Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 May 2014 Matthew
r
Throwback
 May 2014 Matthew
r
If I could sing
You'd throw me back
Say I'm not a keeper
Cuz I can't sing
Your song anyhow.

But if I could
I'd be singing
Something sweeter
To make you cling
To me...all day long.

If I could sing
You'd throw me away
Call me a dreamer
And there's not a thing
I could say to say you're wrong.

When I sing
Toss me into your river
Cuz I'm a dreaming swimmer
I could swim in your water
All night long.

r ~ 5/4/14
\•/\
   |   I can't sing a lick, but I dream big  
  / \
 Apr 2014 Matthew
Tom Leveille
let it not be confused
let no one else's name
ring throughout these sentences
let this be a hatchet
let me put this to rest
this is not a test
i don't want to think
about shipwrecks anymore
i am tired of folding apologies
into origami birds
and placing them
at the headstones to your tantrums
this is not is not geology class
these are promises
written on razorblades
      & if you are getting choked up
        then maybe you should be

maybe we should be buried
with our telescopes face down
my mouth is full of sorry
all for being honest
we are falling out of orbit
we are burning bystanders
so cast away your callous condolences
because no one is clapping
in this waist deep water
this is not a baptism
so do not tell strangers
that this was a chance to drown
any differently
i am not a catalogue
of constellations you cannot name
this is not mythology
so stop believing your horoscope
i am not a wishing well
i am just a wall for you
to paint post nuclear fallout & antonyms for catharsis on
we destroy the things
that are not ours-
the wanton ways
we embody wrecking *****
and then cry over the rubble
this is not a heap or a mosaic
this is leaping
off a thousand story building
with no one to catch you
at the bottom & maybe
that's why some quiet moments
are so fragile, maybe that's why butterflies have mimicry
your words are black powder
and poetry is your musketry
i guess that makes me your blindfold
 Apr 2014 Matthew
reflectionzero
A poet in love
Is a match soaked
In gasoline.

-r0
follow my writing!

it will kick you in the diaphragm.
I want my hands full with yours  in them
I'll fill your heart up with enough beats to keep your body going
I'll yell to keep everyone knowing
This right here is your shoulda coulda woulda been
If ever, oh ever, you happen to meet
A poor giant ****** while out on the street
Pay him no mind but do not lower guard
For the lives of giant midgets are puzzling and hard
For trapped deep inside the six foot illusion
Hides three feet of anger, made worse by confusion
Struggling to figure out why so much space
Has been given to such a short, height-challenged race
To move among people, just trying to fit in
When on the inside they don't fit their own skin
The rage and the hatred they've let manifest
Into a mad need to put us to the test
To figure out why, when we fit our insides
There are places inside us where emptiness hides
Which we try to fill up with things we don't need
When all that they want is a chance to be freed
But if they could see that in fact we don't fit
Our minds contain people with nowhere to sit
Each with a voice that commands us to do
What it wants instead of what we want to do
Each one so loud as to drown out the rest
Each one insisting what it knows is best
Leaving us mostly distressed and confused
Our poor little brains worn out and abused
If they could just see that although they reside
Inside such a cavernous, double-sized hide
We are really no different than they
We all have our problems that won't go away
But they are alone, no one else in their mind
Festering within the shell they're confined
And we have the voices that tell us to guard
Against giant midgets, who have it so hard
A much earlier write. Shel Silverstein was a heavy influence to this.
 Apr 2014 Matthew
A
Reminder:
It's better to be losing her in books
than losing her to someone else.

a.g
 Apr 2014 Matthew
Danielle Barlow
Do you feel anything at all for me?
Or is this just a plot for me to hurt?
It must just not be meant to be,
but either way I feel like dirt.
Next page