11.19.2003 :::
Learning Italian
I'd play a song, if you'd stay awake for just one more night.
I'd like to think she would, So good to see you.
It's been a long time. Stay awake, it's been so long.
We won't let him take you, that snake, in the fold.
What if there isn't a tomorrow. The sun will fall.
That won't happen, but it will shine in a different light.
For will it not be a different sun, if both our eyes don't see.
So please, my love, stay away,at least to hear my song.
It's go something along the lines of, hope and such.
Love will last, and it shall conquer all, but we'd smile,
And sing the chorus together, for a few bars, humming.
When you meet the sun, you can teach him the lyrics.
And he'll show you how to shine, though it won't be hard.
Not for you, not your smile, but that's awhile off now.
For now, just stay awake. Until the sun's break.
I'll whisper in your ear. For one more night. One more.
I miss you already, and you've not even left, or came.
I'll be here, just here, playing my goodbye song.
::: posted by Matthew at 8:37 PM
Dmeifsifnoirttiuonne
How simple and magnificent,
The symbols that read our minds.
They portray our ideas and feelings,
And the holy truth it finds.
We may search ancient texts,
Our friends, we don't gather words.
But ideas, for words are these,
Together with nature, stirred.
For now, what we judge together,
Are not bad symbols, but ideas,
For those indeed are plentiful,
Set to sail on ocean breezes.
::: posted by Matthew at 8:11 PM
11.17.2003 :::
Things She Said This Weekend
Come down from that ledge, now.
It's not worth the fall, Let's just
Say what we forgot.
I wish I could tell you,
That you're good in bed.
Or that I love your lips,
When they're red. They
Taste a special hint,
Or something, and that scent,
I wish it drove me crazy, and
Warmed my blood on a cold
Windy night. But I don't know,
I just don't know. Won't you
Tell me what I'm supposed to
Feel. Is that silk, or cotton.
Maybe you're not even
Wearing a coat, but said you
Were. The Mercury is rising in
The Thermo-Stare. Quit looking
At me, I don't have your answers.
I wish I did, but you took them.
And don't give me that He-man
Gaze. I don't think it works on me.
Fuck you, you're not here,
Why aren't you here,
Thanks for asking. I've missed him
Oh so long, a time. Now he's gone
Before he left, left, left.
He was right, right, right.
No he wasn't. He tried to tell me/her
That it was the truth. That he had
My ring. Wrong, wrong, wrong.
I don't know what this is about.
Not you, some bizarro you,
In a bizarro world. But if it means
I miss you, even though we're
Talking now, I guess that's
What it all means. Is it a poem?
Or a conversation, in and among myself
You'll have to tell, because I don't
Tell myself things anymore.
They never worked out with the
I Love You's and benefactors
All putting their stock in me, and
When I fell, so did their love,
And those things do not
Replenish quickly. But I'm
Glad we're okay, and glad
I can call you cute, because you
Are, in every way, for this
And this my dear, I laugh,
Because I am optmisitc.
::: posted by Matthew at 9:07 PM
11.04.2003 :::
The Sickness
5 of 15
They just laugh and point at the kid with one bad leg,
He's different, smaller, inferior, something odd.
Can't think of all the things he could teach,
The hopes and fears he could portray and smash,
They just laugh and point at the kid with one bad leg.
He isn't weak, just starts a little farther behind.
Not an evil wrecked body, riddled hopeless by his peers.
Shannon, a girl's name, a boy's mind, no good fit,
A random list of god's, has he played a trick?
This is nature, human, and imperfect. Changing.
A single day, one of hundreds, thousands,
We forget one can change them all. So does he.
He buys it from the street corner, because it shines,
More than the rest, and he heads to the school house
All because they pointed, now he has...
The sickness, it riddles her everyday, her love,
Shot down before his smile faded, looking happy.
Though it's not true, and she wants revenge.
Forgetting about what they put the boy through.
Only thinking of the cure, to her sickness.
She finds the tagged wall in the south, the place,
The selling of happiness, and even vengeance.
He'll have to pay for emotions unrestrained.
And the lover's fight will be unstained, again,
Because she's found the right man for the job.
He enters the cafeteria with a fist in hand,
Something more but he doesn't plan on it,
The using of the ultimate price, the sacrifice.
Too late, he sees the plot, and wheels around,
He unloads a scare, and the target's...
Missed the last time through, and it's true.
She lost her son due to folly, and now loses another.
It might be a son, or possibly a daughter,
She'll never know. Wainting outside the clinic.
A man holds her hand, though not her husband.
Have I deserved this she asks the sky, not the sky.
She know's she does, but fails to confess to him.
Him, the husband preist, who would forgive.
She cries because she lost her chance, only chance,
At motherhood. Because a tragedy. At home.
He tells her god doens't hurt good people,
But she knows this isn't god's doing, but below.
The mystic tool, or unravelling parodies, and frowns.
He tempted me with a test, and she did fail.
Now she can't escape this, the inevitable sickness.
::: posted by Matthew at 5:08 PM
Numb
1 of 15
It's at the door and cannot speak.
It knocks and knocks, you cannot hear.
You would come and it would run,
But you won't, it's not really there.
The child screams, because she can smell
The fear of things, that live so near.
Fingers curl, mobiles twist and turn,
Hypnotize the monster 'til morning.
It comes home, after last call,
Using the amplifiers to gain a roar,
Wakes the dogs and with his snore,
Calls the cops, unlocks the door.
They pull him off the golden chair,
Wait officer, there's something there,
A mother's head, a bizarre smile,
A daughter's scream, a red mile,
Streaks the house with domestic stress.
The baby's cry up the stairs,
A year too late, some taxi fares,
Too bad it's never there,
No it's never really there.
::: posted by Matthew at 3:52 PM
