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D.E.Z. Butler

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Member Since: Jul, 2008

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· The Madam's Cookbook

· The Telepathists

· The Marin Madam

· Telepathy Will Change Your Life

· Compilation of Escorts and Clients

Short Stories
· Age Retirement What it means to me

· Case Study: AIDS crisis:

· Globalization

· Mein Kampf to Militia

· The Store Detective

· The Alleged War on Drugs

· Parapsychology

· Analysis of Oil

· I Cried

· One Fine Night

· I Played Your Dance

· Father

· My Fate

· Flicker

· Whisper Cloud

· Life to Reason

         More poetry...
· The Madam's Cookbook

· The Telepathists

· Answering a Phone in 1982 escort service Marin County

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Books by D.E.Z. Butler
by D.E.Z. Butler
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Rated "G" by the Author.

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Recent poems by D.E.Z. Butler
•  I Cried
•  One Fine Night
•  I Played Your Dance
•  Father
•  My Fate
           >> View all 9

My kin, my family, I have found in what I now call Kinland.

D.E.Z. Butler

Kinland is not next to Finland,
it stops where I step my feet.
The land my forefathers stood
upon. The land my ancestors
fought for and won.

Kinland is my home. My smiles
are wider when at home. My laughs
are louder with my kin.

Never again to stray from home, never
to leave for war or jobs for money,
never to die away from Kinland, “never,
never” is now my motto; now a blind eye
to all else but the tales of my kin and from
my kin.

My thoughts are now for my kin. The kin
who came before me, those kin who gave of
themselves, so I could be; the kin who toiled
and sweat to bring the bread and found a
table the time for stories of the day and then
back the next day to the hay or hens or cows;
but never forget the coal.
The kin who found time for church and God, to
pray that future kin would be safe; the kin who
never forgot their kin, the same kin who I shall
not forget, never again, as now I am here in Kinland.
My thoughts drift unforgivingly to the coal mines
my kin dug into. The mines that gave the kin muscles
and strength to carry on; and then the deaths from
that coal, those coal bits only miners knew when
they coughed that cold from deep-depth which was
now into their lungs.
Those kin who prayed hard, so their kin who
followed would live in a land to pray free; the
kin who knew I could be whatever I wanted to
be. The kin who made me, me; I honor their
memories, for I am here now to follow in their
tracks and maybe, just maybe be as good a kin
as they were, here in Kinland.
Yes, here now, right next door to your Kinland. My
Kinland is where I belong as you should be with
your kin. Find your Kinland and learn from those
who came before you. Invest in your past for it
contains your future and is found in your Kinland.
Never rest until you and yours are with your kin.
Kinland is not just dirt. It beats as your heart beats.
The land you now will also call, Kinland.


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Reviewed by Asa Seeley
kinland, hmmm...the soil from which we so different for us all, inhabited by so many different 'things'...some very good, some very bad. i'll go there some day, but thanks for sharing

Reviewed by D.E.Z. Butler
I see Ronald that you identify with the word "kin". Our ancestors are important and I always want to give them the respect they deserve. This little poem is just my beginning to honor them.
Reviewed by Ronald Hull
I spent seven wonderful years in West Virginia. Living there builds character. My kin from Wisconsin and a pretty bland lot. My mother has been a major communicator for the family, and so have I. Unfortunately, most of the extended family only communicate to their immediate families, are working stiffs, and quite boring. It is only our ancestors are interesting and they are dying off quite quickly.

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Letters From the Earth: Faint Hopes and Lamentations by Lonnie Hicks

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