Today
by John Butterfield
Between hope and despair is a nowhere place
where it is too soon for weeping
and too late for partying
and all is unsettled, uncertain, unclear.
And in this empty place
this place of waiting
there is, most strangely, a peace
a deep, deep, peace
that comes from the deep faith
that beyond all human understanding
somewhere amidst the uncertainty
God is at work.
And we, protected from the vast void of nothing
which is the possibilities of futures unborn,
we live and love and watch the flowers grow
in the unsentimental reality
that is the present moment.
Tuesday, 31 January 2012
Monday, 30 January 2012
Creed
by John Butterfield
I believe in God
the father almighty
most of the time
but sometimes
I wonder
what life would be like
if I didn't.
If there was no moral origin to the universe.
If there were no origin in love
and no destination in love
just a rabid struggle for supremacy
without rules
in the short years of life.
If we lived and accumulated
and bonked and fought
and hid and cried
knowing that nothing meant anything
and all was ephemeral floss.
If the big brother house
were the model for life
and the animal instincts
we have mostly civilised
became rampart serpents
in the evolutionary struggle
of not so sociable
social Darwinianism.
As we trudge onward
on our return journey
to the primal slime....
I'd prefer to believe in God!
(The image accompanying this entry is one of the series of engravings by William Blake illustrating the story of Job)
I believe in God
the father almighty
most of the time
but sometimes
I wonder
what life would be like
if I didn't.
If there was no moral origin to the universe.
If there were no origin in love
and no destination in love
just a rabid struggle for supremacy
without rules
in the short years of life.
If we lived and accumulated
and bonked and fought
and hid and cried
knowing that nothing meant anything
and all was ephemeral floss.
If the big brother house
were the model for life
and the animal instincts
we have mostly civilised
became rampart serpents
in the evolutionary struggle
of not so sociable
social Darwinianism.
As we trudge onward
on our return journey
to the primal slime....
I'd prefer to believe in God!
(The image accompanying this entry is one of the series of engravings by William Blake illustrating the story of Job)
Sunday, 29 January 2012
Love
Love just is
By John Butterfield
“I love you”
is a phrase that never
should be followed by “but” or “even if”
for if it does then it is not love
Love does not have pre-conditions
does not require exemptions
is not qualified
love just is
and being so
is enough
for love does not notice imperfection
love does not count faults
love transcends petty annoyances
so love is not easy
and love does not happen often
and if it does
treasure it
nurture it
keep it safe from harm
for though it is strong
like all living things
without care and attention
it will wither and die.
I love you
never with a “but” or an “even if”
for love just is.
Saturday, 28 January 2012
Two options for making a baby with love
by John Butterfield
Option 1
I want a baby
I need some sperm
from tall athletic and intelligent guy
- graduate of course
he loves donating
check internet availability
I need some eggs
from tall, blonde, musical and athletic
girl: blue eyes
she loves college: being harvested pays
the fees
check internet availability
I need a womb
non smoking home, good diet, no alcohol
or drugs
she loves her family but needs to feed
them
check internet availability
Then the waiting
cooking with the oven door closed
I have never loved waiting
can't think of a way to speed up this
part
Then I'll take over
with my commissioned item delivered
ready for use
I can give all the love in my heart
that I have stored up in welcome
* * * * *
Option 2
We loved and joined in love
made from love something small
that grew until it burst forth
through pain
to be loved
and love those who made her......
(inspired after attemding a lecture on neo-natal ethics!)
The big clear out...
by John Butterfield
And with the crud
exiting to the trashcan
go the remnants of my life:
bits and pieces of detritus
collected along the way
but now worthless
taking up space
clutter.
A new beginning.
A fresh start
requires a spring clean
a deep clean
getting to the roots
of all the old dirtiness
all the old messiness
and vacuuming it all away...
A bit like salvation really
as some would have you believe
a new beginning
a fresh start
and having cleared out the rubbish
of missed opportunities
of un-righted wrongs
and messed up relationships
the new day brings the possibility
of forgiveness
and a future
different to the past.....
Labels:
clean,
clean out,
new start,
poem,
poetry,
repentance,
rubbish,
salvation,
spring clean,
trash
Friday, 27 January 2012
Peter's wife
by John Butterfield
Simon Peter, first apostle, rock
foundation of the church
was a man with a mother in law
(so it says in the bible)
Who then was Peter's wife
who washed his clothes after he sank
She who was left at home with the kids
while he went trailing around the
countryside
following the dreamer of dreams
She whose mother was ill
and who persuaded Peter
if he needed any persuasion
to bring his healer friend
and heal her
If he was not fishing
where did she get money to
feed her inevitable brood of infants?
It is somewhat ironic
that the men who has since that time
claimed to sit in Peter's chair
have never had a wife!
Is that why she was erased from
history!
Late night togetherness
Not a Jukebox
nor a band
nor excessive noise
but the soft sultry song
from a solo saxophone
slowly sighing.
Without conversation
having conversed well
and eaten too
we sit close together
comfortable
sipping fine wine
embraced and caressed
by the lilting tones
and each aware of the
tired contentment
in the others eyes.
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