Airsick cosmonaut rubber-banding around a star seeks a haven an orb capable of maintaining health, safety, peace. Aft float the remnants, blazing and terrifying, of an erstwhile home. Soul sick woman zombie-treading through her days seeks happiness a bubble which will maintain health, safety, peace. Enwreathing her are floaters in her eyesight remnants of an erstwhile life. -published Highland Park Poetry Daily Poem, Fall 2021
Lavender Skies
Lavender skies smoky tinged clouds - Appears as if the world has flipped upside down Gazing upwards at the beauty I imagine the sky is now a wide ocean shore Pools of water standing here and there reflecting the pink sunset from the west A crow flies over and breaks the spell No seagull only vertigo I return to earth -published Highland Park Poetry Daily Poem, December 2021
Dirty Sneakers
Dirty sneakers sittin' by the boardwalk Steely Dan harmonize so pretty Silken sand beneath my feet I breathe a sigh from toe to fingertip The difficulty in simple contentment Is the short lifespan of such Life is quite a tempest With which I strive to cope Whitecaps toss hither and yon On black opal sea- utmost glory Rude seagulls screech overhead All apropos to the latest turn of events The long day begins to wane Kurt Cobain now suits me well Heaving myself to my feet I retrieve Dirty sneakers sittin' by the boardwalk - published Highland Park Poetry Daily Poem, Fall 2021
Barn Door
What a mess
sloppy grimy
bruised emotions
now held in check,
an empty wine glass
drained of jewel toned nectar.
A heavy barn door
is pulled tight
against the storm’s onslought.
Sharp shining rays
pierce the dingy
dusty interior.
Words to live by
to take to heart
to contemplate
once the door is flung wide.
-published Highland Park Poetry Fall/Winter Muse’s Gallery 2021
The Onslought
A storm is near I smell the rain It approaches rolling and churning bringing with it the pain It bursts overhead dousing me complete A shade drawn over my eyesight mud sucking at my feet Jagged snippets and enveloping ebony Clouds twist above They whirl and blow a misty veil around me As quickly as it approached the agony retreats My spirit sore - soaked to the core yet I will never admit defeat -to be published in Volume 6, Open Skies Quarterly
Heavy
Here we are... Barren room with minimal furniture, rough textured sheets and thin blanket adorn the platform bed. A radio, static laden, squawks from the desk (not my music of choice or necessity). My eyes sting and burn are heavy and worn making it difficult to remain awake, though I have had two naps today thus far. Dark gray skies above dark gray parking deck - my window view. I test a smile as I scribble. My cheeks are stiff, cardboard replacing skin. No fresh thoughts rise to the surface, no relief from the dull ache in my forehead. -to be published in Volume 6, Open Skies Quarterly
Apology
What can I say?
An apology feels
like a dust mote
afloat
in the air currents
plus
who shall say:
I am sorry
for the ache inside
-to be published in Volume 6, Open Skies Quarterly
Many Birds Sing Outside
The sky has not yet lightened
And the house is silent
But many birds sing outside
Many birds sing outside
I sit here blue and lonely
My stomach has butterflies
My stomach has butterflies
I know not exactly why
But I awoke thinking of you
I awoke thinking of you
You walked through my dreams
I cannot cry any longer
I cannot cry any longer
Though I loved you so deeply
I pray we shall meet again
Prayers we shall meet again
Echo in my bones
As I write to you so deeply sad
I write to you deeply saddened
My stomach twisting with butterflies
Birds outside sing to me
-to be published Puppycat the Anthology,2021
(written for my darling Lucy)
paper doll
the world is flat
no matter proof
of scientists
the atmosphere
dull
clouds merely
painted on the sky
frozen face
no muscle memory here
smiling feels contrived
a paper doll
edges crumbling
with age
fill me with air
so that I may float
into the atmosphere
- published 45 Magazine Literary Journal, January 2022
The box/pinprick hole
I
a woman in a box
Pinprick hole
admits the light
as I shift
and fold in to myself
Shadows drift
around my body
Dust motes
dance
before my eyes
My outstretched fingers
close off the beam
of white
momentarily
and I
hover in complete
darkness
I scratch and
scrabble at the
miniscule opening
ripping and tearing
fingernails snapping off
until the gap
becomes
substantial enough
to accommodate
my outreached
arm
published Gnashing Teeth Publishing, "One Poem a Day", April 2021
Renee Butner 