Matt Wojo: Favorites

Feb 2011 Matt Wojo

Neva Flores Varga Smith

Shall I tell a lie that seeps into the waters of your soul
To enhance the day you see inside your mind
If only for a brief moment should I make you feel
Like the prize inside a *******-jack box
Everyone wants to find

Should I say you are the eighth wonder of the world
You should sit in council on golden floors
Right beside the gods drinking nectar from above
Or would you rather me color in truth
Outside lines you adore

If the honest color of truth is what you really seek
Take a look through these eyes of mine
You can see the brightest star, shining in my sky
Even through the clouds and haze
Ever so brightly defined

You will see the truth and have no need of lies
My star is never dim in less light
You will know I love you in your imperfection
That you are the brightest star
In my heart’s skies

Copyright *Neva Flores @2011
www.changefulstormpoetry.blogspot.com
www.stumbleupon.com/stumbler/Changefulstorm

Feb 2011 Matt Wojo

I Don't Remember...

Feb 2011 Matt Wojo

Ashe L Bennett

I Don't Remember...

I don't remember, any more,
The exact shape of your hands
As I held them in mine,
Caressed them,
Memorized the length of your fingers,
The depth of your calluses.

I don't remember, any more,
Exactly your height, how much
Taller than me
You were, where
My head rested on your chest
When you held me tightly close.

I don't remember, any more,
Your scent, when we lay together
Creating our own
Magic rhythm,
Matching our heartbeats as we
Touched the sky, together.

I don't remember, any more,
The sound of your voice, calling
My name as though
It were a song
Within itself, a precious treasure
You valued with all your being.

And I don't remember, any more,
The color of your eyes, the shape
Of your lips,
Only...
How your eyes crinkled at the corners
And your laugh, as you told me,

"I love you."

Copyright by Ash L. Bennett, 2011

Jan 2011 Matt Wojo

Mad Girl's Love Song

Jan 2011 Matt Wojo

Sylvia Plath

Mad Girl's Love Song

"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)"

Jan 2011 Matt Wojo

It sifts from Leaden Sieves

Jan 2011 Matt Wojo

Emily Dickinson

It sifts from Leaden Sieves

311

It sifts from Leaden Sieves—
It powders all the Wood.
It fills with Alabaster Wool
The Wrinkles of the Road—

It makes an Even Face
Of Mountain, and of Plain—
Unbroken Forehead from the East
Unto the East again—

It reaches to the Fence—
It wraps it Rail by Rail
Till it is lost in Fleeces—
It deals Celestial Vail

To Stump, and Stack—and Stem—
A Summer’s empty Room—
Acres of Joints, where Harvests were,
Recordless, but for them—

It Ruffles Wrists of Posts
As Ankles of a Queen—
Then stills its Artisans—like Ghosts—
Denying they have been—

Jan 2011 Matt Wojo

Christmas Bed

Jan 2011 Matt Wojo

Fegger

Christmas Bed

Curled beneath the Christmas tree,
On this snowy Christmas Eve,
Lay my daughter, nearly three
Upon this perfect bed.
Asleep and warm in footed wear,
Tinsel static-ed to strands of hair,
Glistening lights ‘gainst skin so fair,
Halo her youthful head.

There she dreams of dreams her own,
That circle ‘bout her life, her home;
Doesn’t fear the world unknown;
I pray such times remain.
With eyelids’ flutter, weaves tomorrows,
To fill with splendor, not of sorrow,
From her, such vision I will borrow;
And will live my life again.

Nestled lone, in face of fire,
Breathing deep, this sweet admire,
With new eyes see all my desires,
How life has blessed so far.
Then, with scent of piney resin,
Awakens precious Christmas present,
Blue-eyes sparkle, sleepy crescents,
The babe beneath the star.

— The End —