The House of Glory

The House of Glory

Life wasn’t like the one that was promoted

This life has been such a sad story—

Just substitute the names from the ones of old,

Is it too late to go into the house of glory?

People passing you by in the streets,

Sayin’ “How are you?” – “I’m well”

But the truth is they’ve hidden from the world,

In reality, their lives have been nothing short of hell.

How have we’ve gotten ourselves in such position?

Has the truth become such a darned imposition?

Is it too late rewrite that old, old story

And come into the house of glory?

Give me a sip, you say, of that old trouble remover

And let’s drown away all of this pain.

But at the end of this long day, say son,

What has that drink really gained?

But up ahead is that a light that I see?

That faint flicker so far away--

Tell me Lord is that you coming for me?

Because this place wasn’t meant for me to stay.

I heard you say put away the troubles of my mind—

That you'll give some peace for me to find.

Can you please rewrite this sad, sad story,

And lead me into the house of glory?

Greg Butz

May 24, 2009

This poem was very influenced by a couple of Bill Withers songs, that I was listening to today while grading papers. One line was “the house of glory” and from that idea, inspired and thus transpired the rest of this poem. I was very curious to write about life from the other perspective—hope you enjoyed this little poem. Just incase you’re wondering, I don’t believe that my life has been a sad story, because of the One who lives through me.

Oh Dreary Morning

Oh dreary morning

The overcast skies were streaked with grey,
As the trees danced all about –
Swaying to the rhythm of nature’s concert
Directed by the winds that surround.

Gingerly fidgeting yet remaining firm
Perched an assortment of green leaves,
Clinging to them, round water beads glistened
While showers of rain fell around.

Back and forth rocked the stout branches,
Interrupting birds as they snuggled—
They chirped cautiously with each strong breeze,
That threatened to knock them out of the trees.

Oh dreary morning, with a sun struck sky,
Who would want to venture without sunshine?
Childhood memories of splashing through deep puddles
Seem so distant from me this time.

Oh dreary morning, with bright orange petals
Opening up to lap the cool drink from the skies—
Though the rains reawaken nature’s vibrant colors,
I’ve decided today, to stay warm and dry inside.

Hold You Tight

Hold You Tight

The signs of another ominous day—

With mean clouds darkening the skies,

And when whatever is not going right

I’ll be there to hold you tight.

When the stress of life is bothering

And when no one seems to listen,

Don’t worry because I’ll be there

To forget how to talk, and just to hear.

Was the world giving you the cold shoulder?

And isolating you with their icy stares—

I’ll warm you up with a friendly smile,

And show that you really are worthwhile.

And the times that are too tough—

With all the turmoil that life has brought

Don’t bother dabbing out eyes—

For I have two dry shoulders, for your cries.

And when one hug is not enough

When all that was right goes wrong,

You can forget all your worries—out of sight

For I’ll be there you’ll see—just holding you tight.

Greg Butz

May 16, 2009

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I don’t know… I guess I wanted another semi-romantic poem. Sometimes I just want to be a protector – to be a knight in shinning armor and run to the aid of a fair maiden in distress. I don’t necessarily want to solve all the problems, nor do I need to fight off all the dragons. Rather, I just want to be a solid foundation and to just be a listening ear for that special someone who needs me.

The Expert

The Expert

Be an expert in these areas

Show them all what’s right—

If they claim and show alarm,

Brush their concerns out of sight.

Train them in the way they should go,

And the difference from right and wrong.

Show to them how to make good decisions

Through the media and their songs.

And what of the one who disagrees?

The girl with her hand always up?

Override all her thoughts,

And if all else fail tell her to “shut up.”

“But sir”, I ask, not wishing to offend,

“If my viewpoints always win—

Though hers be equally strong

Do I convey that I’m only right,

-- and hers are but a sin?”

In silent disbelief I stared ,

As he began laughing at me—

Did he think it foolishness

This thought that I conceived?

“I once thought the way you do," began he

"Actually it wasn’t so long;

But once you begin doubting yourself—

Then everything will go wrong.

So take it all in at once,

And even if you’re wrong—

It’s better to appear half-right,

Than someone who’s not strong.”

“I cannot do that!” I said aloud—

Convinced this was my case,

"And become a wretched hypocrisy,

And her confidence to erase.

Nor will I stunt her ingenuity,

And the cleverness of her opposition—

I’d rather be dismissed at once

Than to stunt the growth of cognition."

“Than you will be a sad man

As your power is overtly usurped

She may have her fame and fortune,

While you’ll be lucky to make an excerpt.”

“I know what it is that I risking,

And the authority that might go missing,

But don’t be surprised when you find,

That I helped develop, the next wonderful mind.”

By Greg Butz

May 13, 2009

As a teacher sometimes you encounter students who know more than you. Not in all subjects, just typically in the history of Canada. While very knowledgeable in many areas of social studies and history, I sometimes don’t know the small background details – this poem was a reaction to it. I may not know it all – but I’m happy to admit this, I hope that this has helped develop, the next “wonderful mind.”

A Million Faceless People

A Million Faceless People

Walking aimlessly through the world

They stumble and run into each other—

Unable to find their way in life,

Isolated and without hope they suffer.

Yet together with the masses they march

An army with no direction to go—

As they drift and wafer in front of us

Their purpose, no one seems to know.

With ears they cannot hear

And eyes they cannot see

Yet they follow blindly and listen

To what they are told to believe

Am I so different from these masses?

In this world, will I find my way?

Instead, I refuse to snort or bleat,

While all these sheep have gone astray.

I raise my voice as if to shout,

And do my best to persuade

But their futures are as blurry as they seem.

As a million faceless people go on parade.

By Greg Butz

May 11^th, 2009

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I wrote this poem after visiting China, however, it’s not a reaction against China nor its people. I had just purchased new prescription sun- glasses, however I was unable to wear them. Instead, I wore a different pair of non-prescription glasses. So to me, the world appeared to be a blur. From that, I turned to Adam Laforrest and remarked, “I see a million faceless people.” So with that inspiration in mind, it became the foundation for the rest of my poem. It’s a poem about a directionless purpose, and basically I see that a lot in the United States. People going with the “flow” and just following whoever they deem a leader—in my estimation, this is very sad.

Happy Mother's Day (You Will Always Be My Mom)

Happy Mother's Day (You Will Always Be My Mom)

It was just twenty-four years ago in May,
When you experienced your very first Mother’s Day
What a joy it must have been
When you held me in your arms back then.

Did you know what I’d become?
The day when you held your very first son
But you should know you raised me well
Though at times my heart would rebel…

So happy, happy Mothers Day
I know that I’m eternally grateful
That I could run and call you mom
When all the things in life went wrong

No accolades could express
All the wisdom that you possess
Though my childhood may be gone
You will always be my mom!

Through the teenage years, you must have been a mess
As your patience I would constantly test—
And though I could fall to pieces,
Still you helped smooth out my jagged creases.

And yes you did shape me—
Though at times we would disagree,
And all the things in life that I’ve achieved
Is only because you believed!

Do Remember when I received my first car?
Though I didn’t travel very far—
This must have been a terrifying clue
That I’d one day be leaving you.

And then one day I left for good
But you knew this and you understood
I would eventually have to leave your home.
And branch out and make it on my own

I still haven’t found the girl of my dreams
Even though you know she’s out there
Though one day, she’ll become my wife
She’ll never replace your impact on my life.

You never were perfect,
But no one said you had to be
But still you tried your best—
And did one heck of a job

So Happy, happy Mothers Day
I know that I’m eternally grateful
That I can run and call you mom
When all the things in life go wrong

No accolades could express
All the wisdom that you possess
Though my childhood may be gone
You will always be my mom!

No matter what happens
You will always, always be, my Mom

The Time We Never Had

The Time We Never Had

It has been another year

Oh where has the time gone?

If I could only stop my life,

From quickly going by—

Then the world would stop spinning

To and find at their surprise

That life would be only

—you and I.

You and I together, forever;

Is it too real to be true?

To share a warm smile,

And those little things we do

But that life would slowly vanish

Like it never ever was –

As I find out one day sadly

That the time missed –

Was the time we never had.

By

Greg Butz

May 8, 2009

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I was going to go a completely different direction for this poem, but in the end, it turned into a quasi-romantic poem or it could be a poem about romance. It really is quite ambiguous -- and I'm not 100% certain on its meaning, even though I wrote it. It was a reflection on not taking advantage of the opportunities you have, and one day those will all be gone.

Misplaced Memories

Misplaced Memories

Traveling down the speedways through the busyness of life,
At times it’s too difficult to stop and take a pause.
But when I do its bittersweet as distant memories flood my mind—
With the joys of my accomplishments and the pain from my flaws.

I remember a time when it was too dark I had gone astray—
Without much light illuminating all of life’s jagged ways.
When I stumbled down, and bruised my head upon the ground,
Were you there beside me, helping me to be found?

Misplaced memories of mine are troubling in my mind—
Has the uncertainty of today, overwritten the memories of yesterday?
I try my best, dear friend, to picture you there by my side –
But all I see is static's haze, or fail to remember you at all.

This feeling of nostalgia in me is somewhat of a mystery—
For I know we have shared laughter and the times of great fun—
But something has happened to the memories of our joint history
And sadly as the moon rises, I see the setting of the sun.

And I try my best to remember!
But alas I cannot—

Perhaps I forgot to save
Or I have misplaced.... all my memories.

Written by Greg Butz

May 7th, 2009.

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This poem is unique because it is actually dedicated to one of my student's, Melissa So (who receives all credit for this poem Idea). She had left a thought provoking profile message "misplaced memories" which prompted the rest of the poem. Just for fun, I added the line * (And just like the mystery that’s become of my history paper)* right below "But alas I cannot" for the her special edition of the poem. (She received a remarkably high grade on a history paper last semester, but had misplaced the soft copy portion until, ironically, yesterday it was found again. Thanks for the idea!