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Tyler Matthew Feb 2018
I thought I could be eternal,
like air or sound or memory,
that I would be a ghost
in your attic forever.
I thought you would keep me,
or be kept by me,
find joy in my movements,
love in my breath.
But you moved away,
suddenly without word or gesture,
left me standing on the floor
in your house, now mine.
You took my place and I yours.
This was supposed to be simple, clean.
And so you became air,
sound, memory, nothing at all.
Eternal.
Quick write
Tyler Matthew Feb 2018
The long hands of mem’ry are strangling my mind,
reachin’ out past the face to which my love was assigned.
When I go out in the evening to see what it is I can find
I’m haunted by the things we said.

When morning light lies beside me in my bed
I’ve got to turn myself over and shake out my head
because the whole scene reminds me of the day we wed
and of the life from which we resigned.

Like a sharp shaft of glass, we tore through the years,
only to end drowning in each other’s tears.
But the past’s so much closer than it appears,
and if you look too long you’ll go mad.

To say I never loved you’s to fall in line with a fad.
But to ignore what I feel now is just more weight I can’t add.
So I look down at the ashes, dust off what we had,
and stifle my rising fears.
  Feb 2018 Tyler Matthew
Pagan Paul
.
Walk toward the North,
your foot falls on solid Earth,
be sure of your way.

Fly away off East,
you are floating on the Air,
be sure of your wings.

Take a trip down South,
you are playing with Fire,
be sure of your skills.

Swim far to the West,
the sun sets over calm Water,
be sure of your flow.

Stand within Yourself,
connect the inner Spirit,
be sure of all things.


© Pagan Paul (20/02/18)
.
Tyler Matthew Feb 2018
America, I am told, was once a gleaming jewel
cut and polished by men with ***** hands
and set in a western crown worn by Lady Liberty.

America, I hear, had hills full of gold
and rivers full of wishes and they always flooded
and watered the land and made things grow tall and strong.

I heard in a song once that this land was made for you and me,
that America was a place of possibility, prosperity,
and that I can follow my footsteps to find my way home.

Home. Home of the brave. Home of justice,
freedom, faith. Home of color, of pride, and opportunity.
Home of We the People and unity.

But I have never known this America,
and this America has not known me.

America has turned its back to those
who broke theirs in trying to lift her.
America has held the whip for far too long.

America has pulled the plug and
now the drain is clogged with the dying.
America is deaf to their dying songs.

America has told us that
we are right where we belong, but oh,
how she couldn’t be more wrong.
Tyler Matthew Jan 2018
Looking out across a sea of green,
wond'ring where you are
and where you've been.
You should really see this view,
and the tea is set for two.
Where are you?

Is the sun just in my eyes,
or is this real?
Slowly turns the day upon its wheel.
My hope, I fear, will fade
like the light into the shade.
And so I pray:

Please,
won't you come back home to me?
Won't you please?
Set my weary mind at ease.
Is that you
I see moving through the trees,
or just another
cold and lonely breeze?

Looking out across a sea of green,
wond'ring what we are
and what we'll be.
O, how I wish I knew.
It would help me to get through.
Where are you?
Tyler Matthew Dec 2017
Dangle it before my eyes.
Hypnotize this eager boy.
Beauty is your best disguise;
the lovely gal from Illinois.
Quick write
Tyler Matthew Dec 2017
The drunk on the curb,
beneath tonight's new throw
of stars,
breaks his back in asking for
a bride who will pretend.
Yet, no one will say yes to him,
and so he goes unto the river
and sleeps beside a rock,
the diamond-spangled night
to fall upon him
as he shudders.
Quick write
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