancing and dashing
about, fully stimulated, like a young stag in rut.

But then I began to consider serious relationships,
to confine my erotic focus on one woman, to seek
out more meaning, less haze, deeper commitment.

It took three marriages and forty chaotic years
of searching, stumbling, experimenting to finally

find the actual bona fide love of my life--my real wife.


Glenn Buttkus

Posted over at dVerse Pets Pub  

Tuesday, August 15, 2017

Ballad of Bathos


image from vinileshop.it


Ballad of Bathos

“I know you need your sleep now,
I know your life’s been hard,
But many men are falling
Where you promised to stand guard.”
--Leonard Cohen.

I know you pride yourself
as an outsider, a maverick,
never trapped on a shelf;
but your very best trick 

was to convince a lot of us
that you felt our pain,
that you understood our fuss,
that we all could ride on your train.

So here we are 6 months in,
with so many bodies under the bus,
with empty platitudes creating a din,
as America shops for a truss.

My God, sir--Nazis are marching,
and people are dying,
as you take refuge in your tower,
kiss golden toilets & stroke your power.

It is sad so many of us are already old
and will not live to actually see
your piggy mouth fill up with mold
as the country regains sweet liberty.



Glenn Buttkus

Posted over at dVerse Poets Pub

Monday, August 14, 2017

Love Capture


image from pinterest.com


Love Capture 

“Every great dream begins with a dreamer.”
--Harriet Tubman.

As a poet.
I’m as much 
a dreamer,
as I am a witness
to the full spectrum
of my perceptions
of life,
the universe
and breaking news.

Love
is the common
denominator.

For my part.
I’d much prefer
to catch rainbows
rather than

klansmen.


Glenn Buttkus

Posted over at dVerse Poets Pub Q44

Tuesday, August 8, 2017

Shades


image from christimcguire.com


Shades 

“We may sit in the shade of a tree today because
someone planted that tree a long time ago.”
--Warren Buffett

Shade is made up of deep shadows,
a multiplicity of shadows
clinging to each other, overlapping,
pushing and shoving
in joyful play, 
in fellowship--
shades of boisterous bliss
that yearn to cool our sweaty brows.

A beautiful place for picnics,
                                 romance,
                                 contemplation,
                                 siestas,
                                 sanctuary & 
                                 meditation--

yet not all shadows
comprise or provide shade,
much like bees are insects
but not all insects are bees.

Shades often companion curtains, or stand in for 
them, or sometimes replace them. Pencil drawings 
are flat and one dimensional without shadings. 
Personalities would be shallow & colorless without 
diverse complex emotional shadings--even the sea
contains shades of change within its fathoms.

Shade is more than a
blanket as it spreads below 

the mighty maple.


Glenn Buttkus


Posted over at dVerse Poets Pub

Monday, August 7, 2017

Eyes of Fire


image from  rileybrad.wordpress.com


Eyes of Fire

“Only with a leaf, can I talk of the forest.”
--Visar Zhiti.

Too often, it seems to me, here in the north/south--
west, we seem to experience more summer wild-
fires than the folks on the east coast. Perhaps we
pay little attention to their news, or don’t receive
the reporting--but the fact remains that our grand
and sprawling spacious forests always seem to be
a lightning rod for fiery episodes.

Hardy firefighting smoke jumpers are truly some of
our bravest souls. Watching recycled old military
planes & stout double ended helicopters dumping
tons of reservoir water & huge clouds of blood red
fire retardant on exploding valleys, foothills and
screaming mountain sides is both fascinating and
terrifying.

Trees are essential
to sustain life; we must safe-

guard our sweet forests.


Glenn Buttkus

Thursday, August 3, 2017

Lessons


image from pinterest.com 


Lessons

“Learn as if you were going to live forever.”
--Mahatma Gandhi. 

Can anyone really be a poet
only writing in sumptuous free verse,
or can one be boring & not know it?

I used to think Walt Whitman was a god,
but sometimes I try a different form
to tighten my verbose style,

to insure my poetics aren’t lukewarm,
threadbare, shallow or shop-worn.
I say we should never stop learning,

from first poems in the beginning,
to successful forays into classic forms;
from poetic haze into those perfect storms

of words descending as our message pierces
all those readers very receptive hearts,

becoming targets for cupid’s loving darts.


Glenn Buttkus


Posted over at dVerse Poets Pub MTB

Tuesday, August 1, 2017

Is This The End


image from coatingservices.biz


Is This The End?

“The killer awoke before dawn. He put his
boots on.”--Jim Morrison

I swear GOD is
   a politician; his explication and
         rebuttal to our accusation that he
               could not possibly love us as much as
         he claims--otherwise why do we 
   have to face death with every
breath--why in hell do unspeakably
tragic things happen regularly to
good people--you know, like concentration camps,
                                              bullies & batterers,
                                              genocide.
                                               patricide,
                                               dire hopeless poverty,
                                               serial killers,
                                               plagues,
and way too many assholes in charge of everything
--is that hey, man was given
free will & a road map from
the Get, and simply all those
who choose to disregard        morality,
                                               honesty,
                                               decency,
                                               equity,
                                               equality,
                         & the rule of divine law
                are just choosing to exercise
            their God-given right
        to be themselves in
the humane heart of an
extant Celestial Democracy;
dig it. 

The kicker, the egress from all this negative stress
is that a titanic ton of us choose to believe that yes,
all things wear out, so there will be an end to our
husk, but our essence joyfully shifts, skipping and
singing rap hosannas to our next adventure as 
easily as one travels through a revolving door. 

So, as this poem ends,
actually, the poetics only pause;
this pregnant portion of my poetic
continuum will be finished for now;
I tell myself that these words will find
closure, that my depleted creativity
will have to be recharged before the
next prompt, the next Muse’s call
for my response--that as a poet, my
words will live on, unstoppable, 
regardless of what may happen to me

--that is until Morrison’s naked Indian
spirit guide shows up in my dreams;
feathers tied to his phallus, wearing
blood red warpaint, and he walks right
up to me & says:

“Dude, don’t be stupid;
we both are aware that right

now--this is the end.”


Glenn Buttkus

Posted over at dVerse Poets Pub