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Mar 2021 · 769
Whole New Beast
Tyler Matthew Mar 2021
It is one thing to advocate for equality, representation, and unity.
Indeed, each is an inalienable, fundamental right.
But it is a whole new beast to lay waste
to anything that frightens you or that challenges your beliefs,
or that simply does not mirror your very own ideologies.
How heavy the hand of tyranny that now lays across our mouths,
yet how light our opposition.
Though I do acknowledge the delicacy of the issue at hand,
the fragility of the minds of hysterical mobs
who resolve to smashing windows in blind anger,
who ***** out free thought in daft castigation,
or who ban books even, it seems, like those monsters of history
to which they declare themselves to be diametrically opposed-
even in light of that, it is no excuse
to remain subservient to senseless autocrats
and the absurd legislations they bludgeon us with near daily.
To do this – to do nothing - is to lay down and die
without dignity, spineless and shameful,
though it seems that only myself and a handful of others
can recognize this.  Indeed, how easy it is to glimpse from the fringes.
I, a man of only twenty-seven years, do not recognize you, America.
I long for the days of comfort (so far removed from them, I am)
when I could safely retreat into the lofty and quiet halls of my mind
to enjoy a self-assuring thought that only I created -
a thought with no real purpose but to occupy me for a time,
to entertain me in my moments of dull apathy.
Now I shudder in a cold and contrived prison of vetted words
and unnegotiated mandates where I am told
to wrap myself in our flag to keep warm, to feel safe,
that this is for my own good.
I do not recognize you, America, for this thing you have become.
Feb 2021 · 242
I Never Wrote a Letter
Tyler Matthew Feb 2021
I left home when I was young
To the fringes I was flung
And I never wrote a letter
to my home, Lord, to my home
No, I never wrote a letter to my home

I set out for Tuscaloo’
Just my baby sister knew
She hung her head and handed me a dime

An’ it took me pretty far
I hopped on the next boxcar
I waved goodbye to her a final time

Not a coat upon my frame
nor a penny to my name
But I never wrote a letter to my home
to my home, Lord Lord,
No, I never wrote a letter to my home

I was settled on the track
A cold wind tried to ******* back
But I held on an’ swallowed all the pain

I stepped off in Alabam’
Boxcar door shut with a slam
And I tried to build a house there in the rain

If ya missed the train I’s on
Count the days that I been gone
You can hear that whistle blow a hundred miles
Hundred miles, hundred miles
You can hear that whistle blow a hundred miles


But when it rains it pours
When it’s done, there’s always more
And it’s hard to build a home out in a storm

My Papa warned me, “Son
you’ll be sorry when you’re gone”
I thought that he was bitter - now I know

I left home to chase the sun
But it moves faster than I run
Now I cry alone the end of ev’ry day
I can hear my Mama call
“stop your runnin’ ‘fore ya fall”
I don’t wanna go home, let me play

Not a penny on my name
ever since the bankers came
I got a letter on a lonesome day

Said “Your Mama’s dead an’ gone
and your sister’s all gone wrong.
Son I need you home now right away”

Not a coat upon my back
and I’m still livin’ on the tracks
No, Papa can’t see me thisaway
Thisaway, Lord ya know
that I can’t go home thisaway.

And if ya miss the train I'm on
count the days that I been gone
You can hear that whistle blow a thousand miles
Thousand miles, thousand miles, Lord
You can hear my whistle blow a thousand miles.
After Bob Dylan's "I Was Young When I Left Home."
Feb 2021 · 261
A New Face (A Fine Example)
Tyler Matthew Feb 2021
Go ahead and point your crooked fingers at me
I bet you’re dying just to get them inside
I know your nature, your sins, your reasons
A creature like you’s never satisfied

You pick a new face from the gallery
Practice everything you want me to hear
You’ll be anyone, say or do anything
then raise the blade when I let you get near

And when I’m bleeding for the world to see
you’ll tell them I was always dangerous
No doubt will linger, there’ll be no debate
and you’ll be praised for being generous

So go ahead and make a fine example of me
Frame me, hang me there on your wall
Rip and pull me apart, take hold of me
until I can’t be recognized at all
Jan 2021 · 630
Lullaby
Tyler Matthew Jan 2021
Within the blinking of an eye
we live our lives and then we die
with no time left to ponder why
A baby's breath, a tired sigh

We look back on how much we've grown
the loves we had, the threads we've sown
to find ourselves here all alone
with weary heads and hearts of stone

Fighting just to say goodbye
and when we do begin to cry
we sing ourselves a lullaby
and finally we shut our eyes
Jan 2021 · 1.7k
Dallas, November 1963
Tyler Matthew Jan 2021
Dallas, November 1963
Fifty-seven years since they shot Kennedy
Everyone saw then live on T.V.
what happens when you challenge
secret society

Some say the mob or the CIA
Either black or white, but the truth is gray
and long since buried 'neath Texas clay
right next to good ol' LBJ

I ask not what my country can do for me
Blood on her hands, Lady Liberty
Let sleeping dogs lie, leave history be
The truth died in Dallas, 1963
Tyler Matthew Jan 2021
I'm lying in the sun
I've got church bells in my ears
Even though work starts at nine
my mind is miles away from here

There upon its banks
I hear the river washing past
Some say everything's eternal
yet sleep never seems to last

Always waking in a hurry
Hardly any time to shave
And when the day is done
reflect on everything you gave
Realizing once again
there's never any time to save
And so I lie between
the river and the grave
Jan 2021 · 2.3k
Pork
Tyler Matthew Jan 2021
Eat it up while you can, pig!
Your future's looking grim.
Head down in a pig trough,
spilling at the brim.
Farmer stands with his shotgun.
That look is in his eye.
You're squealin' now like a loose wheel,
wishin' you could fly.
Running 'round in the pigsty.
**** stains on your pig chin.
Fear keepin' your eyes wide.
Crawlin' out of your pig skin.
Eat it all while you can, pig!
And don't forget to chew!
The dinner bell's a-ringin'
and we've got plans for you!
Inspired by "Pigs (Three Different Ones)" by Pink Floyd, from the album "Animals."
Jan 2021 · 281
First Dream
Tyler Matthew Jan 2021
Life is the continuous struggle
to preserve the first good
dream you ever had.
Quickwrite
Jan 2021 · 1.3k
Secret Fantasy (Fizzle)
Tyler Matthew Jan 2021
She was a pretty little girl with a jaded brain
and movie stars in her eyes
From a little town in northern Maine
where dreams fizzle out and die

She was looking for a Casablanca gent
to match her Ingrid Bergman looks
But all she found was me - her discontent!
Her face was like an open book

I paused to read and
she proceeded
to tell me that we had no chance
Before her mouth could shut
I jumped onto her tongue
and asked her if she'd like to dance

We waltzed into a secret fantasy
like our dreams were intertwined
She was blowing pink bubbles with her chewing gum
and it just about blew my mind

It wasn't long and we were lying on the floor
My shirt had come undone
For a workaday girl from a quiet town
she sure knew how to have her fun

Before I buttoned up
she handed me a cup
I drank and I asked for more
My head was swimming
like a salmon when
I watched her walking out my door
Jan 2021 · 149
Untitled Thought
Tyler Matthew Jan 2021
Break-up poems are to poetry
as pop music is to music.
The same four chords,
the same four words:
I'll never love again.
However, there is a difference between a good break-up poem and a bad one.
Jan 2021 · 193
Curio Cabinet
Tyler Matthew Jan 2021
Old friends, dead friends,
all lined up like porcelain dolls,
smiling behind ***** glass.
I wrap them in paper and lament.
Jan 2021 · 139
Low
Tyler Matthew Jan 2021
Low
When an egotist tosses money,
scattering it at your feet,
never stoop to collect it,
no matter how poor you may be.
Jan 2021 · 133
Messenger
Tyler Matthew Jan 2021
You whispered my name.
It carried with wind
and made it to my ear,
to my pillow was pinned.

Evenings forsaken
most nights I'm alone,
dragging my feet like
I'm tied to a stone.

Where have you been, love?
The knife turns and twists.
I long to discover
that you still exist.
Jan 2021 · 657
The Sun Through the Rain
Tyler Matthew Jan 2021
I watched you breathing,
your chest rise and fall.
These moments I'll cherish,
but I can't live them all.

We made a life of
both laughter and tears.
But the sun's finally shining,
the rain's starting to clear.
Written to the melody of "Wild Horses" by The Rolling Stones
Dec 2020 · 102
Untitled
Tyler Matthew Dec 2020
Another new year.
Whoop-de-do!
If I could, I'd blow
a big kazoo.
Yes, this year is over,
celebrate with your lover.
For me, it's just deja vu.
I'm only kidding, happy New Year, fellow humans.
Don't follow leaders, watch your parking meters.
Dec 2020 · 576
Out of Line
Tyler Matthew Dec 2020
If you are a man, but
we share no blood between us,
if you are a man, but
are no mentor of mine,
do not tell me how I've made you proud, for
I consider that to be out of line.
Tyler Matthew Dec 2020
I don't know about reincarnation
but after you died I saw
a little boy painting an elephant with his fingers
and I thought "there you are"
Tyler Matthew Dec 2020
The human ego is as soft and dirigible
as a child's balloon.
The pride of a poet is no different.
Criticize him and suddenly a hole spilling hot air,
watch him zoom about
deflated, adrift.
Please, can we stop bolstering poor work? Can we finally call a ***** a *****?
How are we to grow as poets (or as humans, for that matter) if we cannot give and accept criticism with grace and earnest appreciation?
If I write a bad poem, tell me, and I will try to improve.
I will do the same for you.
Let's have some respect for the art.
Dec 2020 · 91
It Is in Fact a Shame
Tyler Matthew Dec 2020
The desolation of artistic expression -
virtue signaling, mood pieces -
cheapens the message.
Daily I am deceived by what I read.
I thought not that I would struggle
finding comfort and truth in the house of poetry;
a house we all have had a hand in building.
Indeed, poetry is, at its foundation,
patient and playful, and honest
and yet, I find nothing more than disingenuity
creeping beneath the eaves,
pseudo-poets with no better avocations,
no real love for the craft.
It is a shame, in fact,
that one's concentration could be
so fixed upon the ego
that the heart lacks any good judgement.
Though, I suppose, every generation
has its fools, its phoneys.
Yes and even now, as I toil in my home,
persistent and earnest,
I can hear a window break,
see shingles strewn about the lawn.
Dec 2020 · 3.6k
She Likes It
Tyler Matthew Dec 2020
I always smack her *** when she is cooking -
her eyes tell me she likes it.
She says to everyone that she's a feminist.
Well, so am I, honey.
Tyler Matthew Dec 2020
Just as well that it ended, frankly.
Now you'll write poems about how
the world looks dark outside your window,
how black ink runs through blue veins
and you bleed it on every blank page.
I guess you're brave
to be so open.
I guess you're brave
to jump head-first into that abyss,
that hole in your heart.
It may be tough to hear, but
maybe your lover left because
they were tired of
"your eyes gleam like jewels in moonlight,"
how you "only long to hold them,"
how they "saved you from yourself."
Sometimes we just need to be ******
hard, primal, endlessly
when we get bored with making love.
Some things have been said too many times
to mean anything to us now.
Dec 2020 · 921
Orbit
Tyler Matthew Dec 2020
She glides through city blocks at noon
hair coming undone as she goes
I'm drunk from drinking her perfume
I wonder if she even knows

One thousand lovers gather in
beside her, pulling at her sleeve
but vanish when the tears begin
Not me, though, I will never leave
Dec 2020 · 80
Babel (Redux)
Tyler Matthew Dec 2020
we built a tower up to heaven
reaching up and out to Him
curious to what’s beyond
united in our purpose then

and was it wrong to search the sky?
to know the angels, brush their wings?
was it wrong to meditate?
to equate ourselves to kings?

and when He deemed we rose too high
He brought the tower to the ground
colored flesh and broke our tongues
with a hard hand held us down

and was it wrong to search the sky
with all those stars we looked upon?
to see the truths eluding us?
to know what heaven lies beyond?
The Lord said, "If as one people speaking the same language they have begun to do this, then nothing they plan to do will be impossible for them.  Come, let us go down and confuse their language so they will not understand each other."

Seems a tad oppressive for a god to act as such.
Dec 2020 · 557
Dream of Spring
Tyler Matthew Dec 2020
When ice and snow does winter bring
I close my eyes and dream of spring
when flowers blush, where Sun is king
and wake to hear a bluebird sing
Dec 2020 · 101
Many Different Ways
Tyler Matthew Dec 2020
Bedroom, her movements so arcane
with sparks that waltz across her face.
She won't be coming back today;
she loves in many different ways.
Dec 2020 · 102
Just Like Rain
Tyler Matthew Dec 2020
I search the sky for aeroplanes.
Her picture on my windowpane;
love lost, a spark falls down the drain,
drips into my eyes just like rain.
Dec 2020 · 232
Aeroplanes
Tyler Matthew Dec 2020
The only thing that keeps me sane
is hoping I'll see you again.
Legs bound and move around a chain,
I search the sky for aeroplanes.
Inspired by Neutral Milk Hotel.
Dec 2020 · 624
America, It Must Be You
Tyler Matthew Dec 2020
America, is that you?
Your stars are looking dim.
Stripes look nice on prison clothes,
but yours are wearing thin.

America, is that you
there behind the mask?
Of course, I too, am wearing mine.
You don't need to ask.

America, is that you
angry in the street,
smashing windows, spreading fire?
And is your dream complete?

America, was it you
I saw on evening news
dancing like a circus monkey,
speaking as you're cued?

America, is that you
propped up by the wall
with little men surrounding you,
waiting for your fall?

America, use your voice
and let me know it's you.
I can't hear much over the noise
that's coming from the zoo.

America, it must be you,
though I can hardly see.
I'm feeling for you in the dark.
America, it's me.
Dec 2020 · 104
Daughter of Peace
Tyler Matthew Dec 2020
O come to me daughter of peace
The songs you sing so soft and sweet
Your vision clear and near complete
Stand proud with open arms to greet
Dec 2020 · 95
Another Love Poem
Tyler Matthew Dec 2020
I tell myself
I'm never going to write another love poem,
but then I put pen to paper
and end up w/ a poem about how
you broke my ******* . . .
anyway, I guess I'm trying to say
there are more things to write about than you.
Quickwrite
Dec 2020 · 90
Untitled
Tyler Matthew Dec 2020
I'd like to get God and George Soros
in the same room for a while
and figure out what went wrong.
Neither one will respond to me.
Dec 2020 · 486
Mother Atom
Tyler Matthew Dec 2020
She was born in a mushroom cloud,
1945.
Uranium halo 'round her head
and stars inside her eyes.

They pulled her from her desert womb
and the whole world with her cried.
"The War is Over!" Peace at last!
Mother Atom had arrived.
Dec 2020 · 82
Born too Late
Tyler Matthew Dec 2020
I will never be as cool as Bob Dylan,
and neither will you
(don't try).
Quickwrite
Dec 2020 · 80
Untitled
Tyler Matthew Dec 2020
we used to argue like children about
who loved who first
as if it mattered

how did I come to love you?

now that is where the story gets good
Quickwrite
Tyler Matthew Dec 2020
The longer time flows on,
the more diluted words become.
What was "love" to our grandfathers
is now "****" to ourselves.
"**** love" is what I mean to say,
but that would be redundant.
Quickwrite.
Dec 2020 · 75
Untitled
Tyler Matthew Dec 2020
God is dead.
That feeling you get
when you kneel by the bed -
nothing more than a wish
rolling 'round in your head.

Breaking bread.
The silly things that we do
after our prayers are said.
Idols we've chosen
to stand in his stead.
Quickwrite. I respect your beliefs, but choose to disagree. Nothing more, nothing less.
Dec 2020 · 570
god and the president
Tyler Matthew Dec 2020
No poem of mine will ever make me famous,
     especially not the ones about
god and the president.
Maybe this is for the best;
     you've seen what fame has done to
god and the president.
quickwrite
Dec 2020 · 479
A Flash in the Pan
Tyler Matthew Dec 2020
So much for the destiny of man,
the potential of our youthful imaginings.
No more has it been than a carrot on a string,
a flash in the pan,
a ******* that's kept us afloat
on a sea of dreadful sleep.
And in waking, a feeling,
a dim sense of purpose laid out for us
like another warm blanket to wrap in,
to cover our eyes long enough
for that familiar vision of tragedy
to come and feed our fantasies again.
Dec 2020 · 72
Untitled
Tyler Matthew Dec 2020
As above, so below.
In the end, where you go
all depends on who you know.
quickwrite
Dec 2020 · 83
Untitled
Tyler Matthew Dec 2020
One million angels
come to carry me away.
One million angels
and still I wouldn't leave.
One million angels
who ask me not to stay.
One million angels
whose gifts I won't receive.
quickwrite
Dec 2020 · 79
rare bird
Tyler Matthew Dec 2020
a loneliness surrounds her heart
her bridges twist and fall apart
green eyes cry wide beneath a sky
that's both too blue and far too high
her friends walk by without a word
to catch a glimpse of this rare bird
who only wished to leave her nest
sing all the love out from her chest
now her heart's crammed into a jar
the world looks better form afar
Dec 2020 · 100
Ataraxia
Tyler Matthew Dec 2020
There is a
tenuous beauty
in apocalypse, I imagine.
Dec 2020 · 466
Million Little Suns
Tyler Matthew Dec 2020
A whole world laid out beneath you
like a mother's arms,
you stood in infancy facing the stars,
and I remember thinking as I watched you
that I shouldn't speak,
that those million little suns
will teach you everything you need.
Dec 2020 · 466
Flower Girl
Tyler Matthew Dec 2020
A girl was selling flowers,
white orchids she had clipped.
I found them rather lovely
and placed one on your crypt.

Like a bygone love, it wilted.
Its petals dried and fell.
You're long gone, I know,
but I hope you're doing well.
Dec 2020 · 94
The Change
Tyler Matthew Dec 2020
Today I watched an eagle fly into the sun,
swallowed by a sea of yellow and red.
It's feathers caught light and burned and
fell from the sky above my head.

Down they drifted to my feet,
twisting like a lovely flaming helix.
And when, through the smoke, I squinted my eyes,
I thought I saw a phoenix.
Dec 2020 · 112
Someone Else's Poem
Tyler Matthew Dec 2020
When our page was white and empty
words came easy, I was smitten.
But now you're someone else's poem
and a line I wish I'd written.
Dec 2020 · 70
I Saw Her
Tyler Matthew Dec 2020
I saw her pluck a strand
of golden light out from the air
and tie it to her wrist
like a chain so fine and fair.
She danced then like a child
caring not if I might stare.
I saw her and nothing can compare.
Dec 2020 · 100
Sunflowers Tall as the Sky
Tyler Matthew Dec 2020
In my dreams
you run to me wildy, laughing
amid sunflowers tall as the sky.

In my dreams
we talk for hours letting the night
crawl past the window.

In my dreams
we are never uncertain and
all we have been is lovers.

In my dreams
your love didn't die.
Dec 2020 · 92
Chicken Farm
Tyler Matthew Dec 2020
They want us with our heads down,
hands tied, eyes closed.
They want us right where we are now,
their boots pressed to our throats.

Give until it starts to hurt.
Give until you like it.
Give until your coffin's built
and you gladly crawl inside it.
Dec 2020 · 108
Still Life with Burnout
Tyler Matthew Dec 2020
Lavender candles and dopesmoke evenings.
Quiet enough to enjoy,
not so quiet as to shatter my high.
I light another joint and begin to read your poems.
I still don't understand, really,
but I never expect to.
When I'm done I fall into the mirror.
It breaks, cuts my finger.
My own blood runs.
This I can relate to.
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