eight's a mis.
seven's a felon.
i was six feet away
from the gates of heaven.

© Matthew Harlovic

and his eyes are stained with glass
shattered hopes, built to last
and his lungs are made from brass

yet remains silent during mass.
his body's a church and it's vast
and his eyes are stained with glass

watching a young, lad and lass
whom he searched for have a blast
and their lungs are made from brass

as they roll about the grass.
they fell in love quite so fast
and his eyes are stained with glass

because the two should be in class
but all of that has come to past
and their lungs are made from brass

she laughed a lot and he had a gas
he calls to God, not to pray but ask
why his eyes are stained with glass
and his lungs are made from brass?

© Matthew Harlovic

you can waver with the leaves
of absence from your giving tree
but you'll outlive the doubts
you once had for me.

© Matthew Harlovic

life is a lot like a boxcar,
you never know where you're gonna get.

© Matthew Harlovic

i'm only human, so
my roots are mandrake.

© Matthew Harlovic

i thought the sun rose
and fell on your horizon,
i followed you like a shadow
but i wish i opened my eyelids
a bit wider so i could have seen
how much time i wasted
waiting for the ends to justify the means.
i loved you with every fibre of my being,
you kissed me like a guillotine
and i felt my breath fleeing.
i tasted truth on your sugar-coated tongue
and yet i should’ve noted how you eat your young.
you beat my gums with cheap talk
and sleepwalk about a bed of nails.
you raised questions so i read the braille
and i was amazed by the minor details you failed
to acknowledge let alone unveil.
yet you’ve shown a new face,
i’ve grown ail of your grace
and how you can encase
your faith by nailing it in place
but with love like a wraith,
you've always found a way
to circumvent the rays
and shine on my darkest days.

© Matthew Harlovic

bada bing
bada whom?

© Matthew Harlovic

literature offers an
immersive collection
of the past and an emerging
collective of experience.

© Matthew Harlovic

if life gives you limes,
squeeze the light
out of it

© Matthew Harlovic

i didn't think things
would get this worse

to where discourse
turns to discord.

we thought with force,
we fought with sources

when we were taught
to endorse reinforcement.

© Matthew Harlovic

You make me happy,
You make me sad.
But all in all,
you're still my Dad.

© Matthew Harlovic

I tried to cultivate a garden
When my world was burning.
The metaphor is simple:
I was working with no purpose.

© Matthew Harlovic