Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
matt nobrains Jul 2015
in it i have the twist and ****
that falls upon beer caps
and ragged desert fur
that sops up dicotomies,
bathe or dont, fleas or lice,
leaves on battered tarmac
corn that drags its venomous
fangs bare
clogged shitshown *** heathen
explosions decimating wakes
flown over with brutal
stoves; unreckoned
i havent cleaned out my ears in weeks
and its beginning to affect my
hearing.
fast through curves meeting
the brush
glad at the sink
twin teeth buried beneath
long
Jul 2015 · 615
underover
matt nobrains Jul 2015
in the height and heather
warmly brushing against
make and muddle
omens speak unerringly
in the voices
between mind and nobody.
lost in the sense of death hand
or forgotten in sensing of collapsed
landscape
burning blindness dots horizons
scan sharp
charged into faithless
trampled wordless
left behind and struck
upon else and whether
when little is borne
upon tangential lines.
a hundred brands
of pillow soft
toilet paper spread evenly
across tobacco leaves
like decorative mantras
on the scarred face of christ.
bliss is upon those who can
give up quietly
Jul 2014 · 666
make/shade
matt nobrains Jul 2014
ready when the pain subsides
drunk on seagrass and
stains imedded in the
contours of your brain:
50% gelatin 50% bacteria
paper and pen or clear glass
to cast words which flow
faster than matter can keep
up-the buffalo careening mad
over the cliff to oblivion
of lost thread
let sink your mistakes
open up your chest
and let green rain drown you
whole
only the stop of-you-can
display that inner jewel,
and your inner jewel shines
ever so bright
that with it, if you let it,
will guide your way
Jun 2014 · 383
anarquista
matt nobrains Jun 2014
"I think about these moments
everyday," she breathed
into my neck,
running one finger up
and down my arm
stripping bare an
electric wire,
short circuiting
my skin
"fifteen,  twenty times a day
and my knees buckle."

your love is pure,
unaltered with self interest,
it is passionate
unconceited.

but your love is also thoughtful
and direct.
you are strong
your strength inspires me
to find my own strength,
to fill myself with my own love,
so that together we
can share the best of ourselves.

with the embers of our souls
we'll start the flames that engulf
the world.
matt nobrains Jun 2014
the explorer of mountains dazed
mindless at the first glimpse
of primal space.
viceral worlds, diamond marshes
orbiting decaying stars.
the earth is nothing from here,
crags of tibet even less still.
could it be that
I never truly saw
what lay beyond the horizon?
now.
Jun 2014 · 623
in between
matt nobrains Jun 2014
breath trickle
through skin;
gathers in the wheat
gained: shared of shape
  under cool stones
overturned
the dragging
  of cubes
bombastic nether
drenched glass,
there padded earth black
in nutrient
bristling small pines
ruffle quiet
shaken in their roots
from the mighty wait
nothing but the glaciers
nothing but shade
nothing but ebb,
nothing but desert of
water,
sup of binding energy twitch matter
'perhaps perhaps'
cry the cubes
in the thrumming gentleness
  crystalized automated
pure white light.
yes, to me
in such bath as this
the clamor of man silenced
and I can hear the hum of
the planets sliding along
alien planes
and a laugh plays
forth
e;
from me?
Jun 2014 · 768
what now, gutter punk?
matt nobrains Jun 2014
sometimes I forget to breathe
when I think of her,
perhaps because the long unused
parts of my guts heart head
have forgotten what to do with
these sensations.
sitting, laughing quietly at ourselves,
at the absurd yet comfortable silence
that fills the air
as we, stunned, curious,
satisfy in simply breathing
the same air.
I stare at the tobacco stains
on my fingers
and imagine your kind, honest
smile in the dark.
i call myself a poet,
but the words shrink from my grasp
and settle somewhere, kindling.
matt nobrains Jun 2014
it's the smallest voices that scream the loudest
I've never been a fan of the trending hero
or the underground superstar.
slam poets make me sick.
your attitude is a well concocted ploy
to touch indie hearts and
I hate it.
I love the ignored
the militants
the trashman painter,
the gas station attendent that
makes ****** artcore ******
in her boyfriend's garage
the sixteen y.o. with a tape recorders
and a circuitbent casio
howling blood into an old
speakercummicrophone
slash and burn
leave your best work sitting
on a park bench for me
ignore the plight and shove
your fingers down your throat.
I love the broken. the hurt.
the misanthropes the schizoids
**** victims
homeless
suicidal
single mothers
drug addicts
if that fire is in your shattered
legs reflecting the age of
a
billion dead scaffolds
soul of revolution raging
knife in paw
I will fall in love with you
and sigh at the detrious
in your wake.
let me see you naked and crying
my own wounds fester quiet
when everyone else is asleep.
have a drink,
you earned it.
Jun 2014 · 353
why can't I also
matt nobrains Jun 2014
you can **** any time and
any place you want.
I don't need money or stability
to survive.
the global flakes of atrophy
and the dead stink of
routing fish clinging right on
human animals secures
me in antigrowth.
I am a bee or a *****
the auburn eye
scatters empty
and I miss the smell
of your **** on me
Jun 2014 · 386
if it sees you see
matt nobrains Jun 2014
"that's a difficult question," she said,  "thus the answer will be difficult. for both of us. it isn't a matter of loving or not loving. does the sun love the tree? assuredly, the tree needs the sun, but does it love it? without the sun the tree would die, but without the tree the sun would continue shining. continue pulling satellites around it,  continue burning.
someday the sun well begin the process of dying. it will switch from fusing hydrogen for fuel to fusing helium. it will expand. it will enter its red giant phase. it will grow so large that it will envelop and vaporize the earth, tree and all.
so does the tree love the sun?"
I didn't know what to say. after staring into my eyes for a moment she walked off. it was so strange. dreamlike. I had never met that woman before. now she was gone.
Jun 2014 · 423
first head at dawn
matt nobrains Jun 2014
torn out ripped up pulled apart
pried open crapped in
it's beautiful how the people
grow up like weeds
brainless mindless
some weeds are prettier or
more useful than others,
I'm probably one of the uglier
less useful dandelions.
I can't lead the battle charge let
some other starry eyed poet with
his face on the college paper
and dozens of limp boring
verses dazzle the illiterate
and academic alike.
id rather feed the cats or water
the plants drink beer and
hassle my neighbors
or lay in a parkinglot letting
the hot pavement cook my skin
or sit in my room amongst
perfect still aloneness.
for the last week I've been having
this recurring dream of a beautiful
woman ******* me in the *** with
a strap-on screaming about what
a piece of useless trash I am
blowing in the wind and how I
should **** myself.
she's completely naked except for
6in heels and bright red lipstick.
I can't begin to tell you how incredibly
hard I am when I wake up.
then I drink coffee on the porch
smoking
and stare at the world with
a tempered disinterest
thinking about the pros and
cons of skipping breakfast
Jun 2014 · 1.8k
don't mind baphomet
matt nobrains Jun 2014
this is a poem about happiness.
this is also a poem about how great life is, see? here's a metaphor
comparing nature to the faultless
form of a pedastalized lover,
here's a description of the
effect of changes in air pressure
and localized temperature
fluctuations
on physical matter in a given area.
here's a bland truism that
anybody can relate to.
here's a couple rhyming stanzas
about the ethereal shifting of
connecting threads which
cause all life to dance upon
the cosmic stage like food poisoned marionettes.
here's an ode to the wrinkles of
my ******* and
the bits of fuzz that occasionally
find their home in my *****.
here's a sonette to the drop outs
doing better than me
here's a dirge for the businessman
that hangs himself
and a jubilee for his widow
who earns nothing off his death
because he left his entire estate
to his catamite.
I'm writing a symphony in color,
notes of fermenting wood
dogshit and coffin dust.
the violas swoop and drone
the piccolos trill fast enough
to excise your gastrointestinal system
the barotone sax wheezes
and the timpani drum rumbles
(the flutes sit motionless because
**** flutes)
the pianists fingers are bleeding
hes banging with stumps now
his face contorted in ecstatic glee
as if the face of god has parted
the clouds just to scrape his gums
clean with his dietous ****.
and lo faint is the whisper
which climbs and slithers
between the
false,
bash upon life with both hands.
here is life here is death
let me show your life
let me breathe your wretching
like squandered
like roots in the soil,
paint your everlasting cave drawing
in the face of your kitchen
and dance around a fire
let the embers lick your heels
til pagan viciousness overtakes
your quivering form.
gasp it in
Jun 2014 · 2.9k
pitch cactus
matt nobrains Jun 2014
I havent had a good shower
in a week.
or washed my ****-reeking
clothes in
three. the electricity
and gas are shut off.
there's no beer or *** but
I don't think the cats have noticed.
mid June and it's already starting
to push 90.
before long the water will evaporate
right out of your bathtub,
taking you and half the house
with it.
sleep is dreamless, just a quick cut-
to an unwakeful day.
all my time energy and money
spent working a job i dont
give two ***** about
(maybe 0.7 *****)
or helping others.
I haven't gotten a **** in months.
if this is the path to enlightenment
you can take nirvana
and shove it up your ***.
Jun 2014 · 251
skalp
matt nobrains Jun 2014
you
are the
quite whisper.
sad to say the
world too
rough
some go under
some never came up
when the current swells
to pull us down. the
black water meets stale
sky in one unbroken sheet.
the pain that rises and
swells in you also
swells in me
or so I'd like to
think. some band
if roving dogs could
rip me to shreds
but before
gulls feast on
my eyes I'd certainly
hope some
little verse
could make
it worth it
in the end.
the sea th
en returns
no thing.
May 2014 · 791
accident
matt nobrains May 2014
the soil is baked hard and crusty,
I dig in my toes but barely manage
to scrape it.  a dry wind
like hot breath scours,
soaking into every fingerprint formed
in the landscape.
I stand on a rock face some hundred feet
above it, the arrid plain featureless
allowing the eye to see endlessly
til the edge of the planet rolls off
into the horizon. the sky
like a sentinal with stone clouds
moving quickly, pounding their way
along the glittering dome.
for a moment one obscures the
sun and I am bathed in
shadows, the edges of which
like torn paper against
a bare lightbulb: blinding.
I scream and my voice is absorbed
by the dirt and rocks and smal
tufts of wild grass which crinkle
dry: the sound is hollow and
seems to burst from somewhere
that isnt me.
here ambition is meaningless
and humanity is dead ear
and I am nothing and
so are you.
May 2014 · 1.1k
fawn
matt nobrains May 2014
you park with the windows
rolled down for a kiss
that doesn't come,
and now you're pressed up
against him with his chin on your shoulder.
painfully hart crane knew
what day it was,
but I'll never look at the
calendar.
its better,
the gulls would just get sick
the old folks in power scooters
cant handle much more than
a jigsaw.
if I were to choose how
I die I'd want it to
be hungover and by the
hands of a silverback.
May 2014 · 530
psistin p.2
matt nobrains May 2014
123456789
68747889392020292
92829299988888888
because that's how numbers
work.
I was back at my job
standing in the toy section
for little girls
there was this label
for a disney princess toy
it was labelled
"SPECIAL ***.
DP
$19.99"
and I had this rock hard
******* thinking about
*******.
***** that triple.
every hole oh my god.
right they're between the legos
and hello kitty.
there was a splash and I
awoke. the nurse was standing
in front of me with
a
bucket in her hand.
the mask was off now and
I could see that her head was
completely shaved balled.
both eyes were replaced with
cybernetic lenses, looking
like unblinking insect eyes.
I couldn't feel my arms or
legs.
-that's because we took them
she said
took them?
-yeah. cut them off. they're hanging over there. she pointed
and there they were speared
on meat hooks dangling
from the ceiling like dried
flowers.
I looked at my new stumps
they were patched at the
ends with stemcell bandages
looking like a cross between hamburger
and peat moss.
why would you do that?
-it was part of the procedure. she
didn't think you needed them
anymore
she?
-dalia.
my girlfriend.
oh my god im going to ******* puke
-not possible. we took out your stomach too.
WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?
-a girl's gotta work aye?
she flipped the bucket over
and sat down in it, crossing her legs high. she smiled, without
showing teeth. a big smile like she
was barely containing a laugh.
combined with the lenses
the effect was that of
a praying mantis preparing
to take down a sparrow.
May 2014 · 329
psistin p.1
matt nobrains May 2014
for her birthday I bought her
a lawn chair
for my bitthday
she chucked my guitar
out the window.
she bought ad space
on a dating site
proclaiming I'm a cheating
*****,
so I poured hot coffee
on my head and walked into
traffic high on quaaludes.
I woke up strapped to a gurney
with this **** nurse in
a
rubber nixon mask
******* spilling out
of her candy stripe
she was installing this
metal cockroach in the
side of my skull.
my first thought was a little Steve Ignorant in the middle of a conceptual framework for the same time to get the best of all the time to go to a few days I have a lot of
my second thought was 'that's
not proper medical attire'
my third thought was
OH MY GOD I'M NOT SURE IF I CAN BE ONLY ONE MILLION YEARS AGO AND IN THE GREATEST BAND OF ALL THE GREATEST HITS FROM YOUR PRIVILEGE TO WORSHIP WHAT IS SHE DOING TO MY HEAD
but it came out like a stifled
squeak.
then I passed back out for a few. I dreamt
someone bent over me, 69 style,
******* on me
while simultaneously *******
all over my chin neck and chest
it smelled like the jungles
of a dead planet
I couldnt move anything but my head.
and in the corner there was a fat man eating raw chicken and staring
May 2014 · 385
i/o
matt nobrains May 2014
i/o
write for myself, for the spaces
between my atoms,
for the spaces between a caress
for the absence and longing,
when a woman, as women are prone,
eventually vaporize and leave you with
a few articles of forgotten clothing and
other detritus, almost purposefully,
so that you find it Weeks or months later.
I write for the days with no beer,
for the nights with too much beer.
I write when there isn't enough to eat
as if i've can satiate themselves with charred
thoughts
or aching soul soup.
I write for you, too, as I write for myself,
which ever you may see it,
whichever eye may brush these rushed errors

(green, brown, blue)
it is yours as it is mine,
just as you are me
entwined in this plane, in this planet together,
like lovers in the sheets
momentarily inoperable.
May 2014 · 2.0k
skull
matt nobrains May 2014
befitting of laurels,
saint of the mountains, usher
of calm winds.
befitting of apocalypse but less than
apocrypha,
stepping between fish, guiding all
to bliss and sleep,
as the one who exist only in
eclipse, pushing tides that sink ships.
basements and quarries quietly mutter your
name, unsure of what comes next,
they who live between life, tombstone
your makes
fleeing your breath
child your touch
unknown your thoughts
May 2014 · 444
e
matt nobrains May 2014
e
you are the triprych,
the eternal extrapolation
of an ethereal concept,
the masterwork of the heavens
twisting perfection
from tier infinite chaos
of infinite space, drawing
wisdom and breath from the soul of
the uncreator.
May 2014 · 359
since loom
matt nobrains May 2014
can't catch a break on
the curb of a well, casting your
laughter down to jar the
roots of the earth. feign bleak
or black,
with green screen skin which casts
//
projection(a moth in the woods)
or less your hand flicks like
a spider mounting the ***** of
a pin.
convex and all more convoluted;
shapes in the pale darkness
which ebb from view upon sight,
little insects which scurry into
holes when a rock is lifted.
a warm gust carries over the
glass, ruffling
lace and
water.
matt nobrains May 2014
it's a fact in the course of things,
like iodine in dried seaweed.
men in nicely pressed collard
shirts pick up their kids from school,
watching a lover clip their toe nails.
it's a fact in the course of things,
the sparrows building their nest
the city reeks of dust and
mouths agape we breathe in
the ashes of effigies.
text not sent,
calls not made,
faith in the faithless.
it's a fact in the course of things,
like a stone ground to dust by
a waterfall,
I am too ground to dust
by the column of air
which holds up the sky.
a drifter in malaysia smokes a
cigarette he found on the ground.
the dead girl ******* on video.
right in the palm of your hand
the world is made or broken in
your intestines,
it's a fact in the course of things,
your lost thoughts pool in a
pit somewhere until it's full,
and then you can swim across.
I'll never have children.
May 2014 · 434
safe to say
matt nobrains May 2014
I'm a dulled edge,
getting dressed, put on your shoes
and sit on the couch, waiting
for the love of your life to come
walking in through the door, singing.
but she doesnt come,
fate stood you up.
no smiling face to greet you,
no reason to get up, to bathe,
to leave the house,  to cook,
to get angry, to feel anything.
the nights are long and full
of drinking with whoever can pass a
bottle. beer. wine. pouring *****
in the wine. blowing half your check
at the bar one night,  and the
other half the next.
and I keep thinking 'where's she at?'
today I woke up early,
took out the trash,  smoked a cigarette
watched the sun rise for a while,
turned on the radio, they were
playing Rachmaninoff, turned the
radio back off.
let the cat chew on my beard for
a while.
I've done just about everything,
what else is there?
so I drive to the store. grabbed
a little basket and put in
soap, two apples, an onion,
buy the wrong kind of cornmeal.
some kale and mushrooms.
instinctively buy some things the
last one liked (I'm terrified I'll never
be able to break that habit).
drive home put down the bags.
start taking out the contents and
looking at them,
placing them methodically on the
table crowded with paper and
***** dishes and crumpled
beer cans
and I stare at the sink
full of the same
and then I look at the
floor covered in garbage
and finally to the kale in
my hand.
"my god," I said to the kale "this
is how suicides happen."
I put it down, smoke
another cigarette and watch
the tree growing in the
courtyard. it'll be here after I'm
dead, one of the ugly stains
left in my wake.
May 2014 · 349
your touch like sabers
matt nobrains May 2014
hopefully, hopefully,
Your waste builds life
your waste is
an excess of love.
I mark the river
and no
face could
make such town,
trickle this in
misanthropy.
its its its
matt nobrains May 2014
the odious and onerous qualms
I have to sleep in,
everybody's getting
married because they have nothing
better to do
or they think it'll fix their
brokenness,
I just want a ******* behind
a mall dumpster
I want roadhead going eighty
on the way to louisiana
I'm halfway with bourbon
sweats and the crank
smells virginal like young nun ****.
it's funny in that.
the weeds in sunset rains
raids of storm clouds in
mild December
******* pressed firmly against
the vista panes painted
in some somber hues
and we pant quietly
to listen to the spatter of
rain, ******* slow to the
rhythm of the swaying trees,
you draw a peace sign languidly in the fog from
your breath,
and as you come the storm
breaks
and as I come I pull out and *******
on your ***.
everybody's getting married
and having kids like
the ice caps aren't melting
like the jungles aren't burning
like the rich oil barons
aren't playing hopscotch
on our ****.
the idiots.
I admire smokers,
I won't be around when I'm
that bored
May 2014 · 813
shaved collaborator
matt nobrains May 2014
I threw the backpack down
shattering the 13$ jug of wine
I lifted it and saw all my precious lifeblood
oozing out the bottom.
pouting down
two blocks like a child before
pouring the clot of broken
glass is the street.
bad relationship.
put my fist into a metal
sign, ripping up my arm
dropped my wallet losing
100$ to the gods of failure,
dropped a bag of beer causing
one to rupture and spray all over the apartment.
when I find a piano I clang
on the keys til everybody has
a migraine, myself included.
it's a light form of
sadomasochism.
I do the same thing with
women,
and they prove to be better
players.
slipping around in sheets
with somebody else
a sultry look on your
face like a saxophone solo.
light a cigarette and immediately
break it
drop my new phone in a cup
of wine
rip somebody's door of its
hinges.
meditation is foreplay of life
you gotta lick the ****
be the last one with
your shirt off
last one to the finish line
the last to fall asleep
the first to wake on
the 76th hangover this year
so far
so long
too bad
who cares
eat my ***** while I
shove a ******* in my ***
like the queen of France on
a ******.
you can lead a camel to
water but the **** thing
still can't play an
oboe for ****.
satan sold me a *** music
box
so if you see him tell
him I got pictures his wife
******* my **** in tumblr
May 2014 · 853
I can handle my drugs
matt nobrains May 2014
a store near my house
has 75c energy drinks,
if I cant find adderall
I'll get geeked on seashells.
if I cant get god ill
get blown by buddha.
if I cant get the forest
I'll settle on some pure
white orange ****
it crawls makes steams
dreams shakes eats
sees sights you could
never reproduce
in the books they say it's
the return,
I brace myself on
the table to come hard
Sep 2013 · 576
opus
matt nobrains Sep 2013
Terror sought in the faintest smell of blood,
I am deacon of the catastrophic night in.
Flickering lights and musty growth on
Old plates,
Dried beer stained into the table
The season grows cold and weird memories
Rise to the top of the symphonic ceiling,
Staining that too.
If I dont **** soon I fear I might write an opus
Jan 2013 · 420
xutthrote
matt nobrains Jan 2013
Long, bent around clasping
Black and lace
a life stretched out before
Twin history two people in one
Divinity and rebirth
In my faults
Both shared with others
Mouths and *****
A roiling river of filth
Both have pure memories tarnished
To incomprehensibility
By mistakes.
If i could pour my heart into making
A time machine
To correct this.
Jun 2012 · 1.0k
slit your thought
matt nobrains Jun 2012
i haven't written anything in months
my blood is dried up and my eyes are rotting
my muse is gone
i bleed beer
i never sleep
the dreams of wicked faces haunt me
terror is most real in broad daylight
as the bodies lie in the streets
as the ichor fills the gutter
as the pungent stench of ten thousand
miserable lives
*****
in the distance
matt nobrains Apr 2012
gentrified entanglement
a week dismembered,
full of craven gullibility
bags of flesh mouthing
silent words
in the hollow earth
stained red with leaking passion.
as an oil spill tucked neatly
away in the purest parts of the sea,
swelling and gathering speed
to blacken the earth.
angels dance with a cadence of
indeterminate in origin,
lacking in self preservation
a hundred thousand pretty words
wrought of iron,
worn down by the ebb of time,
which drives all
towards infinity.
there are things in this world
which we choose to believe
because the alternative
is all to terrible to abide.
Apr 2012 · 709
canned hair
matt nobrains Apr 2012
also known as a lesson in anatomy 2:
this is my heart,
it is both a metaphorical
representation of an oversimplified
concept of a highly intricate
detail
and
a thick ball of senew
which throbs to pump
blood through my veins
distributing oxygen and nutrients
to the backwater parts of
the clusterfuck known as my body.
sometimes I like to take it out and
look at it,
turn it around in my hand for a bit
before pitting it back.
sometimes I can't remember how the
arteries fit
so I just jam them in there
and its a real mess.
the thing is molding a little on
one side and kind of wrinkly.
think of an orange that's been hiding under a cabinet for too long.
they say when I person burns to death
the last part of them to turn to ash
is the heart, since its
so tough, the thing takes forever,
just sitting there in the fire.
I don't think that's true.
I think its the first thing to burn.
matt nobrains Apr 2012
sauntry and sultry,
a fraudulent check written
in a moment of disclarity.
if you've got a bridge to sell
I'm buying.
I've got stakes on this land,
broken with till,
seeded with pain,
nourished with blood,
razed, salted, travesty, and sown again.
a faulty playpen snaps shut on a toddler,
a man trips over his Pekingese
and puts his hand in his brand new
20% off buy two get one blendtec
brand blender,
showering his mother in law
with shards of wrist bone
and strips of lacerated flesh.
this is my foot.
these are my fingers, broken,
distal, intermediate, and proximal
phalanges.
these are the carpal and metacarpals.
I am a Spartan of a shitshack.
I was trained in the wicked art of
long arduous bowel movements.
squeeze one out for the ones you love.
in some small musty room
in new York city
there is a cocknballs paying $200
to get ****** on
by a wombwalker
and thinking about his ******
Pekingese.
you know its true.
don't try to think too hard about it
or you might lose an eye.
Apr 2012 · 907
shelter
matt nobrains Apr 2012
time does not flow
forward for me now,
its movement is crooked,
like a confused river flowing north.
I don't ask questions anymore.
I don't steer this ship towards my
own destiny.
I keep my head down and listen.
and continue working
smiling in pain.
yes yes this is good.
this is great.
I don't have the nerve to ask for more.
what you do is more than
I could ask for.
yes yes
see you later.
nightmares rend my sleeping mind
I awaken soaking through sheets
the room is freezing.
I blink and hope the waking
amnesia doesn't disappate before I can crash again
Mar 2012 · 873
Untitled
matt nobrains Mar 2012
its great
I work 6 days 35 hours a week
and earn minimum wage
tips I get from taking people
soggy sandwiches
go directly into cigarettes and gas.
Im on food stamps
I donate plasma
just to make ends meet
and I still can't afford to
get the water turned on.
the only time I eat is
when I get half priced garbage
from work
or buy stale loaves of forgotten
bread for 50ยข
I have health insurance
but I don't pay for it.
I don't pay my phone bill either
no internet,
no computer,
no heat.
I have electricity.
the rich drain us of resources.
they need US, we don't need THEM.
they say 'I'm here because.I worked.hard,'
imply I don't work hard.
implying nurses in hospitals don't work
hard scrubbing **** out of old peoples
diapers,
implying immigrant construction workers
don't break their backs working for half
of what I get
making a.descent living for their family.
the rich are a product of privilege
sure you might work hard,
but what did your parents do?
let me guess.
they were business owners
or lawyers
you went to private school
had braces
played football
went to the doctor whn you.were.sick
taught things
were sent to college
yes.
hours so much better than me
because you work hard.
while I'm doing your *****
and starving because of you.
Mar 2012 · 1.6k
self absorbed mindmelt
matt nobrains Mar 2012
I still feel you
in my heart.
what wrath visited on me,
perhaps I see in your eyes sorrow
the green sea swells with life
the lone seagull cuts
the air,
scanning the waves
which belch and break
on the gray shore.
a fisherman thinks
drowned by the white noise
his rod cast aimlessly
he considers tossing off his
anchor and crashing headlong
into the rocks,
****** underneath
legs shattered as hes dragged
along the bottom,
his thick blood like oil
curls in clouds around him
his lungs burn
he screams and isn't heard
hurt but not forgotten
he drags his sloop ashore,
snaps his rod in half and casts it into
the foam.
fishing makes for terrible metaphors,
he thinks.
the seagull screams in reply.
Mar 2012 · 546
Untitled
matt nobrains Mar 2012
I roll out of bed
and grab an empty beer can,

curling my fingers with
clumsy half conscious grace
I pull out my **** and
place the head into the
mouthhole and ****.
its

a long one,
rivulets of ***** dribble over the sides
and stain my crusted socks.
I take it outside and throw it away.
I go inside and sulk for a bit,
cracking my knuckles and drawing
shapes in the walls,
the light reflects into my pupils
And I hate it.
I have to **** but there's no water
the toilets are clogged, filled
to

the brim with
hymn excriment

you're upstairs living without me.
who knows, maybe you're having a better
day
or maybe its exactly the same.
somewhere someone is eating caviar
smiling laughing in love.getting laid
enjoying music
******* in a toilet
laying on a couch watching t.v.
instead we're here
Mar 2012 · 655
visage of death
matt nobrains Mar 2012
ding
light shreds you,
rending you apart
burning you to ashes
until just your dingy, second-hand
soul is left.
that soul is your candor,
it is what people spit on,
it is the thing they want to ****
it is thing you try to ****
filled with grief each time
you are stuck deciding whether
to dust it off, smile and say
"there's a good chap,
lets put another mark on the wall
and have a drink."
or crush it under foot and
forget you ever had it.
it is your love
your solace
you desire
the dreams you have of love
your soul is that scream as you
awaken from a happy dream
cut down by reality.
Mar 2012 · 449
drop
matt nobrains Mar 2012
The sting,
Its always there.hope
Will fail you.
Nothing is as good as you
Imagine it to be

They will leave you.broken
and grasping at thin air,
As you draw
A tortured breath in a murky
Puddle in a gutter
Time heals no wounds.

Its funny how those who you hurt
And who hurt you
Always.seem to bounce back
So much quicker than you do.
Feb 2012 · 760
Untitled
matt nobrains Feb 2012
life is peace like death.
emboldened by spurs we
charge
ever more gloriously
towards destruction.
catch me in
my descent into savagery.
an aching hunger
gnaws
in each of us
mistrusted by evolution.
proven friend to humans;
the accident of nature.
life is peace like death.
Feb 2012 · 948
Untitled
matt nobrains Feb 2012
life is peace like death.
emboldened by spurs we
charge
ever more gloriously
towards destruction.
catch me in
my descent into savagery.
an aching hunger
gnaws
in each of us
mistrusted by evolution.
proven friend to humans;
the accident of nature.
life is peace like death.
matt nobrains Feb 2012
sick and ruinous are the acts of your past.
you will always lose.
you will always be trampled underfoot.
the moment you think everything is grand
is when it will collapse
and you will be crushed to death under the weight.
always be paranoid,
never speak in anger.
every moment you are writing your own ****** up future.
Dec 2011 · 538
nietzsche for a reason
matt nobrains Dec 2011
Everybody is elbows and knees,
On a planet of beauty and warmth
A race of ugly grows which has none of these.
Elbows & knees, bent back and forming
At the shoulders and hips,
splayed out and thrashing violently.
you can't open doors for these dickers
You can't walk around them,
They can't see because instead of eyes
They have hideous orbs of filth that only
See hate and
X ray straight through your wife's clothes
They have no noses. Those have been cut off at the bridge.
They have mouths. Plenty of that. Their tongues are two sizes too big
And no cheeks
So when they chew their food you can
see it a mile away
And hear it for ten
Disgusting muchings and crunchings
drooling and bleeding because
They've been doing nothing but mashing their
Tongues with their huge pure white, flat teeth
huge throats which scream instead of speak
So loud you can't hear yourself think
Fuckfyckfuxkdhdjcdjxjdhdhdiswjdvdhdo
I hate people
Aug 2011 · 636
rapt
matt nobrains Aug 2011
you took parts of me
and parts of the world,
and sewed them into a shawl with
a needle and thread of music.
i breathed garbage as you took the mist thin
amalgam of bliss and wrapped
it around your,
shoulders
held tight
soft folds spilling down
forming around your sloping curves
gently, with your practiced
grace and poise,
white legs tangled in the fabric, pulled high
to reveal all and nothing,
draped over knees,
cascading from porcelain arms.
a drop of dew gathers at the blade of grass
and
drips.
kept pure and clean,
not a bare stitch.
tucked into a
box and under your bed
never to be worn
again.
matt nobrains Aug 2011
Believe it or not
I actually feel worse now
Than I did before I got taken to
The b ward.
I came out feeling like
A new man, full of hope and love
Now I'm more depressed than I ever
Have been.
That edge seems do much closer
Now that I know where
it
Is.
Emotional and physical
pain are the same.
I hate it and I don't
know what to do
I don't want to do anything
I don't want to be.
I think it has
Something to do
with the medicine
They prescribed me,
But
It doesn't matter.
Nothing does.
Aug 2011 · 784
what's my score?
matt nobrains Aug 2011
The universe
Plays a sick game with
Its occupants.
Dumping salubrious suffering
In droves
And igniting climactic pleasures
In the same breath.
Through death we are
Reborn
In life how we
Decay.
The interweaved oblivion
Of our united souls
dwells fierce.
with a touch we are destroyed.
In losing friends one makes
Them too.
Even if its just yourself.
your horrible worthless
Digested detestable selves
Always there for me.
Livid diatribes.
Loveins and loveless.
That sinking feeling
when you're born.
What a life its been.
there are those in your
World
That would do great things for you.
People are the blood in
the universe
It doesn't torture us
It bleeds its crazed idiot blood
When we bleed.
it merely takes solace in the fact that
Fear and courage are not so different.
It relies on the fact that
You
Exist.
Peace, my brothers,
I live a life of losing friends
I do this with tenacity.
Whats my score?
Aug 2011 · 644
the
matt nobrains Aug 2011
the
The age old question,
Climbing back up from
Rock bottom,
Fingertips straining against clean hewn
Limestone
Piece by piece
Taping yourself back together.
"What happens now?"
matt nobrains Aug 2011
effervescent chaos; sizzling
in the blackest reaches of the untapped
psyche. dreamscapes woven from
the fabric of ten quadrillion crystalline spiders
working in perfect harmony
to construct a thin coating of sound
upon all of creation.
you run your hand along a stone monolith
that looms into the sky, reaching
on and on longer
and higher than the eye can
perceive; off to stroke
the face of god.
a fine strand of hair on a blastula of
atomic pulp.
the hills around you, bathed in silvery
strands not unlike silk wisps wafting
the smell of baby powder into the
air, stretch off for miles,
slowly undulating away to meet an unseen
ocean of oily water.
the sound of a knife being dragged
across the strings of
a piano emanates from the monolith.
you gaze up into the reflective,
glistening clouds.
you are alone in this.
Aug 2011 · 775
i save bugs
matt nobrains Aug 2011
i save bugs, when i see them in danger.
i return spiders to their webs,
i scoop up drowning pillbugs
i take ladybugs to flowers that look
particularly infested with aphids.
it gives you a good a feeling to
act as a benevolent god
on those who have no choice
but to succumb to your immense power.
unlike the real god,
which may or may not exist
(i bank on no)
who,
no matter how you slice it,
is pretty much just an *******.
Next page