Thursday, August 11, 2022

Just Bill

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Just Bill

“Success is a lousy teacher. It seduces smart

people into think they can’t lose.”--Bill Gates.

He felt like the King of the Road.

He adhered to the Muscle Code.

He had Chevrolet Impala

on his chest; gold crayola

fenders, 396 mill,

rag top, 4-speed--name was Bill.

He felt like the King of the Road.

He adhered to the Muscle Code.

Glenn Buttkus


Posted over at d'Verse Poet's Pub

Tuesday, August 9, 2022


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“Sex in your seventies is still great, and it

certainly beats fish & chips”.--Paul Daniels

On Pier 54,.

at Seattle’s waterfront,

sit Ivar’s Fish Bar;

a local landmark & treasure.

I went there

for the first time

in the summer of 1951,

when I was seven.

Elliott Bay

batters at it’s back door.

The smell of kelp, 

wet pier timber

and barnacles

dances in the salt air.

The crowd gathers

in front of the wide high counter,

manned by four manic employees.

The menu is printed huge

on the back wall.

You must yell out your order,

as one of them repeats it

and writes it down.

Then you fade back and linger,

waiting for your food.

The Alaskan cod and halibut

is always fresh and tasty.

The clam chowder

is the best I’ve ever had,

The fries are golden & perfect,

and the tarter sauce is beyond compare.

You dine

in an outdoor covered area,

that’s heated in the windy winter.

Large flocks of sea gulls hover,

begging for a handout.

You would throw a french fry,

or a bit of fish.

into the air,

and there was always

a gull there to catch it.

It was adjacent

to  the Seattle main Ferry Docks,

and great Super Ferries,

came and went.

emptying their cars

and boarding others

beneath blasts from its horn.

A meal at Ivar’s

was always spectacle,

a major event. 

Ivar, the owner,

was quite the character,

and he did all the TV commercials

for the restaurant, reminding me of Burl Ives.

Their motto is “Keep Clam”.

I even have a bobble-head doll of him.

Glenn Buttkus

Posted over at d'Verse Poet's Pub

Monday, August 8, 2022

Typebar Gems

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Typebar Gems

“There is a similarity between juggling and

composing on a typewriter.”--Tom Robbins.


words in longhand

become typeable.


three weeks

I have infusions

of allotypes.

As an individual

I have been

called a holotype.

As actor

I was mostly



genetic determinants

are idiotypes.


d’Verse poetry

is first typeset,

then lunar-bound.

Glenn Buttkus


Posted over at d'Verse Poet's Pub

Thursday, July 28, 2022



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“Already seen. Already known. Already lived.

Deja vu, su, and vecu.”--V.E. Schwab.

Loop Quantum Gravity is mysterious merging--

merging of quantum physics and general relativity.

Relativity is the dependence on physical phenomena,

phenomena relative to the motion of the observer;

Observer, of course, can be anyone;

anyone certainly includes you.

You should realize all objects are in motion-

motion starts at the cellular level.

Level is also relative, and never linear--

linear theories are mostly confusing;

Confusing confrontations can be seen as growth;

growth has several dimensions.

Dimensions, also, are not linear; rather overlapping.

Overlapping as existence in several at the same time.

Time, like matter, is just a construct.

Constructs are actually phantoms.

Phantoms of substance and co-creation.

Co-creation touches our past and future.

Glenn Buttkus

Loop poetry

Posted over at d'Verse Poet's Pub MTB

Monday, July 25, 2022

Fistful of Zen

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 Fistful of Zen

“Zen is not work or achievement; it’s just you

becoming a revelation to your self.”--Huang Po

Freedom me

from pigeon holes.

Do not force me

to wear an

identity wrapper:   progressive,












because I am more,

much infinitely interestingly originally


starship captain,


of the universe

and beyond.

Glenn Buttkus


Posted over at the  d'Verse Poet's Pub

Wednesday, July 20, 2022

Blackthorne Episode 154

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Cinemagenic 154


“Kiss me and you will see how important I am”.

--Sylvia Plath

1(sound cue) cello and harmonica.

Narrator: Like Christ, Buck received three visitors

while he was healing. 

2(wide shot) Outside the cabin, The vaqueros were

playing cards and drinking morning coffee.

3(dolly shot) into the open front door, into the dark

shadows within. Buck awakened to being kissed--

but not kissed really, more like being licked.

4(three shot) He sat up to find Salina and Henry

attending. On his chest, partially held by Salina

was a big wriggling licking black puppy. He was

whining and wagging his tail so hard it was

thumping. He was soot black, with a star on his

forehead, part Labrador-part German Shepherd.

Salina: Someone wants to meet you.

Buck: Hey, little fella...where’d you come from?

Henry: Doc Sweeney’s bitch had a recent litter.

As the story goes, your dog was one of the

suitors, so they decided you were to have a pup.

Salina: Do you like him?

Buck: No--I love him.

5(sound cue) piano.

The pup barked, and piddled a little in his


Buck held the puppy up: He didn’t have to piss

on me though.

Salina: He is just marking his master. What will

you name him?

Buck: Only one thing I can call him--Cheewa Dos.

The three of them laughed.

Buck, holding his ribs: Christ, don’t make me laugh.

Of course, this made them laugh harder.

Salina: Shall we call him Junior?

Buck: I’m fixin’ to call him Dos. What do you say,

Dos? Dosie boy! 

The pup barked. 

Buck: He likes it. 

He ruffled up the dog’s ears.

Salina: Well, now at least you will have a

sleeping partner.

Buck: With my luck, he’ll probably be a bed hog.

Salina: Just don’t smother him in your sleep.

We’re going to ramble on, sweetheart. I’ll be 

back tonight to check on you. 

Buck: Looking forward to it.

She blew him a kiss at the door. Smiling, Henry

blew him a kiss too.

Buck: Get the hell out of here, Sweetpants.

As they exited, Buck snuggled the pup in his


Well, Dos, let me tell you about your Dad. 

Glenn Buttkus

Posted over at d'Verse Poet's Pub OLN

Tuesday, July 19, 2022

Fun With Fractals

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 Fun With Fractals

“Your whole life has the same shape as

a single day.”--Michael Crichton.

For me

a fractal is a pattern

that repeats forever,

like a dog

caught between two mirrors.

Cognitive dissonance displays

dazzling, yet carnivorous chaos;

yet we witness wonderful

vast natural symmetry all around us,

        like snake scales,

        like leopard spots,

        like zebra or tiger stripes,

        like someone’s freckles.

This world is mired in chaos,

ten times infinity;

a moebius maze with no exit.

How the hell can we balance

plague and melting glaciers,

drowning polar bears and wildfires,

immigration and xenophobia,

pro-choice and pro-life,

peace talks and politics,

war crimes and civil rights,

lobbyists and logic,

racism and religion, 

Space Force and the National debt??

How do we accept or accommodate to

bald-face lies that are

treated as the truth

by brain-dead knuckle-dragging millions

I heard on CNN today

that the only way we can get rid of Trump

is to assassinate his foul rump, or hope he will die

from his KFC/Burger King diet.

Glenn Buttkus

Posted over at d'Verse Poet's Pub