Arms wrapped around each other in the cool green grass
A slow gallop picks up speed
A parade of sunlight combusting yellow sparks
Across the plain run the yellow mares
Procession of flashes light up our faces
My girlfriend smiles and wets her lips in the sun
I on my way to becoming prince of golden dreams
Drown my face in the sunshine of her being
She gets up and lets fall a thousand golden flakes
Shake off slowly all that kissing
In the tender brightness of our storm
I get up as well and reach towards her
My arm brushes her neck causing fire sparks
In the friction of love
She rolls into me and we slow gaze at each other for a while
In our golden embrace
We notice our possible future
Ahead of us
A stream of sunlight

The wild gallop of golden desire
A chance to mount the yellow mares

I could appreciate her today. I had been watching those golden gestures compliment the frame of elegant houses. And for moments alone on a reflective sidewalk, I had forgotten what my face looked like. Yes, she was a whistler of pastel importance. A type of language only significant when the island pores of sensitive humans bleed open shamelessly and without counsel for their tears. The afternoons have a style all to their own, and I remember glass.

Fireflies carry
Earrings toward evening’s rest
The teardrop smiling

Tiny explosions along a diamond anklet
That wraps a tender, tan leg like water
Princess of beach religion
Slow motion dazzling beauty
Tossing sand-confetti
Her girlfriends run towards the sprinkling cascade
With satin action
Acting like satin
Tribe of water-brides
Oceanic fan club of sparkling lust
Discreet danger possible only in slow jewel worship
Prince of glamorous indifference
Reclines in the branches of a shiny glass tree

O pure Sagittarius in light-blue dressed
Your outfit hugs kindly those delicate *******:
water-flowers the moon sprinkled down on your chest
On a sky-pillow your neck how gently it rests

Cloud of porcelain-white asleep in your perfume
The life you breathe into it a slumberous tune
Disrupts a cluster of stars happily may they resume
a ring of memories alive and with us soon

Orange afternoon
She is dancing through the leaves
The autumn dances

Scent of roses around her neck
Encircling her white as moon flesh
Create a necklace invisible
Envy of the stale air around her

Curled up on the bed
Sliding like soft cats
We blend like smoke
And tender spark clash

© Matthew Goff

They just came off the carousel
And now they will roam and
Wander with blissful stares

I will soon join them, hoping
To find wild women and
Coconut lotions

We will be free, we’ll dance
And swim

They just came out of the water
And now they will journey
Into the night’s mystery

I will soon join them, excited
To discover new voices in
New places

We will be free, we’ll talk
To one another and share our
Lust for experience

They just came out of the
Woods and now they will
Sleep with their lovers, awaiting
The blink of dawn

A sky invades itself the way lampshades collapse on their elegant red bulbs.
Lovely antique fabrics wrap themselves around heat-waves copulating with light.
The color of blood melts down a rose petal in celestial gardens.
A certain shade of burgundy supports a flower dive!
Liquid falls into the curtain folds of this cranberry swaying pageantry.

Once ago a time perfect and not only mine but
ours! A love designing sublime rebellion shined!
Days when our kisses held the potential for
avalanches do you recall a faint trembling sign?

The years away from us but that integrity still
inside! A search for those who breathe romantic enterprise!
Nights when smiles meet in agreement toward
best planning the adventure in each other’s eyes!

© Matthew Goff

Prostitutes walk the street
And clash with white birds in tropical flight
Does this lend a purity to their gutter blood?
Or are they saints in corrupt and glamorous disguises?
The wind must speak their true names
Velvet panthers in the moist heat
Heavy curtain of ***
Falls upon the town in a warm wave
Surfers slowly lay their heads back
And are baptized by their girlfriends in the ocean

Paul and Sara and their sparkling defiance
They are unharmed by society’s avalanche
A dazzling and rebellious love
Parental attacks meet soft victories
©

While on a beach, when she kissed me with the urgency of a sensitive poison, I could not help but scatter across the shore-lengths, the households of my heart, allowing room only for the remedy, I looked beyond her and forgot to make room for her smile, that went unnoticed fading as a shadow on my face.

© Matthew Goff

I know of pink corners in the mind: Forest of sweet perfumes, whose travelers lend a hand to the ******* of sunset and its nervous mapping of amateur stars. There is a moment’s history in the certainty of salivating worlds: An odyssey for lovers who play cards at night and whose ideas for strategic foreplay are used like stilts. Hovering over a table, soaked with invisible juices, they are found flirting with each other’s secret personalities—heirs to the hormonal vibration of wet thoughts.

A hunger for each other in the sweet winds
often blows a feather-blade against the skin
While glances shine off our bodies like
soft whips in the heart of sin

I love your licentious mouth
in waves of honesty spilling diamonds
An open language without shame
While embarrassing truths bleed out the games:

False arena in which we prey
upon another’s confusion, confusing the sane and
insane jewel of our wonder?

"The Poetry of Matthew Goff"

She walks by wearing blue stockings in the rainy afternoon
Her youth is like a tender dream
She wears a pair of adolescent stars from her ears
All her boyfriends, when they speak, sound like cool rivers
In the sky-blue of the day
She smiles
The way lilac bushes crush petals into joy

Now three o’clock in the precious afternoon of torn cotton strands
School lets out a riot of sapphire glitter
Some girl stripes her vanilla ice cream cone with azure breathing
On seeing this she faints like a toss of sprinkles

She’s woken by blue candy kisses
Like a cluster of stars falling
From a boy
Upon her face
The constellation of a crush

As she gets up
A thousand blue ponies slide from her rain-water hair
Before disappearing in the distance
Young children mount them tackling flowers

She kisses him
And lets slide the sky-blue of the day from her lips
His arms fall like water around her body
As she turns, racing to make friends with
The twinkling blue of a butterfly’s eye

© Matthew Goff

Against white flowers fragile memories clashed
And split the pollen structures with glass exploding past
Thin columns of crystal in this flower architecture smashed
Into lullaby shards with edges quickened the past
Against whose bedroom in this green-garden-flash, my eyes
A whirlwind of tears have lashed!

They just came off the carousel
And now they will roam and
Wander with blissful stares

I will soon join them, hoping
To find wild women and
Coconut lotions

We will be free, we’ll dance
And swim

They just came out of the water
And now they will journey
Into the night’s mystery

I will soon join them, excited
To discover new voices in
New places

We will be free, we’ll talk
To one another and share our
Lust for experience

They just came out of the
Woods and now they will
Sleep with their lovers, awaiting
The blink of dawn

My golden girlfriend
A lioness in the sunlight
She brings me
While melting kisses still shine on my lips
Elegant waterfall hair
Blonde as a daydream dreaming yellow mares
Liking her a sunflower crown becomes new religion
She introduced the sun to me
In the flamboyant light of her style and being
Myself, already a worshipper
As I’m sure she’s princess of the wild tribes
Now they’re passions for the sunlight shades
Slow spinning with blonde desire towards the
casual dance of new attraction

*** lights up an empty mind but
Unlike mine enslaves equal time

Naked actress are you from my tribe?
Company of lovers cast aside for
Spilling sensual rhythms in their strides

The ****** heart plays a part divine
Although confusion sleeps in the sublime
****** spent too many different times

Leopard ladies will soon often prance upon men whose hearts are held together by single straws, by which a fragile connection has been made. Their skintight vestments hug them more tightly than any lover would ever dare attempt. Such intimate efforts are not beyond them but have been made afraid of by wicked arm’s length faces, dotted by the scorn of wild races soon to be held in trance-ridden spaces.

Let beauty influence the architecture of thought

She walks by wearing blue stockings in the rainy afternoon
Her youth is like a tender dream
She wears a pair of adolescent stars from her ears
All her boyfriends, when they speak, sound like cool rivers
In the sky-blue of the day
She smiles
The way lilac bushes crush petals into joy

Now three o’clock in the precious afternoon of torn cotton strands
School lets out a riot of sapphire glitter
Some girl stripes her vanilla ice cream cone with azure breathing
On seeing this she faints like a toss of sprinkles

She’s woken by blue candy kisses
Like a cluster of stars falling
From a boy
Upon her face
The constellation of a crush

As she gets up
A thousand blue ponies slide from her rain-water hair
Before disappearing in the distance
Young children mount them tackling flowers

She kisses him
And lets slide the sky-blue of the day from her lips
His arms fall like water around her body
As she turns, racing to make friends with
The twinkling blue of a butterfly’s eye

© Matthew Goff

French bath! Twenty two year old mind cologne ****! My friend speaks of concubines in yellow autumn slavery like my soul wants to copulate against female hosiery. A woman had her period, what’s it doing in my pocket? Warm October moons circulate preliminary madness with a catwalk kind of patience. Terrestrial sisterhood and their cemetery leaf appendages stroke our hearts with a sweep like bone-silk companions speak dark history.

© Matthew Goff

All of this dreaming came first with a silent knock upon the glass. At least one of the girls had pretended to. Three redheads pressed each other’s bodies up in the corner, huddling as if they were some team about to spring their paws across some morality clause.

Lazy turquoise trembling
Just a saying
“You’re just lazy turquoise trembling”
Not sure what it means
But the night rains green
And fear is brushed aside
You’re just lazy turquoise trembling
©

We can manage a dull afternoon
When punished lilies
Imitate the army of rebel waters
Sneaking away on tiptoe
From an empire of lawful soil

Watchful of flood signals
We will wait for a jealous wasp
To peel back the detonators
For springboard demolitions
Fancied on limp petals

While soldiers of nectar’s plight
Talk over plans with bees
We see an enemy of discreet magnitude
Inside us, a showering of infernal degrees
Our hearts soaked in criminal teas

A hunger for each other in the sweet winds
often blows a feather-blade against the skin
While glances shine off our bodies like
soft whips in the heart of sin

I love your licentious mouth
in waves of honesty spilling diamonds
An open language without shame
While embarrassing truths bleed out the games:

False arena in which we prey
upon another’s confusion, confusing the sane and
insane jewel of our wonder?

She wears a necklace of *** dynamite
And love detonates the day
Conversations ignite
And honesty is spilled like water

They just came off the carousel
And now they will roam and
Wander with blissful stares

I will soon join them, hoping
To find wild women and
Coconut lotions

We will be free, we’ll dance
And swim

They just came out of the water
And now they will journey
Into the night’s mystery

I will soon join them, excited
To discover new voices in
New places

We will be free, we’ll talk
To one another and share our
Lust for experience

They just came out of the
Woods and now they will
Sleep with their lovers, awaiting
The blink of dawn

The place where one spends afternoons counseling a beguiled village on the depravity of their daydreams, a slow porcelain horse is trapped in its own celebratory air on the moment of its leap, over a fountain whose waters drench the rider’s proud eyes, and view of the whole spectacle.

The place where one spends afternoons counseling a beguiled village on the depravity of their daydreams, a slow porcelain horse is trapped in its own celebratory air on the moment of its leap, over a fountain whose waters drench the rider’s proud eyes, and view of the whole spectacle.

To pursue an unnatural passion
more sacred to me than any other life lived
Is an adventure
Hung over the palace of desire like a dancer
Head thrown back
Like the slow flash of a jewel
Her limber body bent
Her waist hugged by voluptuous shadows
She almost dangles
Like *** the play of kittens clawing invisible velvet lovers
With one arm raised
Held within a hand of indifference to everything else
That which she imagines for herself and her beloved

Those who preside in heaven
Must have sculpted my heart in supreme elegance
So I could speak for the ****** tribes

Those who follow the wet visions
Follow my vision for us all

A dream of loving clothed in wet garments

The Scorpio seal will soften
The conscience of Virgo victorious

Consensual hearts of Eros!
Lift the gentle *** out of the dark
While into the night, ****** light
Still dripping leaves angelic marks

© Matthew Goff

She walks by wearing blue stockings in the rainy afternoon
Her youth is like a tender dream
She wears a pair of adolescent stars from her ears
All her boyfriends, when they speak, sound like cool rivers
In the sky-blue of the day
She smiles
The way lilac bushes crush petals into joy

The Broken Angel of Slow *** Flight and Her Impossible Audience

The broken angel of slow *** flight
Walked up to the store with rock and roll in her heels
In front of drunk men
She belted out a few lines of a seventies classic
Her singing wild and ***** as her body
A crazy street person they would say
As she caringly petted the store owner’s dog
Looks of mild contempt were her thanks
And yet her love flowed
Some foreign heart untouched by ordinary ignorance
She stayed awhile and tried to make friends
Mostly ignored, except for the occasional glance one has towards a circus show
Performing and yet not performing
She lifted up her shirt for some reason to reveal her stomach
She had the free sexuality of a playful stripper
And then she spun out again in another direction
After awhile she left
With a genuine smile for everybody

The reason for her visit was unclear
But she was tagged a ***
And there was some relief that she was gone
How can a person’s apparent vocation cloud the stars they explode for you?
A slow firework blew by the store and is seen like the dirt under our shoes
Whereas we wear our boredom like a crown
And hold others to the same so-called normal criteria  
We call her a ***
But envy the rebel ruby of her freedom

© Matthew Goff

Evening princess,
I think of you while swinging from clouds
And holding your favorite flowers
Evening princess,
Your ruby realizations
Tell a story of reckless love
Evening princess,
Take your pretty bow to the stars
Evening princess,
You smash the glass of convention

© Matthew Goff

Fierce whips of love light
Dance in front of my eyes
Opera of our souls
Slow majesty curtain of the ******
Can never bleed and stain our pure hearts

We approach people admiring sunsets
Ignorant of their beings
We love them like statues moving
Slow, physical, vivid bodies

What am I?
But a wounded storm
Slow, cold winds of apathy
Yet, I boast in having the heart of an eagle
Running through America’s screaming woods of our time

A heated swell of perfume
Dripping from his lover’s cheek
Welcomes many more feelings to surrender
Than the windshield reveals now

Driving upon waterfall roads
Couples are seen as fashionable animals
While the starlet sisters giggle
Behind trees where winds sneak around
Carefully.

While the passengers slide upon each other’s laps, a ruffling of clothes is heard in a car nearby. The naivete of subtle experience may someday welcome someone to slip along the sweaty steps of pleasure-stained pools: The ****** Congregation, where the logistics of the court presume “Not Guilty” indefinitely. For temptation is more than desire in Vain, but human curiosity. We can only predict our immediate future and what certain components are to be gained up until a certain point. But new found treasures lie awaiting our innocent stumble, many instances where a courtship often leads to a garden of rose-colored garter belts. Which serve in replacement for telephone wire strung above homes whose tenants excitedly plan for the next affair.

Amusement park love crash
Blowing kisses through roller coaster rides
The wind blows their hair around and satin crushes
Holding hands sparks afternoon warmth
The evening descends and sheds stars around them
©

To pursue an unnatural passion
more sacred to me than any other life lived
Is an adventure
Hung over the palace of desire like a dancer
Head thrown back
Like the slow flash of a jewel
Her limber body bent
Her waist hugged by voluptuous shadows
She almost dangles
Like *** the play of kittens clawing invisible velvet lovers
With one arm raised
Held within a hand of indifference to everything else
That which she imagines for herself and her beloved

To pursue an unnatural passion
more sacred to me than any other life lived
Is an adventure
Hung over the palace of desire like a dancer
Head thrown back
Like the slow flash of a jewel
Her limber body bent
Her waist hugged by voluptuous shadows
She almost dangles
Like *** the play of kittens clawing invisible velvet lovers
With one arm raised
Held within a hand of indifference to everything else
That which she imagines for herself and her beloved

My golden girlfriend
A lioness in the sunlight
She brings me
While melting kisses still shine on my lips
Elegant waterfall hair
Blonde as a daydream dreaming yellow mares
Liking her a sunflower crown becomes new religion
She introduced the sun to me
In the flamboyant light of her style and being
Myself, already a worshipper
As I’m sure she’s princess of the wild tribes
Now they’re passions for the sunlight shades
Slow spinning with blonde desire towards the
casual dance of new attraction
Sagittarius and Leo running together ignite
the day with spontaneous heat
Spark of tender amber in the eyes
Turns to burning embraces

We sink into smiling depths, that coil dreams around a fireplace of wooden friendships. Fragments of silent histories conspire, bridging a new entrance into the bladed halls of honest trappings. How wonderful a step! There is no solitude in whispering lawful communion and citizenship can always be stolen from the sleep of crystal dogs and their invisible masters.

Nocturne in Butterflies

I am part of a secret race of bedfellows who, while draped in the rose linen of sleep, lash out at the dawn, a suffering enterprise, with a multitude of blinks, signaling revenge to the moon, my ally, which in the sized light of the sun, we can no longer see, yet, waiting until it sneaks up on the horizon, like an uninvited guest, our dreams will conspire in unison, like an army of winged blades, decapitating it in its own shine, leaving its bleeding fluid to sweat upon a flower, we will let it put butterflies to sleep!

© Matthew Goff

I could appreciate her today. I had been watching those golden gestures compliment the frame of elegant houses. And for moments alone on a reflective sidewalk, I had forgotten what my face looked like. Yes, she was a whistler of pastel importance. A type of language only significant when the island pores of sensitive humans bleed open shamelessly and without counsel for their tears. The afternoons have a style all to their own, and I remember glass.

Inside the day, convulsions sweep me within the circular tide, whose currents endlessly root themselves along the shores of disappointing sentiments. Abandoning a singular precision, in using reverie with a blade to carve out the jewels with splendid contour, fashioned after the exquisite role of the past, I have failed to attract the elegant throats around which I stalk the beautiful endlessly.

© Matthew Goff

Always a love ritual
Take yourself back to soft night-air perfumed necks. Once again, allow your thoughts to sculpt a hand of past flesh and stroke the palm of her history with you. O gentle jack-of-hearts backrub lover, you must dance the steps your true soul choreographs for you.

Let’s put an end to future ills with patience for this all too familiar unique smile of affairs. Where are you true love of mine a second time?

With gentle paws upon your heart landscape. The day must allow your conscience to paint like a fox. To love like brunette blades of hair reveal emotion. O precious style of moonlight lights up a secret drama.

To pursue an unnatural passion
more sacred to me than any other life lived
Is an adventure
Hung over the palace of desire like a dancer
Head thrown back
Like the slow flash of a jewel
Her limber body bent
Her waist hugged by voluptuous shadows
She almost dangles
Like *** the play of kittens clawing invisible velvet lovers
With one arm raised
Held within a hand of indifference to everything else
That which she imagines for herself and her beloved