And so the writing begins…

Writing is easy. All you have to do is delete the wrong words” – Mark Twain

While reading this blog, you will find uncategorized written pieces, that were once thoughts that wandered in the grooves of my mind… Some of these pieces are sad, some written in Afrikaans and some, you might even find hopeful in kind…

So… top up that glass or fill up that cup and enjoy the read… You might just resonate and find that little something you need…


Cloudy days…

A cloudy Tuesday morning

Grey skies lingering as far as the eye can see;

On days like these – the mind ponders restlessly, about life and all it could be.

Scenery changes as we look at the world through a lens of a different kind;

Greyscale – the heart heavy, yet hopeful about the future and what has been left behind.

Cloudy days alter the taste of coffee and illuminates the feeling of snuggly clothes against the skin;

Shifting emphasis to the state of mind (good or bad) that you are in.

Some people are paralyzed by the dispiriting aura of such a day;

The feeling of depression, into existence makes its way.

Others enjoy the mellow and snug inkling that comes with the overcast;

Wishing that the bank of clouds would remain and forever last.

Whichever you are, remember to set focus on the positives that remain;

Days like these bring hope of quenching thirst – with the residual promise of rain.

By ML Butler

The forgotten art of romance…

Dating in the 21st century

In today’s day, less effort is key;

Quick access, online shopping, no standing in lines for me.

A mentality where one does not have to work for what you get;

Happy on social media, filtered, photoshopped – the standard is set.

Connection defined by follows, likes and chatting on the phone;

While in reality we exist by ourselves… apart – all alone.

Effort is seen as a text or an uber eats delivery to her door;

Romantic dinners, and quality time- something that exists no more.

What happened to chivalry, putting in effort and the term ‘one-and-only’?

Where are the days where a man would open the door, and put her needs first instead of focusing on his own – leaving her lonely.

It is sad to note the art of romance – where forgotten it stands;

Empty spaces between those who look happy in pictures (laughing, kissing and holding hands).

Where in reality they live their lives so far apart;

longing for a deeper connection with a beating heart.

Our generation will suffer the fate of never knowing real love;

The kind with touch, eye contact and time spent together – where having only one is enough.

The little effort, upon which relationships are built in today’s day;

A broken heart inevitable with the lack of honesty, loyalty and backbone (if I may).

The shallow love so eagerly shared, will never withstand the hardships that life can bring;

For your other – not your world, but a replaceable plaything.

We have only one life, that soon will pass;

leaving nothing behind, as only that which is done in love, will last.

– by ML Butler

Enough is enough

On behalf of all the women in SA #AmInext?


a word associated with vulnerability, a target in this land;

against the physical strength of a man, no chance we stand.

Defenseless we are kidnapped, murdered, raped…often the victims of abuse;

So many times seen as a form of income- objects for bad men to use.

A lot of us go day by day, not thinking if…but when;

Living with constant anxiety, distrust and fear of men.

Masculine, protector, provider of safety… a real man’s traits;

these words we do not associate with you and your mates.

“Her dress was too short”, “she asked for it”, “she deserved it”… your excuse;

as around her neck you tighten the noose.

Forcefully… you take that, which to you does not belong;

You ravish, you slaughter…and you don’t think it wrong.

Enough is enough, this stops now- we are not something you own;

As women we say “my body is mine, and mine alone.”

NO! does not in any culture or language mean okay;

Wake up, she needs your safekeeping, start standing up for her today!

To the men out there who take pride in protecting their women (ladies, daughters and mothers);

We respect, love and salute you for leading by example, unlike the others.

– by ML Butler









To those who want to, but can’t…

Dedicated to the ones who want to love, but can’t because of illness, religion or culture…

Have you ever stopped to wonder how it must feel to not be allowed to touch, kiss, feel and be with the one you love…

Sometimes, loving another means bringing shame to the family, banishment and even like in the case of lovers with Cystic Fibrosis…death.

We all love differently, but in the end it’s important that we love and that we remember that being allowed to love another is a privilege that some do not have..

This piece is dedicated to the ones who want to, but can’t…

When all goes quiet…

On behalf of a beer loving biker. I hope your heart finds peace my friend…

A life in motion; at a speed that the normal would fear.

Adrenaline he seeks in the hope that this feeling would disappear.

When all goes quiet, nothing can stop his mind;

from wandering to that moment she left him behind.

That picture of her holding a bunch of his sweaters, as she got out of her car;

How did they ever let it get this far.

The words formed by her lips pierced their way through his heart…

She was his everything; the one with which every day would start.

You’ll now find his heart in pieces – broken in two;

What had made it come to this – the answer no one knew.

When all goes quiet he feels the pain of coming to terms with a broken heart;

I guess good things too sometimes fall apart.

In an attempt to escape there’s a rush he desires;

The soothing sound of her engine’s fire.

The feeling of freedom brought about by danger, speed…and its thrill;

A replacement, for her – the one that he called his girl.

Short-lived that feeling of heartache-no-more;

He wishes for her every time there‘s a knock on his door.

Since the moment she left, his heart has longed for her to return;

It is her and only her for whom he’ll forever yearn.

His morning, his night, his partner in crime;

He tells himself that she’ll return, all she needs is time.

Till then you’ll find him where many men have died;

On his bike, the open road he’ll ride.

A mirror in pieces

Have you ever experienced that unbelievably, revolting and excruciating feeling that comes with being blind-sided by someone you love.

News that tears the heart, resulting in a sympathetic response with blood throbbing through every single part of your body. Your throat tightening up, making breathing hard as hell, along with fluid building up in your eyes – as you attempt to remain strong and hide the absolute shock that you are in.

What horrific happening can result in the activation of the sympathetic system other than being attacked by a lion? Well, adultery, dishonesty and disappointment for one. Which brings me to my next piece :

Initially our mirror reflected love and light and sunshine.

You swore you needed no one, your eyes were only mine.

These are the lies that us girls with good hearts believe.

In the end it’s only ourselves that we deceive.

I saw you as lion, a king who held his ground.

A man of honour who kept his word, even with no one around.

In my eyes you were a warrior, smart, cunning and kind.

I cannot believe that my love for you had me this blind.††

This is not a dream from which you can awake.

Choices without thinking about what is at stake.

The residual, the consequences, the damage is done.

The two of us once were one and now we’re none.

The knife in your hand – stabbing away at my heart.

I should’ve listened to those who warned me, from the start.

A bad choice is very different from a stupid mistake.

A coward blaming alcohol and emotions -while it’s the truth you want to escape.

Heartless you use the word sorry like salt over a meal.

Plentiful and meaningless, as long as you won me over in the deal.

“Can we start over” was your ending sentence every time.

Stupid, I believed you again allowing you to call me “mine”.

In relationships there are principals that serve as foundation.

Building on nothing – with you, only led to heartache and frustration.

Loyalty and honesty, the most important of the pack.

These are the ones that you seem to lack.

Head down, self-loathing and bitter you face the facts.

Choices made, now dealing with the consequences of your acts.

Never again will you call me “mine” nor will you ever feel my skin.

You, yourself, build the house that you are currently standing in.

Like a crack in a mirror, the damage is done.

There’s no fixing or coming back from this one.

I wish you hadn’t done it, I wish you loved me more.

Instead, you chose to let that mirror fall, now lying shattered on the floor.

Letting you go is hard – go live your life and find another.

I do however beg you, to be better to your next lover.

Be that man, that I held onto and hoped you’d become.

Be loyal, honest, helping and loving – as your father raised his son.

My pieces will find their way up off the floor.

In time I’ll be assembled again by a hand whom will adore,

my warmness, intensity and the love that I reflect.

I know that I will miss you, but not want you back – and live out my life without regret. 

That smile…

She’s flipping through photos, taken just the other day…
She’d been missing him ever since he went away.
Pictures, holding memories that she cannot replace…
The feeling consumes her – it’s like floating in space..

He looks at her like she’s never been looked at before…
His eyes filled with love, those eyes she forever will adore.
She sits there breathing, soaking up the moment for a while…
There it is… that ridiculously handsome smile.

Out in daylight she sees clouds drift by…
She remembers his first “I love you” and blushes shy.
The memories, pouring in like storming rain…
In her life, his character’s role is the main. 

Closing the album, the images burnt into her mind…
That one time love, she was lucky to find.
Inside her heart, a flame – that will never grow dim…
She saw her true love in those pictures, she saw him.

Again, she sits there, her heart pounding as if she ran a mile…
There he is, holding her hand… yes, the one with that smile.