bedridden, broken, nothing to look at
it's been this way since she was left
to her own demise long ago
one step ahead, i suppose,
of me and my loneliness, though i don't feel lonely—it's been so long since i've
felt the initial pain of abandonment
now i am laid down, watching the sun rise
and fall in the corner of my eye
i can't say i have it too bad, because here
i have my books and my ink and my paper
i have the dreams i sleep with, i have the nightmares i sometimes wake up from,
and always the nightmare that i awake to
my body is useless, no one to see or feel
no children to embrace, no daughters to
be overprotective with, no sons to go see
win baseball games, no wife to cherish and occasionally argue with over bills and payments and bullshit only to sleep comfortably when night fell, no one to put my arm around, no hand to hold, no one to laugh hysterically and mourn deeply with
but i am safe from the world
outside my window
safe from heartbreak or getting fired
or disappointing my parents
safe from the awkward situations we are
put in like saying "you too" when a waitress says "enjoy your food"
safe from being human or feeling human
i am inanimate, and that is okay
it's not a terrible way to live, actually
the blood that once was free flowing
that danced deep in my stomach
to the beat of my heart's drum
has become stagnant and crusted over
making it hard for me to do anything
but slowly learn to die; what a way to live
I try not to resent over
the failure of
unpeeling the little layers of myself
the sightly, delicate wicked ones
that you’ve kept so guarded
to salve the belongings
among all the other broken things
before you took off your skin that settles
in your room closet
sounds rather sufficing enough
than to let this almost heart slip backward
wrapped in the demon’s breath
I heard you were hurting.
I heard your mom and dad
Stopped loving each other,
And the distance between them
I want to say:
I’m sorry the pain is making you sick,
I’m sorry you feel hopeless,
I’m sorry you have to hide it.
You don’t know me,
And you may not care to;
You’d probably find it strange
That I sit here at night
Writing poems about you.
But I wish for you to be happy,
And I wish to help,
Although all I can do
Is sit here, and dream
That one day,
I’ll wrap my arms around you,
And show you the love
Your parents never have.
So until that day
(If it ever comes),
I’ll sit here every night
Writing poems about you.
I like my simple way of writing
It represents who I am
And who I sometimes want to be
I like the way I think, I’ve found a certain freedom in it
But that freedom exists nowhere else
Not in any organ nor sinew nor bone
Django is a free slave.
Too long I’ve been feeling like a trail gone cold
Pull me by the back of my throat, rest in the bed of my bones
And call me home
Because I’m lost, and maybe I just want to be found.
I saw his honesty
slowly spilling through his eyes
and for once,
I’ve never looked at him with such
burning, desirous grip
was simply throbbing away with adieu’s
that’s never been had before
and that has been
the most fidgety, reckless thing
this almost heart
could adapt to right after
I walk by the glow of lonely street lights
Retracing your footsteps , wondering where you've gone
You always wanted to get lost in unfamiliar cities
Did you lose your way back home ?
The chatter of strangers deafening me , voices of a thousand people (but none of them yours)
Did you get lost in the sea of lost souls ?
And lights always glimmered in your eyes
Did the city draw you in ?
They seem brighter than ever blinding me
This hollow town a painful reminder that you've gone.
I left this almost heart
in the cab we took
the last time it fell asleep in your arms
maybe, someday it'd wake up,
a little less sullied from crumbs of leftovers
in the back seat
meet on the high streets
unshaken by the cool, biting breeze
without having little creeps over what's been
held under our fingertips
through these obvious flaws and
watch the softest parts of us
The Silver Glaze of Speed
or Memory Sped
While passing along a shiny strip made by the street glamour of cars, moving to the rhythms of wishes fashioning a most coveted secret.
I am content with an inner radiance showing her off in my thoughts. Down here the lights are an old girlfriend that remembered I like the flirting backbone of highways…
© Matthew Goff
You'll be home soon while I continue to languor in orbit and disappoint myself and perhaps you. As we both go after what we want miles away from each other. Related tho. We are somehow related to each other just like my cousin Chris. I forgot what I promised Chris or if there ever was a promise. Tell him that he's amazing.
I remember when one of his luggages was sprawled on floor of the room he stayed in while he was here. He was folding the clothes he washed that day, and in a blink of an eye there was a pile of folded clothes. He said it used to be his job to fold clothes. How he filled my heart with pride.
Pride. We were drinking in a club one night, one of the cheap clubs in the heart of the city. We were binge-dancing, and he held my hand as we both drunk smiled at each other. And then we looked at the crowd.
He was leaning on me as we were going home, like an airplane on a slant.
For I reckon his plane was on a slant when it landed one February night - as I welcomed him after fifteen years of being away and disconnected from each other, like something was hanging in the air. The eye contact. And just like one of the Coldplay songs, there was a rush of blood to the head. But it flows. All over.
And as blood is thicker than water, tell Chris how much I care about him. More years of disconnection and distance from each other has no connotation. Tell him not to drop something important as he goes to wherever and forget how or when he lost it. Let him drop things when he is aware.
Ps. For days I thought I was progressing when he was still here, like I was on my way to somewhere only we know.
When you went away that sunny morning, I knew that you have led me to the zone between nature and reality. I know you had it for me - a mahogany jackwood lotion, and I could almost smell it. But where is it?