This Tree

By C. Rommial Butler

This Tree is a compilation of poems, songs and philosophical essays by the philosopher-artist C. Rommial Butler, which is the result of a series of meditations on Percy Shelley's A Defense of Poetry. The musical works of C. Rommial Butler can be found online under that name, as well as through his contributions to Indianapolis bands Act of Confusion and Burning Giant. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: C. Rommial Butler
• Release date: Jun 16, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201592202

Book preview

VIRTUE

The inevitability

Of our dissolution

Is just cause

For valor.

SKIN

Comfortable

In my skin.

I wear it

Like an old robe.

MORALITY

Morality

is not

a condition

of our existence

but an existence

we condition.

SPIRITUAL STRENGTH

The source

of spiritual strength

is to cultivate

indifference

to opinions...

––––––––

even our own.

THE VALUE OF KNOWLEDGE

The general acquisition of knowledge increases the possibility of discovery by heightening the ability to connect seemingly exclusive endeavors.

The World

The world

Has been cruel

To everybody.

No one escapes

The days that pass

Between

(beatings?)

The ravages

Of fate.

––––––––

No one escapes

The world.

LOST

Forever behind,

always chasing something.

––––––––

Sometimes we fail to catch up.

––––––––

We have to let it go.

––––––––

Opportunities lost are importunate ghosts

haunting the darkest recesses of the mind.

Blood and Water

Stabbed in the heart

With an icicle.

Warm blood melts cold ice

And leaves a gaping hole.

How is this creature

Still living?

How does its mind

Maintain control?

The Cage

A heart oft-broken,

A mass of knotted tissue

Beating to the rhythm

Of fading dreams.

Reprehensible

Human animal

Snarls only

When the cage door

Is left open...

––––––––

But never leaves.

STREETS

In an old neighborhood

the streets are haunted.

––––––––

The ghosts

of past transgressions

stain the atmosphere

like blood stains our clothes,

and electric lamplight

does nothing

to dispel the shadow

that lurks

in the corners

of our collective heart.

NOCTURNE

Broken spirit,

Bleeding light,

Would not give in

Without a fight.

Torn asunder,

Free at last

From the demons

Of the past.

Is it true love

If not the truth?

Wishful thinking

Damns our youth.

––––––––

It seems that everything dies...

Ipsissimosity

Mirror, mirror, on the wall,

Who died and made you king

Of all the thoughts and feelings

In every breaking thing?

Better that you were broken

So the feelings will pour free

Ordered by the thought

Of what we will ourselves to be.

Crosses

He embraced the never,

Forever to scream...

Has he earned the right

To sleep forever

And never to dream?

He has spurned the light.

––––––––

If only to sever

His link to the dream

He sheltered the night.

Lonely endeavor,

Ominous scream...

He sweltered the blight.

ME

I cannot live among you.

I can only appear,

Like the ghost of a memory,

Or a dream-dark apparition,

I can only lurk

At the corners of consciousness,

More awake than the shadow

And the light that conceived me,

The single bipartite entity

Ever imagining my fall:

YOU

Season of the Day

Sunlight refracts

Through newly formed leaves

On the swaying branches

Of the trees, glistening

From the dew-laden grass,

A sparkling divination,

Symbols retrogressing

Back to the source

As Sol rises, bathing

All in a light

With no shadow,

Though—alas!—only

For a small season of the day.

VICIOUS CYCLE OR VIRTUOUS CIRCLE?

It takes all kinds

In all places

At all times

In all spaces

To make change

And rearrange

The broken things

Into useful rings.

The growing pains

That strengthen chains

Are ours to choose,

To rightly use

Or wrongly abuse.

––––––––

What choice will you make?